Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms securely around her. She jumped at the contact, resisting the automatic response to jerk away. The full press of his body set her on fire, amplifying the burning need to touch him back. To arch into him and take what he offered and damn the consequences.
“Hurry.”
When she took a deep breath, his scent infused her, setting off another wave of craving. A delicious heat sank deep in her gut, and she shook her head to clear her mind, desperately trying to remember her purpose.
She grabbed that ephemeral thought and shoved all those delicious sensations away. She refused to examine them, refused to admit to any attraction. She couldn’t allow herself to care for anyone. Not like that. Not again. “You’ll feel something like a curtain of static surround your body.”
“Do it.” His whispered words sent a shiver of doubt tearing down her spine about the sanity of their plan. Then she took a leap of faith and did it.
She opened herself, allowing just a fraction of energy to wrap around him. That was her intent anyway. An electrical storm swept through her, leaving her with one thought. To make him hers. It would be so easy. He was so willing. Her knees shook as she resisted the command.
A rough, animalistic growl vibrated from his chest. The tone hit her body hard. She instantly responded to it with a wave of desire that obliterated any thought but to plunder. The side of his face brushed her cheek, then her neck as if he couldn’t stand not touching every inch of her. A puff of breath on her pulse was all it took to break her damaged resolve.
The muscles of her legs weakened, and she sagged against him, delighted in the way he hardened under her touch, the ease in which he supported her weight. He didn’t feel like the boy she mistook him for on their first meeting. He was at least five inches taller than her, broad in the shoulders, lean in the waist and definitely old enough to know what he wanted if his body was any indication.
He dipped his head, lightly brushed his lips against hers, and she couldn’t find any air left in the closet to protest. A second passed. Two. Then breathing stopped being important when his mouth claimed hers again in a sweet kiss that left her insides a pile of mush. Trembling, she leaned back, embarrassed by her need.
What the hell did they think they were doing? But all that fled when he brushed his body against hers in just the right way to hit all her nerve endings at once. Imagining them both naked, him inside of her while he did that again nearly had her growling at him to not stop.
He rested his forehead against hers, his body shuddering with restraint. When he gently and inextricably drew her closer, she didn’t resist, wrapping her arms around him in turn.
His lips brushed her parted ones, lingering, tasting, testing, oh so temptingly within reach. He pulled the binding holding her hair until the strands spilled around her face. He inhaled deeply. In a rush of need, his hands slid over her ass then lower. She thought he was going to kneel when he straightened abruptly. With his hands behind her thighs, she found herself straddling his waist. Her back slammed against the wall of boxes, and the little rumble of hunger from him came so close to her neck that hot desire pooled between her legs.
Sharp teeth raked lightly down her throat, and her body hummed at such a simple but erotic gesture. She could barely open her eyes, but when she did, she instantly spotted the yellow bleeding the brown out of his gaze.
Not good. Not good at all. Reason reinserted itself. “I don’t think this is such a good idea.”
She pushed at his shoulders, and he immediately released her. Her feet touched the floor, and she trembled in an embarrassing weak-knee way that threatened to topple her on her ass. His chest heaved, each breath brushed his body against her.
Lightly.
Teasingly.
Ratcheting her need higher, making her wonder why she thought halting was a good idea.
A few kisses couldn’t be bad. Not when they tasted so good.
He pressed his palms on either side of her head and ducked so they were eye to eye. “Please.”
The door flew wide, wood groaned, splintering. An animalistic roar rang in her ears. Light seared her eyes and when she could see next, Taggert had vanished. Raven slid a few inches down the wall of boxes, fighting for composure and against the whimper working its way up her throat, waiting for her head to stop spinning.
The slam of flesh on flesh jerked her upright. She shot out of the closet in time to see Jackson slam his fist into Taggert’s stomach. The man didn’t go down, but came up swinging, clocking Jackson on the jaw. They went back and forth, exchanging blows, the bruises and cuts healing nearly as fast as the punches landed when she finally got her wits together.
“Stop.” She pushed between them and received snarls from them both that raised the hair on the back of her neck. Yellow eyes gleamed, watching as if waiting for her to choose.