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Under Pressure(10)

By:Kira Sinclair


His entire body responded. The need for her throbbed at every pulse point in his body, a drum beat that reverberated through his head, urging him into action.

Settling her between his open thighs, Asher let his hands rest on the curve of her shoulders. She was stiff beneath his hold, but he wasn’t sure if that was because her shoulder ached or because he had his hands on her.

“Where does it hurt?”

Kennedy leaned her head to the left, her hair sliding sideways and exposing her neck. “Right here.” Her hand brushed from the base of her neck up over her shoulder.

Digging his thumb into the spot, Asher quickly found the knot in her muscle and rubbed.

She groaned but didn’t pull away from his hands. He’d had enough injuries to understand why she whimpered whenever he hit a particular spot. The phrase hurt so good came to mind.

After a few minutes her muscles began to relax, eventually going warm and loose beneath his hands. He probably could have stopped, but he didn’t. Her skin was so smooth and soft. It felt like silk against his fingers. And he couldn’t quite resist the way her body melted. Her spine curved a bit. Her hips settled farther back against him.

As the quiet minutes ticked by, the space between them dwindled. He liked the way Kennedy was letting him take her weight, her lithe little body gradually collapsing against his chest. He knew relying on someone else wasn’t normal for her.

She was strong and smart. Wore her efficiency like a medal around her neck and reveled in her competence and independence. He could just imagine her as a little girl, chasing after her big brother and insisting she could do anything he and his friends were doing, despite being seven years younger than the rest of them.

There were times when it was easy to forget that he was nine years older than she was. But moments like this made that difference glaring...because it was just one more reason he shouldn’t want her.

Her life was just beginning, while he’d already seen the world, and been disappointed by most of it.

His hands swept down her back, moving far from their initial purpose. Over her hips. Up her arms. His fingertips skimmed her throat and across her collarbones.

He couldn’t help himself. Especially when Kennedy arched into his caress, her breath catching in a throaty little sound that made his pulse thrum and his cock go rock hard.

There was no mistaking his response to her. Not with her rear settled right against the obvious ridge.

She squirmed, the curve of her ass torturing him in new and delightful ways.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice gruff.

Twisting her head, she stared up at him out of those delicious whiskey eyes. Heat rolled through him, matching the blaze of honeyed need he recognized in hers.

Kennedy shook her head, a denial that was probably too late for either of them to heed. Asher placed his hands on her hips, ready to push her away and do the right thing. He was playing with fire here. This wasn’t going to end well for either of them.

But before he could follow through, she moved up, threaded her fingers into his hair and dragged his head down to hers. Her mouth sealed to his, hard and insistent. Unyielding. Fighting for control of the moment.

If any other woman had kissed him that way he probably would have walked away. He liked being in control, needed it to feel comfortable and in charge of the situation. There was nothing comfortable about what he felt for Kennedy. Nothing easy.

This was all kinds of messed up. Jackson was going to kill him if he ever found out. But Asher couldn’t seem to muster up the will to care. Not right now anyway.

He’d fantasized about Kennedy’s mouth for a long time—deep kisses, teasing and soft licks of her tongue, those dark pink lips stretched around his hard...

A groan rolled up from deep inside his chest. Shit, he thought, right before giving in.

Bracketing her face with his palms, he pulled her closer. He needed a deeper taste. If he was doing this, he was damn well doing it right.

Angling her head, he licked at her lips, enjoying the way she opened for him, eager for whatever came next.

“Goddammit,” he whispered right before diving inside the moist heat of her mouth.

The moment swirled around them. The scent of her enveloped him. She tasted sweet and forbidden. Like the most decadent dessert. The kind of thing you were only supposed to indulge in once in a while but always craved.

Kennedy wasn’t the kind of woman to sit idly and let a man take over. Even as he maneuvered her head, she was shifting her body. Crawling into his lap without losing their connection. Taking just as much as giving.

Her tongue tangled with his, matching him stroke for stroke. Her hands wandered over his shoulders, flipping the buttons on his shirt until she could find bare skin.

