From Becca Jameson’s Website
“Why do you do it?” she mumbled.“Do what?” His hand threaded deeper into her hair, forcing her face closer to his. Another few inches and she could get her wish to taste those luscious lips.“Stay here. With me,” she whispered. Why was she lying halfway on this man in nothing but a thin, tight camisole? Insanity was taking over.
“Because you don’t want to go to a safe house, and my apartment is crowded?” He smiled through his logic.
She stared at his lips as a smile spread. Her heart beat faster. She licked her own lips, her mouth suddenly dry.
Silence. Long moments of nothing but her heart rate pounding in her ears. She couldn’t remove her gaze from his mouth.
And then his hand flattened on the back of her head and he pressed gently. “Kiss me.” His voice was ragged. Deeper. Hoarse. He inhaled slowly, not pressing harder. Waiting.
She couldn’t move. She wanted those lips on her so badly. But should she? Weren’t they crossing into dangerous territory if she did so?
“Mikhail…” His name rolled off her tongue. So what if she threw caution to the wind and kissed this gorgeous man who was staying in her apartment? “I don’t want to make things awkward between us,” she told his lips.
“They don’t have to be awkward.”
“But we’re…”
“We’re what? We met. We have a connection. We’re permitted to act on it. There’s no law that says otherwise.”
She wiggled out of his grip and hauled herself to sitting next to him. “There’s the fact that I need you. I don’t want to ruin our friendship because I don’t think I can stay here alone right now.” She crossed her legs and fumbled with her fingers in her lap. “I’m not being fair at all. I know that. But you make me safe. My world’s upside down, and the only times I feel normal are when you’re close. It’s not rational.”
He stroked his hand down her arm and cupped her elbow. “Not everything has to be rational. It just is. There’s a chemistry between us, and you know it. I’ve done my best to keep my distance, let you clear your brain of all the drugs, give you time to put your head on straight.
“But it’s been almost three weeks. I’m not going to lie and say I haven’t been attracted to you from the moment I saw you. I’ve tried to talk myself out of it, but every time I lose.”
She watched his face closely. He was dead serious. And his voice… Damn his voice. His Russian accent tingled down her spine every time he spoke. But right now… His hoarse deep timbre… God…
“You’re so gorgeous.” He touched her hair again. “I love these curls. I love your porcelain skin. I love the way you cross your feet under you nearly every time you sit anywhere. When you laugh, it lights up your face. When you cry, it burns in my chest.” He rubbed a hand between his pecs.
She stopped breathing. Was it possible he was as attracted to her as she was to him?
“If you don’t feel the same, just say so, and I won’t ever mention it again.”
Seconds ticked by again. She slowly lifted her gaze to his face, seeing the vulnerability there. The man laid all the cards down. Without hesitating another moment, she lurched forward and set her mouth on his. She intended to keep it simple, express her agreement with her lips, but that’s not how it went.
As soon as she felt his warm full soft lips, she angled to one side and pressed harder, deepening the kiss. She’d never in her life been this brazen.
But then again, a sexy Russian fighter had never slept for three weeks on her couch.
His lips were everything she imagined and more. Soft. Delicious. And Lord the man knew how to use them.
When she licked the seam between them to tease him with her tongue, her world flipped upside down.
Literally.
He grabbed her shoulders and switched positions with her so she was flat on her back and he hovered over her. Except he didn’t hover. Not at all.
He never broke the kiss. He thrust his tongue into her mouth and devoured her, one hand cupping her face with fingers so broad they extended from the back of her head, over her cheek, and down her neck. His palm rested on her shoulder.
When she moaned into his mouth, he tossed one leg over hers, nudging her knees apart to situate his thigh between them.
She grabbed his forearm with one hand and cupped the back of his head with the other. Holy smokes. Her arousal shot through the roof. Brain cells leaked out onto the pillow. Every inhale filled her senses with more of him. Every swipe of her tongue filled her with his taste.
She molded her hands to his head and forearm, learning his feel. He was rock solid, and she loved it. She smoothed her hand down from his head to his neck and then his back. Every inch of him. Tight bundles of bulging muscles.
He eased his hand down from her face to her torso, spreading his fingers out until they stretched around to her back and down toward her belly. His thumb grazed the edge of her breast and made her arch into him.
He kept kissing her.
She never wanted him to stop.
A fire she hadn’t known existed lit inside her, warming her everywhere. She couldn’t stay still. She needed to move. Touch him everywhere. And she let her hands roam all over his back and down to his ass. So bold. The tight muscles of his butt made her even hotter.
Her nipples pressed against the cotton, abrading them. She wiggled her hips as her pussy came alive as if it had been in hibernation just waiting for the right person to come along and bring it back to life. Wetness leaked into her panties and probably through to her PJs.
She lifted her hips involuntarily, craving the friction against his thigh.
He obliged by pushing his knee up higher and thrusting it against her sex.
Oh. God.
She couldn’t breathe. So much sensation all at once firing from everywhere. She grabbed his shoulders finally and pushed, trying to break the contact. Her body was on overload, every synapse firing at once. No room to think.
Mikhail broke the kiss when she shoved on his chest. His breathing was heavy and erratic. He set his forehead against hers as he caught his breath. His thumb stroked over the curve of her breast.
Suddenly she was self-conscious. This man was a god. His body was a vessel of perfection. She was a skinny redhead with nowhere close to the same level of experience as he clearly had.
After all, he’d managed to scramble her mind in seconds.
“Mikhail…” His name rolled off her tongue so easily. Like honey. And she licked her lips as soon as she spoke. They were swollen. Wet from his kiss.
“Stop squirming, baby. Please.” He closed his eyes, but his mouth curved into a grin.
She froze, not realizing she was still rubbing herself against his bare thigh. The man wore nothing but boxers. “Sorry.” The word came out as a squeak. What was wrong with her?
His eyes popped open. “Don’t be. God, never be sorry for the way you feel. Especially if it’s hot and needy. It’s just that you’re making it difficult for me to be a gentleman here.”
His thumb. God, that thumb. He was driving her mad stroking it across the swollen globe. Every time she breathed, her chest rose up into his thumb tighter.
She opened her mouth, though she didn’t have any idea how to respond. Her face heated. There would be red splotches everywhere, even down her chest and across her breasts. She’d never been able to control that reaction to embarrassment.
Mikhail set a finger on her lips. “Shh. I can see the arguments running around in your head. Stop. Just let yourself feel.”
“I don’t…” she muttered against his finger.
He pressed harder. “I know.”
Carol Kittie Reviews 