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For 100 Days(18)

By:Lara Adrian


I don’t want him to ask. I don’t need it. Not right now.

Not from him.

Seeing him that first night, talking to him inside the gallery . . . it’s cracked something open inside me. He’s seen through my fissures tonight the way I’ve never let anyone else before, and there’s no taking it back. I don’t want to take any of it back. Not when I’m kissing him out here in the darkness with the knowledge that this is only a prelude to where we’re heading.

He rocks into me, our bodies melding together in perfect alignment. Part of me registers a jolt of shock at feeling the hard ridge of his erection pressing against my abdomen, but that part of me isn’t the one in charge of my thinking now. I’m not thinking; only feeling. And what I feel is need—all of it centered on this man. It’s wild and out of control, something very foreign to me.

It’s reckless.

What I’m doing here is probably worse than foolish. Hell, I know it is. I also know I’ve never wanted anything more in my life.

A low, yearning ache thrums between my thighs. If I had any reservations about allowing myself to be pulled into his orbit, this kiss is the point of no return. The air is thick and heavy around us, charged with a current I can feel vibrating in him too.

I moan with the wave of arousal that floods me. As my lips open on that involuntary cry of need, Nick’s tongue sweeps inside, claiming a deeper taste. Stoking my need.

His hands release me, but only so that one of them can begin a slow slide down the front of my body. My pulse speeds as his touch descends from my neck to my breasts, then down the side of my rib cage, leaving fire in its wake even through the layers of my clothing.

He doesn’t stop there. With the same masculine confidence he’s had from the first moment our eyes locked on each other, he reaches down to cup my sex.

He caresses me, kneads me ruthlessly. Pleasure arcs through me and I gasp with the force of it. I can’t stop myself from rocking against the delicious pressure of his palm.

I clutch him as our kiss deepens and his hand continues to drive me mad with want. Sinking my fingers into his dark hair to anchor myself against the intense assault on my senses, I can’t curb my sigh at the luxuriant softness. Especially when everything else about him is hard and powerful, from the broad curves of his shoulders to the muscled planes of his back.

As I run my hands over him, I feel the demanding jut of his cock surge even fuller against me. An erotic thrill chases through me as we grind together just steps from the crowd inside the gallery.

My blood is racing, my heartbeat throbbing in every pulse point, though none so demanding as the knot of nerve endings between my clenched thighs. He could unzip my jeans and take me right here in the alleyway and I wouldn’t stop him. God, I’m so wet for him, I’m almost hoping he does.

He groans against my mouth, a strangled sound. When he pulls back to look at me, I see pure animal hunger in his hooded gaze. I see what looks almost like bewilderment—as if this fire erupting between us has caught him off guard too.

“Damn, you taste so fucking good,” he says in little better than a growl. His breath skates across my sensitized lips on a low curse. He takes a step back from me as if he needs the space. “Let’s get out of here.”

I nod, not quite capable of speech yet. At the end of the alley is a private parking area I had no idea was back here. He pulls a key fob from his pants pocket and a sleek black BMW coupe chirps to life.

I follow him over to the M6, easily the most expensive vehicle in the lot. Nick opens the passenger side door.

“Get in,” he instructs me, his voice a deep, velvet rasp.

But as I start to move in front of him to climb inside, he catches me once more and drags me into another fevered kiss. This one is swift, but carnal. Even more so than before. The heat of it licks through my nerve endings, straight to the wet ache pulsing between my thighs. I shudder, knowing if he touches me there again right now, I’ll explode.

I pull away from his mouth on a jagged sigh. “Drive fast.”





Chapter 9



Nick operates a car with the same purpose and command I just witnessed in the alley with him. Aggressive, confident, smoothly in control. It seems like only seconds since we left the gallery before we’re turning in to the Park Avenue building entrance.

To my still-thrumming body, it feels like hours.

Nick’s hand stroking my inner thigh the whole time hasn’t made it any easier. Although we haven’t spoken since we got in the car, the electricity snapping between us hasn’t lessened in the least. If anything, the short drive has only made me more impatient to pick up where we left off.