A hungry little sound rolled through her throat.

Asher drank it up, keeping it all for himself.

Spreading her thighs, she settled her hips right over him, grinding down on his already throbbing erection.

Her hands raced across his skin, touching, teasing, driving him insane. With a gentle yank, she shoved his shirt down his arms to pool on the bed beside them.

Everything was a red haze, clouding out reality and any scrap of decency he’d been trying to cling to. His only thought was to finally have what he wanted. Her.

His fingers slipped beneath the hem of her shirt, pulling it off over her head and throwing it across the room, uncaring where it might land.

Pulling back, Asher let his gaze roam down her exposed body. Her bra was beige, but there was nothing plain about the way it cupped her breasts, pushing them high enough to make his mouth water. He could see the tight pink centers begging for attention through the thin fabric.

Leaning down, he sucked one deep into his mouth, relishing the soft cry of pleasure that fell from her parted lips.

Her fingers tightened where she gripped his shoulders. Her hips bucked as he lightly scraped his teeth across the distended nipple.

He could feel the heat of her as she rocked against him, searching for a relief he needed just as much. Reaching between them, he found the wet heat of her desire soaking through the thin barrier of her shorts, driving him mad.

He rubbed. She gasped, energy crackling between them.

God, he needed more of her.

His hands played across her back, stroking her soft skin. She was so warm.

His fingers pulled at the clasp of her bra, intent on freeing her so he could taste more.

But before he could undo the little hooks, her hands slammed down over his arms, pinning them to her sides. “Stop,” she said, panting.

Immediately, Asher stilled. He was a lot of things, and not all of them good, but one thing he’d never do was push a woman past the point she was comfortable.

Kennedy shifted back on his lap, rolling against his pounding erection and pulling out a ragged groan.

Asher shut his eyes, searching for his good intentions. And waited for her to climb off him, but she didn’t.

Her fingers stayed wrapped around his biceps. His pinky brushed against the soft skin at her waist. Her moist breath puffed against his throat.

Was she torturing him on purpose?

“Seriously, Kennedy. I only have so much willpower. You need to get up.”

When she still didn’t move after several seconds, Asher opened his eyes only to find her staring at him. Her gaze was enigmatic and way too thoughtful. How did she have brain cells still functioning? He felt as if his were ready to explode right along with the rest of his body.

“That wasn’t what I meant,” she said.

What the hell was she talking about? “I’m pretty sure there’s only one meaning for stop. Especially when a man has his tongue and hands all over a half-naked woman.”

Her lips twisted into that smart-ass grin that drove him completely nuts.

“You know what? Every time I see that chivalrous streak you seem to prefer to hide, I’m always surprised. But I shouldn’t be by now.”

“I don’t take advantage of women. I don’t have to.”

Something dark twisted through her gaze. “Of course not. Not when they throw themselves at you.”

“That has nothing to do with it.”

“Sure it does.”

Asher wrapped his hands around her hips and lifted Kennedy off his lap, depositing her onto the bed beside him. He moved to leave, but she grasped his arm.

“Seriously, Asher. I told you to stop because the camera is still rolling.”

He glanced over to the corner of the room where the lens silently watched them. Immersed in Kennedy, he’d completely forgotten it was there, recording every passionate kiss, erotic sigh and demanding touch.

Thank God she hadn’t, because the last thing he wanted was for some cameraman to get an eye full of naked Kennedy.

Suddenly, an overprotective and possessive wave swept through him, heating his skin and tightening every muscle in his body.

“No, that wouldn’t be good.”

The smirk on her face went a little more dangerous. She considered him, tilting her head to the side. “I’ll erase the footage before giving the camera back to Neil.”

“Who the hell is Neil? And you damn well better. Haven’t you had enough brushes with public indecency?”

She flinched at his words. Asher immediately regretted them, but there was no way to take them back.

“I’m sorry,” he forced out between stiff lips. Just minutes ago they’d been warm and wet beneath Kennedy’s mouth. He wanted that back, even if, now that he was out from under the haze of lust, his sanity was returning.