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BOOK: DevilishlyHot
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“Annie,” he started and Annie knew what he was going to say, and she didn’t want to hear his words. Words of apprehension and uncertainty. She didn’t want to think about whether what they were planning to do was right or wrong. She just wanted to give in to the desire that had been welling up inside her since the first moment she saw him.
She placed her fingertips against his lips, her skin cold against his hot, moist flesh. Almost as if he couldn’t stop himself, he pressed a kiss to where she touched him.
“Don’t say anything,” she whispered, “I want to be with you. I’ve wanted that from the very moment we met. And I’m really hoping you aren’t changing your mind about being with me.”
He stared at her, that concern still in his eyes, but some of it was replaced by the hot glow of desire, a desire that she reflected back to him.
Slowly, he caught her hand, moving her fingers away from his lips and leaned in to capture her mouth. And finally they were kissing again, but tonight there were no barriers between them. No more guilt or reservations. Now she could give herself wholly to this gorgeous man. And she did, opening her mouth to deepen their kiss.
 
As soon as Annie’s lips parted, Nick knew what she was offering. It was exactly what he’d wanted when he’d dragged her out of the bar and back here to his apartment. But the cold air had sobered him up, and had allowed him to think a little straighter. Had made him realize that maybe she did need some time to adjust to the changes in her life.
But now, with her lips clinging to his, his noble thoughts slipped away again, blotted out by his need to hold this woman, feel her beside him, feel himself deep inside her.
She made a noise low in her throat, the sound soft, yet so raw and desperate. Exactly like he felt.
He captured her head between his hands, angling her head, deepening their kiss. Damn, she tasted so perfect, warm and tangy like wine and desire.
Her fingers curled into the front of his coat, tugging his body even closer as if she was freezing to death and only his heat would keep her alive.
His hands left her face to move to her hips, pulling her tightly against him, his arousal rubbing against her.
“Nick,” she gasped against his mouth, his name on her lips filled with longing, rough, insistent longing.
But the sound of his name, said with such raw need, made him come to his senses, just a little. His blood still thrummed through his veins, threatening to again block out any rational thoughts, but he fought to stay in control, telling himself not to just reach for her again, dragging her back against him like some possessive, chest-thumping caveman.
Hell, he was so riled up he could throw her down on the snowy sidewalk and make love to her right here.
Maybe he wasn’t any classier than Bobby after all.
No. Annie needed and deserved more than animalistic sex. She’d had a total shock tonight. He needed to keep his own desire in check and make sure she was okay.
“Annie,” he said, his gaze roaming her face. Her cheeks flushed a pretty pink. Her gray eyes hazed with lust.
He fought to stay focused, to keep his hands motionless on her hips.
“Maybe ...” He shook his head, and an incredulous laugh escaped him. “Maybe we should wait.”
She frowned, clearly not following what he was saying. She swayed toward him, her gaze dropping to his lips. His dropped to hers too. Pretty lips, pink and damp and slightly swollen from his kiss.
He leaned in too, then caught himself.
“No,” he said, mostly to himself, but he could tell from her slight flinch and wounded expression that she thought his unintentionally harsh tone was aimed solely at her.
He immediately moved one of his hands from her hips to stroke her cheek. “Annie, I want you so badly.”
“And I want you.”
He caressed her cheek, his body, and his heart, reacting to the desperation in her voice. Couldn’t she tell how much he wanted her? Yet, he saw uncertainty in her eyes.
“I just don’t think we should start something like this tonight. After what you’ve been through—you’ve got to have time to deal with it.”
She stared at him, her dreamy look totally gone, replaced by confusion. “You’ve been telling me you want me, and I want you too. Yet now that I can be with you, you are having doubts. I don’t understand.”
“I know. I know,” he said, conflicted, “but I don’t want to be rebound boy. Or worse, someone that you have sex with as payback to Bobby.”
She didn’t speak for a moment, then shook her head, her eyes filled with outright hurt. “I would never do that.”
Nick realized that as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Annie wasn’t spiteful, or the type of woman to make rash decisions. She was the type who always tried to do the right thing, even when the right thing wasn’t easy.
Wasn’t that part of what appealed to him? God knows, he didn’t see much of that behavior in his line of work.
“No. You wouldn’t. But what if it’s simply too soon?”
Annie might not realize it, but he did not intend for this to be a one-night fling. He wanted to be with her. He didn’t have any doubts about that, and he didn’t want her to either.
