for.
He pulled her toward him and kissed her once, twice... cursing roughly against her mouth as his lust spiked white-hot with just that brief taste.
God, she tasted good. Smelled good. She felt so good and right in his arms. As if the time they’d been apart had been only minutes, not years.
That alone should have scared him shitless.
Instead it made the need for her twist tighter.
Splaying his fingers behind her head, he held her to him and ravaged her mouth with all the hunger he was feeling. She moaned and went a little boneless in his arms, everything about her telling him that she was feeling the same out of control desire that he was.
On a low groan, he broke contact with her sweet, wet mouth to trail his tongue along her jaw line, over to her ear and the satiny skin beneath. His breath was ragged, sawing out of him in hard pants as lust swamped him, took him under.
She drew in a jagged gasp as he kissed the delicate column of her throat, and each hushed sigh and purr vibrated in his body and veins like a physical caress. Every sensation seemed to radiate straight to his cock.
Arousal hammered through him, making his already stiff and straining shaft turn to heated granite in his jeans.
Lisa’s hands smoothed up his arms and over his shoulders as their kiss deepened, intensified. He groaned and hauled her close, crushing her soft curves against his hard chest.
If she didn’t stop him, he would be going down in flames any second.
She didn’t stop him.
Clutching him tighter, she kissed him back with utter abandon. Her hot little tongue swept out and into his mouth, bold and demanding.
Oh, fuck. Not good .
All he could think about was being inside her. It didn’t help that he already knew how sweet and tight and addicting she would feel. He’d been tormenting himself with that memory for the past five fucking years.
Arguments for why they shouldn’t do this rolled over him one after the other. His friendship with Kyle. His affiliation with Phoenix, and the danger that brought to Duarte and anyone close to him since the program’s demise. To say nothing of Lisa’s current vulnerable state of distress and fatigue.
Except she didn’t feel distressed or fatigued in his arms.
She felt soft and pliant and willing.
No, she felt as raw and on-edge with need as he did.
She broke their kiss on a fevered moan and withdrew from the circle of his arms. Just far enough for her to lift the hem of her T-shirt.
Ah, Christ. She was killing him.
With her eyes rooted on his, she peeled off the dark shirt, baring her gorgeous breasts and the slender curves of her waist and hips.
Turned out she was wearing panties underneath. And fuck if simple white cotton bikinis had ever looked so goddamned hot.
She stepped back toward him, unrushed, heart-stoppingly gorgeous. The peaks of her bare nipples pressed into his chest. Then she kissed him again. Hungered. Insistent.
Leaving no room for doubt or his tarnished sense of honor.
There was no room for anything but the two of them.
And all the reasons he had for why he shouldn’t want this—for why he shouldn’t feel this undeniable need to be with her once more, let alone here and now—incinerated on the spot.
6
John Duarte kissed even better than she remembered.
He felt even better than she remembered. And although she was not the kind of woman to strip her clothes off in front of a man mere hours after arriving at his house in the middle of the night—unannounced and uninvited—Lisa couldn’t summon an ounce of shyness around him.
They’d already been down this road once before, so he was hardly a stranger. God knew he didn’t kiss like one. His tongue invaded her mouth with a possessive demand, and she opened to him, eager and hungry, as wildly turned on as he clearly was.
His hands roamed over her bare breasts before moving around to the column of her spine as his kiss deepened to a fevered pitch. Heat followed his palms as he traced them down
He pulled her toward him and kissed her once, twice... cursing roughly against her mouth as his lust spiked white-hot with just that brief taste.
God, she tasted good. Smelled good. She felt so good and right in his arms. As if the time they’d been apart had been only minutes, not years.
That alone should have scared him shitless.
Instead it made the need for her twist tighter.
Splaying his fingers behind her head, he held her to him and ravaged her mouth with all the hunger he was feeling. She moaned and went a little boneless in his arms, everything about her telling him that she was feeling the same out of control desire that he was.
On a low groan, he broke contact with her sweet, wet mouth to trail his tongue along her jaw line, over to her ear and the satiny skin beneath. His breath was ragged, sawing out of him in hard pants as lust swamped him, took him under.
She drew in a jagged gasp as he kissed the delicate column of her throat, and each hushed sigh and purr vibrated in his body and veins like a physical caress. Every sensation seemed to radiate straight to his cock.
Arousal hammered through him, making his already stiff and straining shaft turn to heated granite in his jeans.
Lisa’s hands smoothed up his arms and over his shoulders as their kiss deepened, intensified. He groaned and hauled her close, crushing her soft curves against his hard chest.
If she didn’t stop him, he would be going down in flames any second.
She didn’t stop him.
Clutching him tighter, she kissed him back with utter abandon. Her hot little tongue swept out and into his mouth, bold and demanding.
Oh, fuck. Not good .
All he could think about was being inside her. It didn’t help that he already knew how sweet and tight and addicting she would feel. He’d been tormenting himself with that memory for the past five fucking years.
Arguments for why they shouldn’t do this rolled over him one after the other. His friendship with Kyle. His affiliation with Phoenix, and the danger that brought to Duarte and anyone close to him since the program’s demise. To say nothing of Lisa’s current vulnerable state of distress and fatigue.
Except she didn’t feel distressed or fatigued in his arms.
She felt soft and pliant and willing.
No, she felt as raw and on-edge with need as he did.
She broke their kiss on a fevered moan and withdrew from the circle of his arms. Just far enough for her to lift the hem of her T-shirt.
Ah, Christ. She was killing him.
With her eyes rooted on his, she peeled off the dark shirt, baring her gorgeous breasts and the slender curves of her waist and hips.
Turned out she was wearing panties underneath. And fuck if simple white cotton bikinis had ever looked so goddamned hot.
She stepped back toward him, unrushed, heart-stoppingly gorgeous. The peaks of her bare nipples pressed into his chest. Then she kissed him again. Hungered. Insistent.
Leaving no room for doubt or his tarnished sense of honor.
There was no room for anything but the two of them.
And all the reasons he had for why he shouldn’t want this—for why he shouldn’t feel this undeniable need to be with her once more, let alone here and now—incinerated on the spot.
6
John Duarte kissed even better than she remembered.
He felt even better than she remembered. And although she was not the kind of woman to strip her clothes off in front of a man mere hours after arriving at his house in the middle of the night—unannounced and uninvited—Lisa couldn’t summon an ounce of shyness around him.
They’d already been down this road once before, so he was hardly a stranger. God knew he didn’t kiss like one. His tongue invaded her mouth with a possessive demand, and she opened to him, eager and hungry, as wildly turned on as he clearly was.
His hands roamed over her bare breasts before moving around to the column of her spine as his kiss deepened to a fevered pitch. Heat followed his palms as he traced them down
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