Midnight Hero - By Diana Duncan Page 0,101

nothing wrong with your lips.” But she bestowed a kiss there, anyway.

“Mmm. I like your lips, too.” He slid his fingers into her hair and deepened the kiss, drinking in warm, willing woman and peppermint.

She caressed his shoulders, chest, then moved lower to his abs and stomach. He rolled to his back and let her explore. In spite of her lack of experience, she’d never been timid about touching him. Knowing her, she’d conducted meticulous research. His girl was thorough with every detail.

Hoo boy! He hissed in delight. Whatever books she’d been reading, he highly recommended them. His pulse kicked up and he fisted his hands. He wanted to pounce and devour her. Instead, he slowly released his breath. Forced himself to lie still. Don’t go all caveman and scare her. Go slow. Be careful.

The snap and sizzle of the flames faded as his world narrowed to only her. Her lovely face swam in his vision. Her uneven breathing sighed in his ears. Her intoxicating scent dizzied his senses. Heaven.

“I love your body.” She sighed, planting tiny kisses all over his chest. Her hair trailed over his torso, cool silk teasing his fevered skin. “So different from mine. All fascinating planes and angles. So strong, so hard.”

Con laughed. “Yeah, and getting harder by the minute.”

“I also love knowing I turn you on.” She grinned. “It makes me drunk with power.”

“You should be staggering, then.” He returned her grin. “By all means, have another round on me, darlin’.”

Bailey slid her palms up Con’s broad chest, reveling in his response. His body was a thrilling playground of contrasting sensation. Smooth, hot skin. Sinewy muscles. Crisp hair that tickled her fingertips. She kissed a meandering path from his ridged abs to his neck. His skin rippled under her touch, and his muscles bunched everywhere her lips touched. She nuzzled into his throat and inhaled his scent…fresh soap and warm, aroused man. Yum. She nibbled his earlobe, then blew softly into his ear.

He arched and groaned. The room spun, and without warning, she found herself on her back beneath him. His passion-dilated brown eyes danced. He grinned, white and wicked, and her stomach flip-flopped. “My turn to play.”

Embracing her with his gaze, he lowered his head, and their breaths met, mingled. Whisper-soft, his lips touched hers. He nibbled on her lower lip, kissed the corners of her mouth, the bow of her upper lip. Fleeting kisses, sweet with promise.

He moved closer, increasing the delicious contact. His tongue flirted with hers, withdrew. She sighed in disappointment. Twice more he enticed her with brief, unsatisfying forays until she emitted a frustrated moan. Immediately, he answered her need, cradling her head in his palm as his tongue glided inside her mouth. His taste rocketed through her, cinnamon and spice, dangerously arousing. Her body was alive with the taste of him, the scent of him.

His muscles taut with ruthless control, Con’s tongue stroked the inside of her mouth and dallied in intimate play. Slow and patient, his talented tongue teased and coaxed.

Desire built, need grew, and she gripped his shoulders. His body heat radiated through the thin fabric of her gown and his heartbeat slammed against hers. She drank in his potent, intoxicating kisses, craving more. So much more. Her breasts tingled, tight with need, and she rubbed against the hard planes of his chest. He groaned into her mouth.

Panting, he broke the kiss and eased back. “You’re shaking,” he whispered.

“So are you.”

“Nerves?” he asked, his expression gentle.

“Passion,” she breathed. “You?”

“Same here. Passion.” He chuckled, a low rumble in his chest that vibrated inside her. “The word is hardly adequate to describe what I’m feeling. Whew!” He exhaled and rubbed his hand over his hair. “Before I lose all ability to think, I need my coat.” He leaned over and tugged his leather jacket off the chair.

“What?” Confused, she shook her head. “I never figured you for the shy type. A bit late for an attack of modesty, don’t you think?”

He laughed. “Baby, I’ve got condoms in the pocket.”

She arched her brows. “Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

“I’d hoped.” He dumped a handful of bright gold wrappers on the bed. “So I came prepared.”

“Holy cow.” She goggled at the stack. “I guess so!”

His mischievous grin flashed. “Hope we don’t run out before the storm is over.”

“I dunno. I’ve got quite a list of activities for later.”

“And ‘later’ just arrived.” He kissed her, long and lingeringly. “Now that’s a ‘honey-do’ list I can get into.”

“Your honey appreciates your enthusiasm.”