“It isn’t too soon,” she told him. “If anything, it’s been too long. Too long since I’ve felt this way. Too long since I’ve felt anything. And I have wanted you from the very first time I met you.”
Nick still didn’t speak, indecision warring inside him, even as his heart—and cock—leapt at her words.
“Please,” she said, “make love to me, Nick. I just want to be with you.”
A low growl rumbled in his chest. How the hell was he supposed to deny her a request like that? He couldn’t. Even if he did turn out to be rebound boy.
For the second time that night, he caught her hand and tugged her toward his apartment building, rushing her up to his second-floor apartment.
Once inside, he dropped her hand and simply watched her as she took in his place with its shabby furniture, clutter, and lack of pictures on the wall, or decorations of any kind. Books and newspapers littered most surfaces and a mug of coffee from this morning sat on the table that served as his kitchen table, coffee table and desk.
“It’s not exactly as nice as your place,” he said, suddenly conscious of that fact that he’d never made much effort to make his apartment a home.
“Well, my place came at a steep price,” she said. She’d said that before and Nick wondered what that meant.
She walked to the bookcase on the far wall of his living room. There, amid more books, were the only pictures of any sort he had. Old photographs in cheap frames.
“Family?” she asked, leaning in to study them closer.
He nodded, wondering what she’d make of his big Italian family, knowing they would love her.
“Can I get you a drink?” Suddenly scared of how quickly and easily his thoughts had gone to Annie meeting his family. And they hadn’t even had an official date yet. How could he be so certain about this woman? So sure she was the one?
She stopped perusing his books and smiled at him. That sweet, adorable smile, and again, he just knew.
“I’m fine,” she said and it took him a moment to remember he’d offered her a drink.
She continued her stroll around his small apartment, pausing once she reached the door slightly ajar to the left of his kitchen. She tilted her head and smiled at him, her flirty expression making his blood sizzle.
“Is this your bedroom?” She leaned forward, peeking into the crack between the door and the jamb.
He found himself returning her naughty little smile with one of his own. “It might be. Maybe you should investigate.”
Her smile broadened. “Investigate. How very detective-like of you.”
“Isn’t it?”
She hesitated for a fraction of a second, then pushed the door open. Her smile widened. “It
is
a bedroom.”
“You are an excellent detective.”
“Why, thank you.” She stepped into the dim room, and he followed her.
Chapter Seventeen
A
nnie entered the room, then stopped in the middle, unsure what to do now. Even making the move to get to his bedroom had felt amazingly brazen to her. Not that she hadn??t initiated sex in her relationship with Bobby. But they’d been young, and their physical relationship had evolved from a naïve exploration of each other to sex. It had been gradual, and in that slow pace, there had been a certain security. A sense of control.
This felt wild.
She looked at Nick silhouetted against the light from the living room, his shoulders broad, his body lean. She knew there were sinewy, strong muscles under his clothing. Powerful muscles.
Bobby had been muscular too, but Nick had a leaner build, a lithe power like a wild animal. A tiger. A panther. Something that was beautiful—and potentially dangerous.
He walked toward her, and her stomach tightened with both desire and trepidation. But he didn’t touch her. Instead of touching her, he moved around her to switch on the lamp on his nightstand.
He turned back to her, and she could see his warm brown eyes, and all of her fear disappeared. Looking into those golden brown eyes that she found so fascinating, she realized Nick would never hurt her.
Any fear she felt stemmed from the unknown. Like she was finally going to make love with a man versus a boy.
He walked up to her, stopping just inches away from her.
“You’re sure?”
All fears left her. She’d told him she wanted this. And she did. Desperately. She wanted to know how it finally felt to be with a man who could make her heart race with just a smile. Who could send delicious shivers down her spine with the timbre of his voice. Who looked at her like she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
But she didn’t speak. Instead she closed the space between them, and rose up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to those lips that she wanted to feel on every part of her body.
His lips moved against hers, but he didn’t take control as if he somehow knew she was overwhelmed by the idea of him. He remained still, letting her experiment with their kiss. For the briefest moment they just clung to each other. Lips to lips, but very quickly that wasn’t enough for Annie. She’d tasted him and she wanted more.
With more brazenness than she would have imagined, she brushed her tongue along the seam of his lips, teasing him into opening for her. He did, obedient, almost submissive. The idea that she could control his power excited her. Urged her on.
