Impatient with the ponytail, he slid two fingers beneath the band and worked it free. Her hair spilled in a glorious mass against the white comforter. In addition to the red, there were several streaks of gold, either kissed by the sun or on purpose—he didn’t know and didn’t care. “Talk to me,” he murmured against the corner of her mouth, nibbling a couple of kisses, which led to a series of them. He wanted to nuzzle her ear and feel her hair against his skin.
She arched her back and laughed when he closed his lips on the pulse point behind her ear. Always one to exploit a weakness, he paid particular attention until she squealed in breathless laughter and then lifted his head to look down at her. Her cheeks were a ruddy pink, flushed with passion and laughter. “Tell me—what’s got you so wound?”
“You just met me. You don’t want my life story.” She dragged him back down for another kiss. Admittedly, the soft satin and velvet of her lips were like a drug to his system, he could spend hours sampling the different types of kisses—the long, hot wet one—the sweet, almost chaste teasing one—and the hard-tongue-sucking-teeth-nibbling-drive-his-cock-wild one.
But as stiff and painful as his dick grew, he wanted more than a quick bang in the dark—he wanted all the passion and fire beneath the thin veil of ice. He rolled her over and pinned her hands above her head. Lifting his head, he stared down at her. Fuck, she’s gorgeous.
The buttons on her shirt had come loose in their tussle to reveal a lacy-cupped bra hugging her breasts. The light sprinkling of freckles on her nose stretched down to decorate the gentle swell of flesh straining against the bra. The pupils in her eyes widened and her breath came in gasps to match his own.
“You know the best part of a one-night stand?” He traced his fingers down the column of her throat to her chest and shifted to circle the outline of one stiff nipple. “You don’t ever have to see me again…we can say whatever the hell we feel like and there’s no judging, no strings, no consequences—”
One minute he was on top and the next, he was flat on his back with the titian-haired goddess straddling him. She flicked open each button of his shirt until she could tug it out of his pants and drag her nails lightly down his chest. “Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?”
Laughing, he curled upward and locked his lips around the nipple he’d been teasing, nibbling it lightly through her bra until her back arched and she hissed out a long breath through her teeth.
“We can talk about it after,” he unbuttoned her blouse the rest of the way and slid a hand around to unhook her bra.
“Good plan.”
Chapter Three
Kim didn’t know whether to scream in frustration or shout with joy. Of all the men the mysterious Madame Eve might have picked for her, she’d chosen a man who actually cared what she thought. Her breasts ached with every delicious caress he lavished on her nipples. He took turns, trailing hot kisses between each. His teeth scraped and electricity zapped through her. Tenderness snuck under the wave of passion with every stroke of his tongue. She cradled his head in her arms, holding him to her.
Emergency flags waved in her mind, but she ignored them. Rowdy’s hands slipped around her ass and flipped her over onto her back again. He traced a path across her belly to unbutton her jeans. His pupils flared until they swallowed the hazel irises. Dragging a zipper open never seemed to take so long or sound so loud. He slid off the bed and peeled the denim downward, sweeping her panties with them, but had to pause when he arrived at her boots.
Lifting up on her elbows, she grinned at him. Toe to heel on one and she kicked it free. He pulled the other off and then her jeans hit the floor and he stared at her, his eyes dark with desire.
“You’re beautiful, Kim.” He rubbed a hand along the calf of her leg.
“And you’re overdressed.” The temperature in the room couldn’t cool the heat raging over her skin. He stood at the foot of the bed, his shirt hanging open to reveal the ripped muscles stretched tight across his pecs and the sturdy four-pack of his abdominals. Lean and mean, like a Marine should be. She loved what she could see…but damn she wanted more.
He stripped off his shirt and dropped to wrap his arms around her. His kiss took her mouth, hard and demanding. His tongue invaded like a surgical strike, taking the perimeter and claiming it for his own. The rough fabric of his jeans glided against her legs, harsh and sensuous in the same breath.
Breaking the kiss, he nuzzled a path to her ear and tugged at the lobe. “Put your hands over your head.”
Her brain struggled to interpret the order beneath the fog of pleasure clouding her thoughts. She dug her fingers into his back, but he shifted until she pulled her hands free reluctantly. Shackling her wrists lightly, he drew them over her head and tucked them beneath a pillow.