Shame the Devil (Portland Devils #3) - Rosalind James Page 0,147

for the pleasure of it. She might have an outsized responsibility gene and a work ethic carved from stone, but inside, she was something entirely different. A woman born for pleasure. A woman made for sin.

He wanted two things at once. Something primal in him, something all the way in the back of his brain, wanted to put his hand on that pretty swell of belly and feel the curve of it for himself. It didn’t matter that he’d never have chosen for it to happen. It didn’t matter that it was complicating his life so badly that he couldn’t see to the end. He wanted it anyway. He wanted to feel that belly for himself, and he wanted to kiss it, too. He wanted to know all the way inside himself that his baby was growing in her, and that she was right there where he could take care of both of them. Under his hand. It wasn’t a very evolved thought, but there you were. It seemed he wasn’t a very evolved guy.

And then there was the other thing. That he wanted his hands and mouth all over her in some way that was more than primal. Some way that was nearly feral. He wanted her tumbled across his bed, her hair around her face, her hands over her head, like all she wanted was for him to kiss her and love her right. He wanted her to straddle him again and pull her dress over her head, and he wanted to watch her ride him, slow and sweet and exactly the way she wanted to, the way that felt best, while he watched her move, pulled her down so he could play with her better, and got his hand on that little ring and ground it into her until she moaned. He wanted to feel her come around him until he couldn’t stand it anymore. And then he wanted to hold her hips and pump into her until she arched her back and called out and came again, jerking and shuddering over him until his eyes rolled back in his head and he lost his mind.

Right now, though, all he got to do was swim. And be friends.

He was taking her out to dinner, though, and he was going to make sure they seated him in the darkest corner of the restaurant. He was going to hold her hand across the table, and he was going to look into those gold eyes and see if he could make her pretty mouth tremble a little more. If he could make her breath come faster.

If he could make her want him the way he wanted her. Which he wasn’t supposed to try to do, because he’d mess up her life.

He wanted to do the right thing. It was just that he wanted to do every single one of those wrong things so much more. Over and over again. Every way there was.

Face it. He was doomed.

46

Dating

She was having such a hard time.

They weren’t doing anything all that extreme. They weren’t even at the resort, with the knowledge of those dangerously convenient hotel rooms right overhead. Harlan had said, when they’d been sitting on two of those loungers, toweling off after their swim, “How about if I take you someplace else tonight? Someplace with no possible Dyma and Annabelle, and that doesn’t belong to Blake Orbison, where it’s just you and me. Seems like we don’t get the chance too often.”

“Nothing can happen between us,” she’d said. “I’m still … well, my head’s still sure of that.” Even as every single inch of her tingled with awareness that she was still in her bikini, toweling off her hair, that he could look right down the front of that bikini, and that his body was still the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. Including in paintings. He was it. Chest. Thighs. Arms. Shoulders. Skin so golden, it glowed, and body language that said, “I’m strong enough to be in charge of all of this, and confident enough not to push it.” And maybe most of all, the look in his eyes when he talked to her. Focused. Intense. Almost … possessive. However casually he talked, he still looked at her that way. Also, the fact that he wasn’t looking down her bikini, which was worse than if he had been. He was restraining himself, and his restraint thrilled her.

“Know what I want to happen?” he asked.

“Uh …” She looked at him