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Hot Protector(48)

By:Lynn Raye Harris


She moaned, grasping his head to her breast. “You’re evil, you know that?”

“Consider it payback for that shit you pulled when we were driving to the airport.” He lifted his head and looked down at her, his expression serious. “You were pretending and I know that. But don’t pretend now. Tell me what you want, Soph. What you really want… and I’ll give it to you better than you’ve ever had it.”

He made her shiver. “Arrogance isn’t attractive, Chase.”

He snorted. “Hell yes, it is. Especially when it involves sex. I’m good and I know it. That should make you happy, not annoyed.”

She reached for the button fly of his jeans. He was right. “I want to feel you inside me. I want to come that way—and I never have before, so now you know the challenge you face.”

She could feel fresh heat wash over her skin as she said it, but what the hell? He needed to know, though maybe that was a mistake too, because what if it was bad after all and he didn’t want to stop until she came—and she couldn’t?

Like he could be bad after what he’d just done to her.

He lifted himself until she could finish unbuttoning his jeans, and then he kicked them off and his cock sprang free, standing up straight and tall—and intimidating. Yep, that was the word.

It was huge and veined and, hell, would she survive being impaled by that thing?

She very much wanted to find out.

He picked up his jeans and pulled a condom from the pocket. She watched him tear it open and roll it on, every move sensual and hot. In fact, she could watch him stroke himself until he came, his head rolling back and his eyes closing as he shot semen onto her belly.

Maybe she’d tell him she wanted that the next time. The next time.

She didn’t know if there would even be a next time, but this time she spread her legs as he settled between them, his hand still gripping his cock, his eyes hot as he slid the head of his penis against her pussy, wetting it before he pressed into her entrance.

“Oh,” she moaned, her back arching as he slid all the way inside her. She felt full, almost too full, but it was a good feeling. An amazing feeling as he stretched her wide, creating tension against sensitive nerve endings.

“Holy shit,” he said when he was deep within her, their bodies quivering with energy and sizzling with heat. “You feel incredible.”

If she could’ve talked at that moment, she’d have said the same thing.

Sophie wrapped a hand around his neck and dragged him down to her, thrusting her tongue into his mouth. It was either do that or lose her mind and start saying shit she wouldn’t remember the next day. She’d never in her life needed what she needed right then.

“Fuck me, Chase,” she whispered against his mouth. “Make it good.”





22


“You are certain it was her?”

Grigori Androv stood in his Manhattan office, staring at the view of the Hudson River. He’d been on edge for the past few days, angry that his men couldn’t seem to find Sophie Nash and recover his flash drive.

But they’d gotten a break yesterday when Open Sky hacked the shipper’s database and found where Sophie had sent the package. He’d immediately ordered Sergei onto a plane bound for France. Once there, Sergei would use men from the Paris operations to watch the apartment and intercept the package that was due tomorrow.

And now they’d gotten another lucky break, because it seemed as if Sophie was planning to show up personally to collect it. When she did, his men would grab her. Then Grigori would send her to the auction in Monte Carlo where she would fetch a nice price.

Small compensation for all the trouble she’d caused.

He didn’t care that her parents were wealthy or that her father was a famous musician. They would never find her, nor would they connect him to her. Open Sky would make certain of that. When they were finished, Sophie would have a checkered past involving drug abuse and illicit sex. No one would be surprised that she’d disappeared.

It was risky, but he got off on risk. Lived for risk. Risk made him hard.

“It was her,” Sergei said. “It took me a while to figure it out. I knew she seemed familiar when I saw her in the terminal—but she has black hair, and she was wearing glasses and speaking with a British accent. It wasn’t until I got close enough to see her eyes that I knew.”

It was a stroke of good fortune that Sergei had gotten on the same plane as Sophie. If Grigori had made him return to New York first, that would not have happened.

“And she’s with a man?”

“Yes—and they were very affectionate with each other.”

Grigori gritted his teeth. “Presumably this is the man she went to see in Maryland.”