Page 17 of Outlaw
“Awww, how sweet.” I flutter my eyelashes and frown, then roll my eyes.
“You have a heck of a lot of attitude. I can fucking appreciate that.”
“I look like I care what you appreciate, don’t I?” I grin, pressing in close to him to pass through the slightly cracked door. I don’t keep that smile on my face for long, though. My breasts brush against his lower chest, and the sensation has me half-lidded and drenched between my legs, with my nipples already hardening through the thin material of my dress. Before I can move away, his hand shoots around my wrist and yanks me in closer. I suck in a surprised breath at the sudden jerk, his fingers burning into the sensitive flesh of my inner wrist. Neither of us move an inch. We both remain locked in a tension-fueled stalemate. I sense him staring down at me, but I’m am too stubborn to look up at him—and too amped up with raw need, if I’m being honest.
“If you know what’s good for you, don’t play that game. Don’t wake the beast.” He presses in closer, stepping me backward until my ass is pressed up against the door jamb. His muscled thigh lingers between my legs, and his hard cock nudges my belly.
It feels like I already woke it.
This is going way too far, but hell, I have a hard time stopping myself. I’m frantic to slip into the room and away from his dizzying gravitational pull that practically shuts down my mind from rational thought. Clearing my throat, I try to come up with a witty way to make him back off. Some distance between us will subdue the sexual fantasies winding their way through my blurred vision at light speed. I swallow and try again while his encroaching heat only grows hotter against my aroused flesh.
“You’re…so…hot,” I croak as his fingers idly trace the bare line of my collarbone along the halter neckline of my dress. My eyes close at his butterfly soft touch. Jesus. How is it possible for someone so big, tough and badass to be so gentle?
Silas groans, and his arm tightens around my waist, drawing me impossibly close.
“I don’t…understand,” I mumble. I can’t remember the last time a man’s hands had such an effect on me because nothing like this ever happened to my body just from someone’s touch.
He grinds his hips forward, rubbing his cock against my abdomen. I let out an unintended breathy sigh as every part of my body goes on high alert. I’m still clutching the bundle of his clothes to my side with one hand, and my purse with the other. That leaves no barrier between us to keep me sane—other than the vague fragment of a hazy thought that I don’t know this man from a hole in the ground.
“Fuck,” he moans.
Christ, that small, deep sound makes my skin prickle with pent-up pleasure. Without thinking, my right hand falls from my tight hold on his clothes, dropping it altogether when he winds his fingers into my hair and tugs my head backward. The sound of the clothes hitting the floor must bring him back to reality. Silas leaps back into the hallway as if I pulled a knife on him. Cooler air invades my body from the void created by the abrupt loss of his contact. It leaves me numb and unsteady. My eyes widen, lips slightly parted and desperately trying to regain some control. I still can’t feel my legs.
Silas clears his throat nervously, and I sneak a glance at him as he adjusts himself in his pants, looking away. Taking the opportunity, I quickly pick up the spare clothes and slip into the bedroom. It isn’t until I pass the door that I hear what sounds like his quiet apology through the thick walnut wood.
