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Project Runaway Bride(24)

By:Heidi Betts


Then and only then did he turn and deposit her in the center of her pressed floral sheets. They had tiny purple violets on them to match the solid purple of the coverlet and pillows, and she suddenly felt self-conscious about the overly feminine tones of the room when Reid was so very masculine. She almost expected the little violets to turn into footballs or some such from his presence alone.

But he didn’t seem the least bit interested in the room’s décor. He only had eyes for her, as he towered over her with one knee on the bed, his gaze burning like a bonfire.

A shiver ran through her as he reached for the top button of his shirt, muscles rippling beneath the crisp cotton. His fingers were bronze against the stark backdrop, working easily, deliberately moving in a slow line down the center of his chest.

One by one, the buttons slipped from their holes. Inch by inch, she was teased by glimpses of smooth flesh. When he reached the bottom, he tugged the tails from the waistband of his slacks and shrugged out of the shirt altogether, letting it float to the floor in a cloud of white.

Juliet swallowed hard. His chest, which she’d pictured in her mind for weeks, was now gloriously bare in front of her. Broad and well defined, it was covered with a light sprinkling of dark hair. It was obvious he worked out, stayed in shape, kept his military physique despite his current corporate vocation.

Leaning over her, he unbuckled the narrow belt at her waist, sliding it free before moving his hands to the hem of her satin dress. He pushed the material up, up, slowly upward. His warm, callused palms remained flat against her skin, raising goose bumps the entire length of her body as he skimmed them over the outside of her thighs, her waist, her chest, lifting her arms and tugging the dress off over her head.

She was left in her bra and panties. A sexy, matching set in magenta satin and lace to go with the dress Reid had just disposed of.

She swallowed hard, trying not to squirm beneath his intense scrutiny. His brown eyes smoldered like pools of molten lava as he raked her from head to toe and back again.

He started to reach for her at the same time she sat up. They met in the middle, mouths meshing, bodies pressing together.

His fingers tangled in her hair, holding her steady for his kiss while she fumbled for his belt. He grunted and gave an involuntary jerk when she hit pay dirt. Slipping the smooth leather from its buckle, she let the ends fall aside to concentrate on the front of his slacks.

By touch, she undid the top clasp and slowly lowered the tab of the zipper. He groaned as she reached inside to cup him through the thin barrier of his briefs, and she reveled in his heat and hardness, in the power of holding him at her mercy in the palm of her hand.

Or maybe she was at his mercy. Sliding his hands around her back, he unhooked her bra. The straps slumped from her shoulders and he dragged them the rest of the way down her arms, leaving her bare to the evening air and his intent gaze.

She released him long enough to shrug out of the bra entirely and drop it over the edge of the bed. Clutching his shoulders, she let him lower her back onto the mattress, but brought him with her. He snaked his fingers under the elastic band of her panties, drawing them down her legs and off. Then he sat back on his haunches.

Without taking his eyes from her, he dug into his hip pocket, removed his wallet and took out a single condom. He tossed it onto her stomach, the cool plastic on her bare skin causing a chill.

Once he had what he needed, he kicked out of the trousers altogether, dropping them to the floor with the rest of their discarded clothes. She moved the condom packet aside and raised her arms, inviting him closer.

The look in his eyes as he lowered himself against her chest and into the cradle of her thighs was wolfish to say the least. She had a brief flash of being Little Red Riding Hood, about to be devoured by his wild, furry badness. My, what big...everything you have.

As eager as she was—as they both were, she knew—he rested atop her gently and kissed her with soft, sweet abandon. Her breasts were pressed nearly flat between them, the nipples peaking at the slight abrasion of firm to delicate, rough to smooth.

She shifted, letting that friction heighten the sensations filling her even more, loving the weight of him sinking her farther into the mattress, the heat of him rubbing suggestively against the mound of her sex.

She stroked his back, down the line of his spine to tickle the top of his buttocks, then back up to sift through the short strands of his hair. He groaned, and she returned the sentiment with a long, drawn-out, pleasure-filled moan.

Reid rolled toward the center of the bed, bringing her with him. His hand slipped between them to cup her breast. He kneaded the mound of pillowy flesh, running the pad of his thumb across the tight tip until she wiggled in his hold, wanting closer, wanting more.