No Rules(38)

Very deliberately, he did it. Moving his grip to her wrists so she couldn’t push him away, he held her against the dresser and pressed his mouth to hers. Not the polite kiss she was probably used to, but a forceful, plundering kiss, crushing both their lips and joining their tongues. With her heart pounding against him, he muffled her small, startled sound and moved his mouth over hers.

It was a rush of sensations—heat, wetness, and something minty. Softness mixed with firmness, while the light scent of her made him dizzy with the desire to get closer. An impossibility, so he simply kissed her harder and longer, drawing deep satisfaction from the moan that vibrated into his mouth. That’s right, baby, this is what’s it like when a real man kisses you. If you play with fire, you get burned, so you’d better think twice about flirting with dangerous men. Leave them to the dangerous women.

He was lost in her warmth, taking all he could, until he realized that she was completely pliant and unresisting. He’d expected panic by now. Worry crept in that he’d come on too strong. They needed her cooperation, and if she was afraid to be near him, the operation would suffer. Summoning all the control he could, he lifted his mouth from hers. The taste of her lingered, hot and sweet, and the desire for more raged in the hard-on that pressed insistently against her stomach. Ignoring it was the hardest thing he’d ever done.

She blinked dazed eyes at him as he stepped back. He waited for the outrage, followed by a slap on the face. He could use it; it might bring him to his senses.

Her eyes cleared. He watched something darker creep in, a new understanding as her gaze held his. She’d gotten the message. She twisted her hands free, and he released her, bracing for the slap as she raised her arm.

Her hand landed on the back of his neck. She leaned closer, and he tensed at what he knew was false intimacy, meant to suck him in for a more jolting reprimand.

“You’re right,” she murmured.

“I am?” What had he said? His mind did a rapid rewind, recalling the phrase about her needing some danger in her life. Maybe she was about to go apeshit and give him a little danger in return.

“I think that was exactly what I need. In fact, I need more of it.” Before he could react, her lips landed on his.

It wasn’t the sort of kiss he would have expected from Jess. There was nothing innocent about it. Her tongue found his in a sinuous dance that did a good job of imitating the way her hips slid across his, igniting the desire he’d been struggling to extinguish. Her fingers delved into his hair while her other hand stroked his shoulder and explored the contours of his back.

For one second he was staggered, struggling to regain his wits. Then he acted. He knew what he had to do, knew he needed to put an immediate stop to this.

Fuck that. He wrapped his arms around her, banging her into the dresser in his eagerness to press closer. She didn’t flinch. Didn’t stop kissing him, her mouth wild and hot and eager. Like the rest of her body.

He let his hands roam as he abandoned all attempts at control. He explored everywhere—the curve of her hips, the dip at the small of her back, the firm swell of her breasts beneath her sweater. The urgent sounds in her throat told him she liked it, that she wanted more. When he squeezed her butt cheek she moaned and wrapped a leg around his, locking them together. Staggering, he slapped his other hand against the dresser to catch his balance and maintain the mind-blowing contact she’d achieved with his erection nestled snuggly into the valley between her legs. God, he wanted more of that.

Her hands locked around his neck, bringing his head lower. Bringing them both lower as her weight sagged in his arms, encouraging him to follow her to the floor. Great idea. He bent over to lay her on the carpet, prepared to rip away the clothes that created a frustrating barrier between them, when he came to his senses.

What in the hell was he doing? He was supposed to be preventing this, not instigating it. Digging his fingernails into the top of the dresser, he pulled them both upright and broke away. Holding up one hand, palm out, he ran the other through his hair, trying to make his mind work.

She blinked at him, disheveled and breathless. “Why did you stop?” Her gaze flew to the open door. “Do you think someone might see us?”

At least she wasn’t an exhibitionist. That was reassuring. He was beginning to wonder what other surprises the author of Gordon Groundhog and the Mossy Log Meadow Safety Patrol had in store for him.

“Jess, you shouldn’t be with me.”

Her chest still rose and fell with deep breaths, and he forced himself to look away from the tempting fullness he’d just had beneath his hands. “What are you talking about?” she asked, frowning. “You kissed me.”