She tilted her head and kissed him deeply with all the passion she’d been keeping in check. He groaned, deep in his throat, but otherwise he still let her control their embrace.
Excitement raged through her as she reached for the leather jacket he still wore, tugging at the zipper, then pushing the garment off his shoulders. Her fingers returned to his shirt, fumbling anxiously with the buttons. After much pulling, and a little help from him, the shirt joined the jacket on the floor, and her hands could finally touch his warm skin and knead the taut muscles beneath.
As her hands stroked over his hot, smooth skin she realized he had a tattoo on his shoulder. Her fingers paused there, but in the dim light she could not see it clearly.
But there was one thing she did know very clearly: he felt wonderful, even better than she’d imagined. And she’d imagined him more than she’d even been willing to acknowledge to herself. Her hands sculpted over his shoulders, his chest, his sides, his muscles flexing and quivering with each caress.
She moaned, her hands sliding down his taut stomach to the waistband of his pants. The button popped open, and the zipper rasped as she eased it down. Metal sliding against metal like a relieved hiss in the quiet room.
His low growl joined the other sound as she slipped her hand down over his pelvis, coarse hair tickling her fingers as she wandered lower, finally reaching what she so desperately wanted to touch—see—taste—feel deep inside her. Claiming her.
Her fingers paused, just for a moment, his size startling her. Then her body responded with a hot, wet eagerness. Her vagina throbbed, almost seeming to plead with her to get that thick hardness deep inside her. Now.
She moaned and curled her fingers around him, stroking the velvety skin of his shaft. Her touch seemed to be the undoing of his submissiveness.
He caught her wrist, stilling her hand, but keeping it pressed tightly to him. He took control of the kiss, his possession leaving her breathless and weak. Then he pulled away; the only parts of them touching were her hand still holding his rock-hard penis, and his hand holding her wrist.
“I want to go slow,” he muttered roughly almost as if talking to himself.
She moved her fingers, doing little more than wiggling them against his hot, aroused flesh. He groaned, the sound deep and guttural. Again she was reminded of a wild animal.
She realized he was working to keep himself tightly restrained. She could feel it in the air around them, but she realized that now the idea of him letting loose didn’t scare her. She wanted him to take out all that wild passion on her. She wanted her body sore and aching from his fierce lovemaking.
She twitched her fingers again, smiling at his reaction. The tightening of his jaw as he clenched his teeth, the slow breath in deep through his nose, the dilation of his eyes beneath his half-closed lids.
“I want you inside me,” she whispered as she gently squeezed him. She smiled, pleased with his sharp intake of breath and her own audacity. She felt bold and wild herself, new feelings spurred on by his intense reaction to her.
“Are you going to put this deep inside me?”
He nodded. “God, yes.”
“Show me.”
He growled again, his hands going to her clothing, easily divesting her of her layers until she stood before him in just her lavender bra and panties.
For a moment, the uncertain Annie returned and she fought the urge to cover herself. But Nick’s low, hungry words stopped her.
“Annie Lou Riddle, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”
Annie watched in dazed awe as Nick, in his breathtaking half-naked glory, slowly dropped to his knees before her. He remained still for a few moments, his face nearly level with her pelvis.
“I love these panties,” he said, running a finger along the lace edging that disappeared between her thighs, stopping just short of brushing over the place at that was wet and pulsing, eager for his touch.
“Purple is one of my favorite colors,” he said, looking up her with his naughty little smile.
“Is it?” she managed to say, her voice breathy.
“Definitely.”
Again he traced a finger along the lace, this time hooking the edge with his finger. Slowly he peeled the silky material aside, baring her. She gasped as he leaned forward, closer to her. She could feel his breath on her exposed, damp flesh, and she struggled not to jut her hips toward his lips, so, so close to her.
“But I like pink better than purple,” he murmured. He leaned forward and ran his tongue up the length of her lips, starting low and moving up, brushing just fleetingly over her aching clitoris.
She gasped, her hand sinking into his hair.
His tongue lapped over her again, this time going deeper, a hot raspy stroke of heaven. Her knees quivered, her reaction making her weak.
Another lick, parting her, lingering at that tight little bud that ached and throbbed for him.
“You taste delicious,” he said, his breath hot on her wet skin. “And you are so pretty down here.”
He licked her again, his tongue stopping on her clitoris, swirling around it, teasing it, loving it.
“Do you like that, baby?”
She nodded mindlessly, a rapid bobbing of her head. God, yes, she loved it. She tried to form the words, but only a moan escaped her, her fingers knotting in his hair.
