Hot Protector(45)

“I am eating, asshole.”

He picked up some noodles with his chopsticks and held them out to her. “You didn’t take any noodles.”

“Noodles are starchy.”

“Try them, Sophie. For me.”

She snorted. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those guys who like to stuff a girl full and watch her get fat.”

His eyes gleamed. “Oh, I like to stuff a girl full all right, but it’s not food I’m using when I do it.”





20


She was sitting there in that fucking robe—the second time she’d worn a robe in his presence—staring at him with her mouth hanging open. Her hair was messy and piled on her head, and she didn’t have on any makeup.

But it was the gaping vee of the robe that had most of his attention. He could see the curve of a breast, the creamy swell of flesh and the lacy edge of her bra. He wanted to put his face there, smell her skin, and lick his way to her nipple.

He’d gone to check on her after he’d wakened earlier. She’d been lying on her stomach in that bed, covers thrown back, one leg kicked up, her ass cheeks peeking through the lace of her panties. Fucking lace panties with no lining. Just lace and skin and a pretty pink bow at the waistband. He’d wanted to turn her over and see if the lace was see-through on that side too. If there was another bow.

If he could see the soft triangle of her curls and the pink lips of her pussy.

He’d stood there above her, fighting the urge to wake her gently with his mouth on hers, his hands filling with her curves, and frantically thought that going to get food was a damn good idea.

He’d desperately needed the cooling-off time that going around the corner for Chinese would give him.

He wanted to fuck her. Badly. And every time he decided that was acceptable, it wasn’t the place or the time. So by the time he found himself with ample opportunity, he’d had time to talk himself out of it. To think of all the reasons it was a bad idea.

First, there was Grigori Androv and their mission to consider. He had to keep a clear head over that. Second, she was Tyler’s stepdaughter, and that brought with it a whole level of complication he didn’t need. Third… he’d forgotten what was third.

“You always say stuff like that,” she finally said, recovering her equilibrium, “and I have yet to see evidence of it. I’m beginning to think you make it all up, Chase.”

He still held the chopsticks out, and she finally leaned forward and took the bite of noodles. He couldn’t say why that gratified him, but it did.

“Mmm,” she said, closing her eyes for a second.

And Christ, he wanted to kiss her. His cock hardened and sweat broke out over his body. When was the last time he’d been so intrigued by a woman that he’d felt this kind of anguished need for her?

Or maybe that was just the situation. Who they were. The forbidden aspect of his desire.

She opened her eyes again, and he picked up more noodles, held them out. She took them without hesitation. The next bite went into his mouth.

She offered him some of her orange chicken and he took it. Somehow they ended up feeding each other off their own plates, trading bites in silence, their eyes locked together in some sort of sensual duel.

It was, without doubt, the most erotic meal he’d ever had in his life—and that was counting the time he’d eaten dessert off a woman’s body. She’d been a chef and the entire meal had been spectacular, ending with an amazing array of chocolate, strawberries, and fresh whipped cream placed strategically over her naked form.

Yet somehow that didn’t compare to trading bites of Frenchified Chinese food with Sophie. She curled her tongue around the chopsticks, moaned at every bite, and chewed slowly and deliberately.

Finally, when he couldn’t take it anymore, he took the chopsticks from her and laid them on the table. Then he dropped to his knees on the floor and spread her legs open, running his palms up her calves, the insides of her knees, her thighs. She trembled beneath his touch, her breath shortening the higher he got.

“What is this, Chase?” she asked as he pulled her ass forward on the chair. “What are you doing?”

He looked up at her in disbelief. “You can’t figure it out?”

She sucked her lower lip between her teeth and an arrow of need lanced into him. “I keep thinking I’m going to wake up. Or you’re going to say never mind, this is a bad idea.”

“It is a bad idea. But a hard-on has no conscience, Sophie—and I’ve been hard for you for days.”

Her hands went to the tie of the robe and she undid it. He didn’t miss the trembling in her fingers as she unknotted the belt. But she pulled the robe open and his breath caught in his lungs.