An Offer He Cant Refuse - By Christie Ridgway Page 0,61

slick fabric of her fastened-to-the-collarbone dress chafing his bare skin. Needing her flesh against his, Johnny curled his fingers over the neckline and yanked.

Snaps pulled free with an audible rip. Tea gasped.

Johnny froze.

The scene hit him like a slap. The bed was stripped, the covers and pillows in a drunken heap on the floor. He was sprawled on it, sprawled over Tea, naked and breathing like a racehorse. She was looking up at him with her dark cat eyes wide. There was beard burn on her chin and across her neck and he saw heaving cleavage between the edges of her dress he'd just ripped halfway to her navel.

Where was smooth Johnny Magee? She probably considered the one on top of her a madman. He should lift himself away and give her more air, if not a chance to escape.

Neither thought made him move, however, not when he wasn't done with her yet. Not when just thinking about not being skin-to-skin drew the ghosts closer to their safe oasis. Even now he could feel their cold breath blowing across the bare skin of his back.

He was a mess, God knows he was aware of that, but it was Tea who - no, sex that would pull him together again. He couldn't think about all the whys they shouldn't be doing this. Because it was sex that would evaporate the memories, eradicate the ghosts, and hold him in the moment. Sex that would bring the ol' you-only-like-shallow-relationships Johnny back.

He needed her - it. He needed it bad.

But he wouldn't go sex-monster on her again. Instead he'd be the slow and gentle lover that experience had taught him would make it good for Tea too.

Taking in a long breath, he set out to soothe, drawing the backs of his fingers down her cheek then brushing his knuckles back and forth across her swollen bottom lip.

She closed her eyes. "Johnny - "

"Shh. Quiet," he said, still rubbing against her bottom lip. "You'll like this, I promise."

I need this. Bad.

He leaned forward and replaced his fingers with his mouth, grazing hers with the lightest, softest strokes. She trembled and he smiled to himself, then slicked his tongue against that same puffy lip.

She trembled again and a burst of need sped through him like a bullet. But Johnny refused to let it drive him. Gentle, he told himself. Slow and gentle. Bending closer, he pressed a series of featherweight kisses against her mouth.

Her hands came up to his shoulders. "Yes," he murmured against her mouth. 'Touch me."

Her palms caressed his skin, sliding down his spine.

On the other side of his body, his cock twitched against his belly as if trying to get closer to her touch. But he reminded himself he was a man of style, not speed, and laid another sweet seductive kiss on her.

She moaned, her fingernails biting into his skin.

His cock jumped. His temperature spiked. "Easy," he murmured against her mouth, curling his fingers into fists on either side of her body. "Easy."

Her head swished against the sheet and the ends of her long hair slid across the backs of his hands. He tangled them in the stuff to hold her still and took the kiss just a little deeper.

Tea bit his tongue.

Heat shot up his back. Without his permission, one of his hands shifted, closing over one of her breasts.

They both groaned.

Finesse, Johnny, he reminded himself desperately. Don't forget finesse. But the bra she was wearing was some stiff cage of a thing that didn't come close to giving up what he wanted. What he had to have.

He yanked the sides of her dress apart, spotted the front clasp of her bra, tripped the damn mechanism and then, God - oh my God - her bare breasts spilled into his hands.

A man with his kind of polish and years of experience shouldn't have been stunned. A man who'd lived in Las Vegas for the last decade had seen hooters aplenty, after all. But Johnny could only stare at the most beautiful, absolutely perfect, how-the-hell-did-she-hide-them-away? pair of knockers he'd ever seen in his life. The tennis dress she'd worn on Friday night had not done them justice either. Only nakedness perfectly suited these beauties.

That speeding bullet of desire shot through his nervous system again as he tried to hold them in his hands. They overflowed his palms, their warm weight soft and fragrant. Her aureoles were a dusky pink that turned to raspberry as he ran his thumbs over her nipples. His