More licking, more swirls of his tongue directly against her engorged, aroused flesh.
“Tell me what you like,” he said against her, his words low and fierce, vibrating through her.
“I—” she gasped. “I like this.”
“This?” More delicious torture with his tongue.
She nodded, her fingers digging into his hair, her body swaying, her desire making her weak.
“How about this?” He angled his lips, sucking on her clitoris.
Desire that was so intense it bordered on pain, radiated through her. But instead of pulling away, she tilted her hips forward, pressing herself tighter against him, knowing only more of his wonderfully torturous touch would give her the release she so desperately needed.
He obeyed her silent request, moving a hand to her rear end, pushing her harder to his mouth, and suddenly she wasn’t the one demanding—she was the one submitting to his will, his amazing mouth.
Quickly, the waves of need grew, becoming more and more concentrated until she was lost to anything but the feeling he was creating inside her. She trembled, her muscles tightening as she surged toward release. His hand kneaded into her rear end, his tongue filled and stroked her. He held her upright, forced her to succumb to him.
And she did, a broken cry ripping from her throat as her body seemed to splinter, fragmenting into hundreds of crystalline shards of ecstasy. An orgasm more powerful than anything she’d ever experienced in her life.
And even after her violent reaction, he continued to tease her oversensitized flesh, with just fleeting strokes. She shivered, her body reacting again, even though she was weak; her legs shook and threatened to buckle under her.
With one last long lick, he rose and scooped her up into his arms. Normally, she would have stiffened, uncomfortable with being carried. Up in the air, against his hard chest. That required trust, and she’d lost that ability over the past few years. She’d learned to be cautious, guarded. Yet she didn’t strain or balk as he carried her to his bed.
“Such a tiny thing,” he said, then kissed her tenderly. She could taste her arousal on his lips. She found herself nestled in the middle of his bed as he straightened and regarded her for a moment.
Then he said, his tone almost reverent, “Do you have any idea how lovely you are?”
She shook her head. In truth, she didn’t have much sense about herself at all. Not for a long time, anyway. She certainly couldn’t recall a time, at least for a very long time, that anyone sounded so amazed by her.
“Well, you are.” His voice was low and husky.
She watched in anticipation and admiration as he pushed his pants down over his lean hips, baring himself to her. Her eyes ate up the sight of his broad shoulders, muscled arms and chest, flat stomach ... narrow hips and the amazing organ that jutted up against his taut belly.
She levered herself up onto her elbows, entranced by the beauty of him. Even after her intense orgasm, her body sizzled again, this time wanting to feel him deep inside her. Her vagina pulsed and she could feel moisture pooling between her thighs again.
“You are the one who is lovely.”
He chuckled at that, the mattress dipping under his weight as he crawled onto the mattress beside her. Without hesitation, her hand came out to touch him.
He paused for a moment, clearly enjoying the hand that stroked over his chest. Then he grinned, a naughty twinkle in his eyes.
“Lovely, huh? My buddies at the precinct wouldn’t let me live that one down.”
She smiled too. “Okay, how about handsome, gorgeous, breathtaking?”
His eyes still twinkled as he leaned closer. “Mmm, definitely better than lovely, but they’d still get me razzed.”
Her gaze dropped to his mouth, her breath escaping her as he got closer and closer, finally stopping only inches from her own lips.
“How about manly, macho, utterly masculine?” she whispered, her eyes moving from his lips to meet his gaze.
He leaned closer still. She could feel his breath against her damp lips. His heat.
“They aren’t bad,” he said, shifting forward to press a small kiss to the corner of her.
“But you think I can do better, huh?” she managed to murmur, arching upward as he kissed her jawline, then her throat.
“Oh, baby, I’m very, very happy with your opinion of me.”
She gasped slightly as he nipped her earlobe, the small bite sending shock waves throughout her whole body. For a moment, she had a hard time not just giving in to his ministrations. But she wanted her chance to touch and love him. Even if his nibbling kisses were marvelously delicious.
“Maybe I can do better,” she said, levering herself up to her elbows again.
He pulled back at her change of position, raising a curious eyebrow, then leaned back in to nibble at her bare shoulder.
Focus, she told herself. Focus.
She sat up further and placed her hands on his chest, nudging him back. At first, Nick didn’t follow her direction, then he allowed himself to be pushed back against the tangled bedding.
BOOK: DevilishlyHot
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