Somehow he managed to tear his lips away from hers. Her skin—he had to taste it. He brushed his lips over the pale flesh of her throat, latching on for a gentle nip, a lick. He groaned, savoring her. Her scent was something light, with a hint of cloves and spice. The texture of her skin was so silken it was almost powdery. Definitely delicate and pure. She burned easily in the sun. He’d heard her talk about it before and had laughed at her fragility. He’d usually dated outdoorsy girls. But now? They’d probably feel like leather. Em was a delectable, velvety treat. And if her neck was this soft, he could only imagine what he’d find between her br**sts, across her stomach, on the insides of her thighs.
The thought made him harder than he could ever remember being in his life.
“Brandon,” she breathed, clutching him tighter.
“Em, baby. God, you feel so good. You taste…” He captured her mouth again. He had no words to describe how unique and perfect her flavor was to him.
She welcomed every touch he gave her and shoved his suit coat off his shoulders, down his arms. Hugo Boss puddled at his feet behind him, and considering what he’d paid for this suit, he should care. He didn’t. If her ripping out the zipper of these slacks would get him inside her faster, he was totally in favor.
He yanked her coat off, then went for the pins holding her golden tresses up at her nape. He tugged gently, sliding clips out. The strands fell apart to reveal soft waves that he wrapped in his fingers, anchoring her against him, just as he would when he got deep inside her and pumped her to orgasm.
Jesus, she hadn’t said yes. She might push him away. If she did, he’d seduce, caress, beg—whatever it took. He craved her under him right now, taking him. He felt desperate to fill her with his cock.
Except…she’d left him today without a single word.
Too often, he dated damsels in distress, like he unconsciously sought someone to rescue. He and his half-sister Morgan had talked about the fact that he needed to stop chasing people who were f**ked up. They always used him for cheap therapy, then tore his heart out when they left. Like Kayla. But if Em said yes now, it would be because she wanted him, not because she needed rescuing. She was one of the most grounded, genuine people he knew.
Em couldn’t leave him now. No way. Not happening. He’d tasted her—and he was nowhere near done.
Finally, he peeled her jacket away and tossed it over the bar beside her. He tore into the shapeless blue blouse beneath her gray coat. He half-feared some resistance, but no. She pressed another kiss to his lips, then wrapped her fingers around the buttons of his shirt and unfastened them, one by one. He was all kinds of distracted by all the cle**age he exposed above that lacy, uber-sheer contraption she called a bra. Fuck, he could see her tight, pink ni**les. And he could barely breathe.
When Em’s small hands prowled across his bare chest, over every muscle and ridge, lighting up his skin more effectively than a hundred strings of Christmas lights on a tree, he lost patience and ripped the rest of her blouse away. Buttons popped off, flying everywhere. Silk shredded with an almost sexual roar that fired his blood hotter.
Em gasped as he dragged her shirt off and clasped her br**sts in his palms. “Fuck, these are pretty. Em… God, I want these. I want you.”
He couldn’t wait to have her bra off. It clasped in the back, and he pulled at it with one hand while he nipped and sucked at her through the sheer cups.
Em gripped his hair, clasping him against her, and groaned a soft “yes.”
One little word, and he became a freight train without brakes. She wanted him, and nothing was going to stop him from having her. In that moment, Brandon was damn glad, especially when the clasp of her bra gave way beneath his fingers and the little garment fell to the floor…
She was disintegrating. That’s all Em could think as she opened beneath the dominating power of Brandon’s kiss. He tasted like everything she’d imagined he would. Clean, strong, masculine, powerful. He didn’t just part her lips with his; he plowed past her defenses and melted her resistance, her inhibition, her thoughts.
Sighing into his mouth, Em gave herself over to him completely.
She’d been in love with Brandon Ross from almost day one. When they’d first met, she’d seen a flare of attraction in his blue eyes. God, he’d only had to look at her, and she’d blushed thinking about all the heady, sexual things she wanted to do with him. But he’d quickly replaced that flicker of awareness with a professional mask. Together, they’d done a lot of good for the city’s first responders, and she was proud of that. They’d also gotten to know one another. With every conversation and revelation, she’d only fallen deeper for her loyal but very sexy boss.
Then, a few months later, the Emergency Services taskforce team members had gone for happy hour following some victories with the city budget planners. Everyone had imbibed a drink or two, then left. She’d been alone with Brandon. After a few beers, he’d told her that he’d been in love with a former buddy’s ex-wife for a few years.
Brandon’s lack of interest in any other woman had made sense then. And it had broken Em’s heart. But she’d lived with it, hoping that someday…
But someday had never come. Instead, after three years, his flame, Kayla, came to see him last Friday afternoon. When they’d left together in deep conversation, standing intimately close and looking beautiful together, it had crushed the last of Em’s hope.
But now, Brandon wasn’t kissing her like a man in love with someone else. His tongue curled around hers, tangling hotly. His hands clasped her face, holding her still so he could dive even deeper. He pressed his bare chest to hers like he wanted to meld into one body, like he found any separation between them unacceptable. Em couldn’t agree more.
If she had any chance to have even a few hours with Brandon, she’d take it with both hands. It probably sounded pathetic, but she was past caring. This man had been the center of her fantasies and dreams for three years. She wasn’t giving him up until he walked away.
Brandon ripped his mouth from her and stared down into her eyes. His wide, muscled chest rose and fell with every breath, but the electric connection of their gazes never wavered. Silently, he was asking what the hell was happening between them. She didn’t want him to question, just kiss her again, take off the rest of her clothes, and make her his—even if it was only for a moment.
“Please…” she begged.
His eyes darkened. “I’ve got to have you, Em. Baby…”
She gave him a jerky nod, then stood on her tiptoes to kiss him.
He opened to her searching lips, then took control. The dark way he dominated her mouth made her shiver, especially when he thumbed her ni**les, ripping fire through her. She gasped into his kiss and gripped his shoulders like she’d never let go.
With a last nip at her lower lip, he broke away and went straight for her br**sts. He took her nipple into the hot cavern of his mouth and sucked hard. The sensation zipped a tingling path down to her pu**y. Already, she could tell how wet she was. Her little panties were clinging damply to her flesh. And she ached so badly to have him filling her there.