No More Mr. Nice - By Renee Roszel Page 0,50

was taken aback by his sardonic remark, and even more stunned when he joined her in the saddle and his body surrounded hers in a most intimate way. She grew flustered. “There’s not much room—is—is there…?”

With his hands about her waist, he shifted her onto his thighs. “Better?”

She was grateful he couldn’t see her face, which had gone cranberry red, she was sure. Clearing her throat, she rasped, “It’s—I’m fine ”

Taking the reins, he began to guide them back to where Snowflake and her bruised foot waited. Jess turned to look at the cabin once more as they rode away. Aloud, she wondered, “Who lives there, Lucas?”

He said nothing, just held her butted up against him, clenched between arms that expertly held the stallion’s reins. His scent invaded without warning in the chilly, early-evening air, filling her with an unruly desire to lean against his hard strength. Even more strongly, she felt a need to turn her head and meet his lips, which were bare inches from hers. Knowing no good could come of such a crazy act, she held herself stiffly away, resisting with every fiber of her being.

It took her a full minute of worrying about her rapid heartbeat, wondering if he could feel it—or even worse, hear it—to realize he’d never answered her question. “Lucas,” she began again in a whispery tone. “That house is on your property, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” he said, without further explanation.

“Well?” she prompted. “Who lives there?”

“That’s none of your business, Jess,” he warned softly. “Drop it.”

She was confused and irritated, not so much by his refusal to answer her, though that made her curious to know more, but because his breath was warm against her cheek. And his sturdy chest, bumping her every so often, was so inviting. His scent, which she was breathing now with every intake of air, was like an aphrodisiac. She recalled his kiss again in all its startling perfection, and closed her eyes, thrilling at the memory. Her mind began to float away in a sepia haze filled with sexy scents and passionate kisses, and she found herself losing the fight to resist.

No longer concerned that she was a weak fool, she gave in to her need, and tilted back against him, a tiny, still-functioning part of her brain praying she wouldn’t regret this lapse. But something else in her, an unexpected urgency, drove her as she relived, in her mind, how utterly sinfully the man kissed.

He was so disturbing, she shivered, dreaded, yet yearned to share something—everything—with this man….

As soon as she relaxed against him, she sensed a reticence in the sudden tensing of his body. But seconds later he shifted forward, his tongue caressing her ear. “What’s happening here?” he murmured.

She turned into his amorous overture and groaned, “Nothing…”

“Good,” he whispered, dipping his tongue provocatively, sending tingles of delight through her body. “Because we shouldn’t get involved.”

“I know.” She shifted closer, wanting to taste his lips again, driven by her willful craving. “I—know. We shouldn’t…”

He leaned forward, gathered her in his arms and held her snugly as he reclaimed her lips with a force that was blinding and beautiful. She moaned at the contact, struck again by the power of his kiss. It took away her will, making her his to do with as he pleased.

She clutched at his thighs, then hugged his arms even more tightly to her, frustrated that he was at her back. She wanted to press herself to him, wrap her legs around his hips, know the feeling of his erection as he entered her, making her writhe with the fulfillment she instinctively knew he could give. If his kiss was this staggering, leaving her lips burning, what must his lovemaking be like? Never had she felt such an exhilarating reaction to any man’s kiss. Intuition told her that Lucas Brand was her perfect mate—at least sexually. And that message was hard to ignore as his lips, teeth and tongue both thrilled and tormented her in his dizzying exploration.

Needing to be closer to him, she slid a leg up, hooking it around the saddle horn, and instinctively leaned farther back into his arms. He responded by crushing her to him, his demanding mouth plundering hers, his tongue working magic. And Jess, her body humming with want, gave back everything with a savage intensity she had never experienced in herself. It was as though she’d awakened from a long night into the electrifying stimulation of a spring storm. She was alive, her senses