High Noon Page 0,91

dress."

"Thanks." It might have been something she often hauled out for PTA meetings, but at the moment the simple cotton felt pretty perfect. "You've had a busy day."

"It's all relative." He held out a hand to take hers, to bring her inside.

She didn't see it coming. So much, she'd think later, for instinctscop or woman. But right at that moment, with her back up against the door and his mouth hot on hers, thinking wasn't part of the equation. She might've put her hands on his shoulders in a gesture of whoa there, wait a minute pal, but they slid right up until her arms were locked around his neck.

And waiting was done.

His hands dove into her hair, skimmed over her shoulders, molded down her body with such purpose and skill that any idea ofwhoa went straight out the window, and kept on flying.

Sensible Phoebe didn't have a prayer.

He smelted so good, and felt even better-hard and tough and male. With her mouth under assault and her blood flashing from comfortably warm to desperately hot, her body ruled the moment.

He might have stopped-if she'd pulled out a gun and held it to his head, he might've stopped. But he heard, in some dim part of his brain, her purse hit the floor with a single hard thump.

Then she locked around him, those strong bare arms, and her teeth nipped and gnawed on his bottom lip. She moaned; she quivered. And her scent seemed to rise from light, teasing invitation to will-snapping opiate.

He slid her dress up, up, up those gorgeous legs, ran his hand over warm flesh, over the thin lacy bit that covered her. Under it.

Not warm here, but hot. Hot and wet and open. Her hips pumped, pressed, and she came on a low, feral groan that shot straight to his belly. Her fingers dug in, a hard bite on his shoulders.

Then they were pushing between their bodies, tugging at the button of his fly.

Now, now, now. Right this minute. Oh God! She didn't know if she said it out loud or just thought it. The sensations careening inside her flew too fast, too high for any kind of resisrance, any hope of sanity. She wasn't entirely sure she could survive another ten seconds if he wasn't inside her.

And when he was, when he drove into her, she didn't give a damn about survival.

Fast, right on the edge of violent, thrust after thrust. It filled up places she'd forgotten had been empty, fired up places she'd forgotten had gone cool. It was an onslaught, and thank God for it.

Nothing strapped down now, nothing sensible. He had her arms over her head, wrists cuffed with his hand, her skirt hiked to her waist.

He battered her against the front door until the orgasm simply shredded her to pieces.

And with his own release his breath was ragged in her ear. He braced her against the door. She realized when her head cleared a little it was as much to keep his own balance as to hold her up.

"Thanks," she managed.

"It was at least fifty percent my pleasure."

When she wheezed out a laugh, he eased back, studying her face as he brushed her hair aside. "I had a different order of business in mind. Initially."

She could nearly focus again, and oh God, she loved the color of his eyes. "Order of business."

"You know, a couple of adult beverages on the veranda, or walking around the gardens. Some dinner with conversation. Then I realized I'd just be thinking about sex through all that, which would spoil my appetite." He ran a hand up her leg as he spoke, had her quivering once more.

And gently smoothed her skirts back into place. "That's one thing," he continued, "but I believed you might very well be in the same frame of mind. Here I'd be having you over for dinner and spoiling your appetite. That's no way to treat a guest."

"I see. So am I to understand we just had at each other against your front door because you didn't want to be rude?"

He grinned at her. "Absolutely. Only reason. Steady yet?"

"I think so."

He stepped back, glanced down. Bending he picked up her ripped panties. He said, "Oops."

She laughed. "I don't know why I bothered to put on good underwear."

"They were momentarily appreciated. I could lend you a pair of boxers."

"I'll pass on that, thanks all the same. I'll just use the bathroom for a minute."

"Yeah, sure. Listen, Phoebe... " Absently he stuffed the torn panties