The Prelude (A Musical Interlude Novel) - By Kasonndra Leigh Page 0,45

of things for a while?”

The dazzling half-smile I receive in return for my answer pushes me over the edge.

“I think a woman who takes charge is incredibly irresistible,” he mutters. His mouth is so very close to mine. I turned away from him the other day. Yeah, I know, that was a pretty harsh thing for me to do; but I’ve never been considered easy. Something tells me Alek is the type of man who appreciates something like that.

“It could be this way for us all of the time,” he says, teasing my lips by moving his closer to mine. He glances back at the canvas. I’ve forgotten all about the painting. Are you kidding me? I have a Russian god sitting here cradling my body. The last thing on my mind is a logo that has been too hard to pin down in a design.

He’s not going to kiss me again, though, and it's my own fault. Feeling a bit rejected, I make an attempt at a distraction. “What do you mean by we could do this all of the time?”

Crap! I’m gasping. No, I’m panting. Control, Erin!

“I’m saying we agree to pleasure each other. No strings. No slippery emotions. Just two sexually attracted people drowning out the world’s troubles by having a lot of sex.”

“Are you asking me to swing with you?”

“No. I’m done with that,” he answers. He looks directly in my eyes when he says this. Call me crazy, but I believe him.

“You don’t have to kiss me. I know you don’t like that. But I can make you feel like a woman without even touching these lips.” He caresses my mouth with the pad of his thumb, the only part of his hands not covered in paint.

“Do you accept my proposal?” he whispers furiously, his half-lidded gaze bearing into my soul. “Can you handle me, Erin?”

“You’re easy pickings. Give me your best shot, Maestro,” I gasp out. And he does. Remind me to think twice before I go tempting a man who’s used to leading hundreds of bickering musicians in front of a crowd of thousands on a regular basis.

First, he nibbles my ear. Okay, that’s an easy target, but the perfect one. Quivers tingle inside my breasts. My nipples harden, and I’m seriously hating that I just can't let myself enjoy at least one stolen moment of pleasure with him.

His hand slides around in front of me. The paintbrush we held on to together falls from our entwined hands, making a colorful mess. Still holding on to mine, he moves his hands across my thighs, easing them dangerously close to the sweet spot between my legs, but stopping just before he reaches it. I don’t even mind the paint he’s smeared across my skin. The sight of red paint on my thighs and the chants coming from the Enigma song still playing on my stereo along with the raw scent of male in Alek’s cologne sends me spiraling into a place I haven’t visited in years.

“Do you see how just the right strokes gets the best response of all?” he whispers against my ear, his tongue playfully flicking over the outside edges and around the inside of it too. His hands ease dangerously closer to my hot spot. If he touches me there, then every single resolve I’ve ever made will go a flying off the balcony.

I should stop this.

Hell no, you won’t!

Holy Moly this man is good with his tongue.

And he knows it too. The word yes sits on the tip of my tongue. The world around us rises and then falls at once as the sound of feet shuffles to a stop.

“Oh, whoopsie!” Adriana’s voice calls out from behind us. I move my head around, glance into Alek’s eyes, and watch the mystery of the moment we just shared slowly ease its way out from inside them. At least I have a complete logo now.

We both turn our heads toward Adriana. She has the widest eyes I’ve ever seen on a human being. She stands in the doorway to the balcony as though she’s glued to that spot. Alek eases out from behind me, stands up, and heads over to where his sister stands.

She mouths the words, “I’m sorry.”

“No worries.” He turns back to me, a wicked gleam still swims in his eyes. “Don’t keep me waiting too long for the answer to my proposal, Erin. There’s only so much rejection any man can handle before he cracks. Good luck Friday night.”

“I’ll

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