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The Missing Heir(94)

By:Barbara Dunlop


                Amber set down her glass, impulsively shifting closer. “But now you care.”

                He gazed into her eyes. “It’s pretty easy to care.”

                She reached for his hands and squeezed. “It’s pretty easy to care about you, too, Cole.”

                She’d meant to be reassuring, friendly and comforting. But her tone had become breathy, and the atmosphere thickened between them.

                Cole stroked his thumbs across the backs of her hands. Then he stroked the inside of her wrists, watching as he moved his way up her bare arm.

                Arousal became a deep, base pulse in the center of her body.

                He raised his head, and there was a tremor in his tone. “I know I have no right to ask.”

                She wanted him to ask. She desperately wanted him to ask.

                “Just for tonight,” he said. “Just for a little while.”

                She nodded.

                “Can we stop fighting it?”

                She nodded harder.

                “Oh, Amber.” He leaned forward, placing his lips against hers, tenderly at first, but then with unmistakable purpose. She came up on her knees, wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling forward to kiss him more deeply.

                He turned her into his lap, his hand splaying across her stomach as his tongue teased hers.

                Instinct took over, and her body arched reflexively toward him while their kiss continued.

                “You are so beautiful,” he breathed.

                “You are so wet.” She drew back to stare at his shirtfront. “You’re still soaking wet.”

                He gave a soft chuckle. “I could take it off.”

                “Yes.” She nodded, pretending it was merely a practical suggestion. “You should take it off.”

                He flipped the buttons open, making his way down the pale gray shirt. She glimpsed his chest, then his abs. Then he peeled the shirt away, revealing his muscular shoulders and arms. He was an incredibly magnificent man.

                “You’re the one who’s beautiful,” she told him.

                She gifted a lingering kiss on his smooth chest, flicking out her tongue to leave a wetter spot on his skin.

                “Do that again.” His voice was tight.

                She kissed him again, tasting the salt of his skin, feeling his heat through the tenderness of her lips.

                “I got your shirt wet,” he rasped.

                “That’s too bad.” She kissed a slow path across his chest.

                One of his hands bracketed her hip; the other undid the buttons on her shirt.

                “Are you fixing it?” she asked, lips brushing his skin as she spoke.

                “I’m fixing it.”

                “That’s good.” She shrugged out of the shirt, revealing her white lace bra.