Shattered Heart: The Donnellys, Book 3 by Dorothy F. Shaw Read Free Book Online Page B

the floor with her, his hand pressed tight to her lower back, her full breasts pressed even tighter to his lower chest. Even with the significant difference in their height, she fit against him perfectly. He drew in a deep breath and her sweet scent wound its way into his lungs, making him dizzy with desire.
    He gazed down at her. Shit, bad idea. The swell of her cleavage above her low-cut silver top was a target for his eyes. Another dangerous temptation. His dick thought it was a great idea, thickening further behind his zipper. He turned her, keeping her tight against him, and her brown eyes sparkled from the lights in the club and what he hoped was excitement, and then she licked her lips again.
    It took everything he had in him, but he jerked his eyes away from her mouth. “Cyn, you keep licking those fine lips of yours and I’m going to end up kissing you.”
    She arched a brow and grinned, a devious glint in her pretty brown eyes. Yep, screwed. Fuck!
    Cyn’s body tingled from head to toe as Shane danced her, slow and easy, around the dance floor. He wanted to kiss her. Which was bad—very bad, because she desperately wanted to be kissed. With his big body pressed against hers, she let herself pretend, if only for a few minutes while the music played, that there was no Carlos, no horrible track record because of her broken picker and, for fuck’s sake, no self-imposed moratorium.
    Before she’d run into him—literally—she’d been half-drunk. Maybe whole-drunk was more accurate. But now she felt stone-cold sober. Sober enough she was unable to deny that the man, who smelled better than chocolate ice cream, had been her unattainable dream. The one forever in the “what if” category. The very one that she swore, if she ever got the chance—the freaking opportunity, she’d take it. In a hot second. And now he wanted to kiss her.
    What the hell was she thinking? This was Shane-fucking-Conlon! She was taking her goddamn chance; it was likely the only one she’d get. Cyn licked her lips again and he groaned. A thrill raced through her and lust pooled in her stomach. “What if I want you to kiss me?”
    “I’d say you’ve been drinking.” He turned them.
    “So have you.” She ran a fingertip down the side of his neck.
    “You’re playing with fire.” He gazed down at her with his lips pressed tight together, and the muscles in his jaw twitched.
    “Nobody has to know. More specifically, Joey doesn’t have to know.”
    He sighed through his nose and his hand on her lower back slipped around her waist and gripped her tight. “Killing me.”
    “I’d rather be kissing you.”
    He steered them off the dance floor, and walked Cyn to a far corner of the bar, turned her and backed her against a wall. “You think that’d be enough?”
    The cool panel of the wall against Cyn’s back sent a chill racing over her skin. Shane dropped her hand and framed her waist in his big palms. He was so much taller than her, and built like a truck—towering over Cyn, blocking out everything around her. Cyn gazed up at him as she ran her hands up his muscled chest and over his broad shoulders. With a slight grin arching one corner of her lips, she tiptoed up and circled the back of his neck with her palms, tickling the edge of his close-cut hair with her fingertips.
    Their lips were only a breath away, their bodies pressed tight together. He was hard; she felt the line of his cock against her stomach like a brand on her skin. “Do it, Shane. Kiss me.”
    “It’s not going to be enough.” He grazed his lips over hers.
    It was a bare whisper of a touch, nothing more, but filled with so much heat Cyn’s entire body ached for him—for more. “Do it.”
    “Cyn—”
    Screw it. Cyn gripped the back of his neck and jerked him to her lips. His mouth came down over hers and his warm tongue swept inside, and—oh, sweet baby Jesus—he was right. Cyn arched against him and Shane’s grip tightened on her hips, pulling her