Never Gamble with a Caffarelli(44)

Angelique unhooked her hands from around her legs. ‘I am, actually. It must be the cold wintry air. I used to eat heaps when I came here as a kid. My nanna was a fabulous cook.’

‘Your grandparents didn’t have a housekeeper?’

‘Yes, but nanna still did most of the cooking. I used to help her. I can still make a mean batch of oat cakes and flapjacks.’

He smiled a sexy smile as he held out his hand to her. ‘I’m told it can sometimes get very hot in the kitchen.’

Angelique felt a tingle in her core as his strong fingers wrapped around hers. She gave him a sultry look. ‘If you think it’s going to be too hot for you, then you should stay out of there.’

He brought her up against his body, his aroused body. Another tingle coursed through her, making her nipples stand to attention. His gaze zeroed in on her mouth for a pulsing beat. ‘I’m pretty sure I can handle it.’

She moved against him, just the once, but it made his eyes go almost black with desire. ‘You think?’

He swept her up in his arms and carried her towards the door. ‘Let’s go and find out.’

* * *

Remy slid her down his body once they got to the kitchen. Her body inflamed his; he had been burning for her ever since they’d arrived. It seemed years since he’d last made love with her but it had only been last night. And what a night that had been.

He craved her.

Ached for her.

His groin was tight with longing; he wanted to sink into her and lose himself. Block his thoughts—the rational, sensible ones, that was. He wanted to feel the magic of her touch, the way her body clenched so tightly around him as if she never wanted to let him go. He could not remember a more passionate, exciting lover. It felt different somehow...more intense; as if his skin had developed a new, overly sensitive layer that only responded to her touch.

Remy started playing with her lower lip in little tug-and-release bites. ‘How’s the heat so far?’

She snaked her arms up around his neck and threaded her fingers through his hair. ‘Not hot enough.’ She slid her tongue into his mouth and he nearly disgraced himself then and there.

He took control of the kiss, deepening the thrusts of his tongue as it chased and subdued hers. She gave little gasps and encouraging groans, her body pressing as close as she physically could. He felt her mound rubbing against his erection, a tantalising tease of the delights to come.

He lifted her up on to the kitchen bench and stood between her spread thighs. ‘You’re wearing too many clothes,’ he growled against her mouth.

She nibbled at his lips. ‘That would be because it’s below freezing outside.’

He grabbed at the back of his cashmere sweater and tugged it over his head. Next came his shirt, which lost a button or two in the process. ‘Now let’s start on you.’

She gave him a seductive look as she undid the tiny pearl buttons of her designer cardigan. She was wearing a black lacy camisole underneath that showed the shadow of her cleavage and the perfect globes of her breasts. ‘I’m not wearing a bra.’

His groin tightened another notch. ‘I can see that.’

She peeled the shoestring straps over her shoulders, one by one, lowering the lacy garment slowly, like a high-class stripper. ‘You want to touch me, don’t you?’

I want to do more than touch you. ‘What gives you that idea?’ Remy did his deadpan face.

Her lips curved upwards in a siren’s smile. ‘I’m not going to let you touch me until I’m good and ready. You have to be a good boy and wait.’ She lowered her camisole a little further, revealing a tightly budded pink nipple. ‘Do you think you can do that?’

Remy had to count backwards to stop himself from jumping the gun. His need was pulsating with such relentless force it was painful. ‘I’ll wait, but you do realise at some point in the future you’re going to pay for this, don’t you?’

She gave a little mock shiver. ‘Ooh! Is that supposed to scare me?’

‘Be scared,’ he growled. ‘Be very scared.’

She exposed her other breast, all the while holding his gaze with the dancing, mischievous heat of hers. She glided her hand down over her belly to the waistband of her pencil-thin designer jeans. ‘I’m wet. I bet you want to feel how wet, don’t you?’

Remy had never been so turned on. He was fighting to keep his hands off her. He couldn’t think about anything but the need to thrust into her to the hilt and explode. ‘I’m hard. I bet you want to feel how hard, huh?’

Her eyes sparkled as she traced a fingertip down the ridge of his erection through the fabric of his trousers. ‘Mmm; impressive.’ She took the same fingertip and traced it down the denim-covered seam of her body. ‘I guess I should get out of my jeans. Would you like that?’