The Innocent: FBI Psychics, Book 2
Page 15
His thumbs brushed across my nipples, and I gasped as pleasure streaked through me, then his hands were moving, sliding beneath my blouse. He spanned my waist, fingers ducking beneath my waistband for a scant, teasing second before they drifted up to my breasts again.
I stopped breathing as his palms covered me and his mouth dropped to my nape, delivering tiny little nips that made me quiver, head to toe.
“The things I want to do to you aren’t legal in most states,” he breathed in my ear, his voice low, guttural. Completely, over-the-top sexy.
My body stiffened in reaction. In anticipation. No aura to overwhelm me, no reading what my partner was feeling in his gaze. This was going to be so good.
I spun in his arms and met his eyes, which had gone turbulent. “Yeah? I could say the same.” I grasped his hand, leading him to my bedroom.
It was the one room in my house he hadn’t seen, and I was proud of it, even if my brain was clouded by a desire so strong I was amazed I could see at all. It reflected the hidden me, decorated in scarlet and sage, eye-popping royal blue and creamy taupe. Since I’d come to Dallas, no other man had seen it; every other sexual liaison had been in neutral territory.
Would he even notice? Why the hell did I care?
But notice he did, standing stock-still in the doorway, his hands settling on my waist, pulling me back against him once again. “This is the real you, isn’t it?” He leaned in to lave my ear, sending thrills through my entire body. “It’s beautiful, just like you are. I imagine what you see when you look at the world. But know how I see you. You’re vibrant, a nexus of the colors that defies anything I could describe.” His hand rested possessively on my belly and his voice had gone gravelly. “And when you come, I imagine the expression on your face because I know you’ll be coming for me.”
He spun me around to face him, and the look on his face was anything but easy. It was predatory and utterly male. “Now strip. I want to see you naked.”
My breath clogged in my lungs at his audacity and how much it turned me on. How could he possibly know, I marveled, even as my body overruled rational thought. I’m a take-charge kind of girl when it comes to everything else, but in the bedroom, I want a man to lead, and somehow, some way, he’d intuited that. It’d taken me years to figure it out myself, yet he knew exactly how to play me in seconds. That knowledge made me impossibly hotter, wetter.
I locked gazes with him. Everything he made me feel was ours alone. No bombarding emotions, no aura to cloud my response, to anticipate his. My fingers shook as I pulled my blouse over my head, then loosened the clip at my nape.
He stood mere inches from me, eyes blazing as he watched each and every move I made.
My heart banged against my ribs. I stood in my bra and slacks, hair brushing against my shoulders, while he remained fully clothed, inspecting me.
“You’re even better than I imagined,” he breathed.
What he’d pictured, I couldn’t possibly conceive of until he began seducing me with his words. Not that he needed to.
“You’re lusher than I thought. You hide behind baggy T-shirts too often.” His hands settled on my hips. “You’re meant for tasting, for savoring all night long.” He dipped his head to my breasts. “But you don’t know that, do you, Sara?”
Any reply I might have made was completely annihilated by the sensation of his tongue on my lace-covered nipples. Instead I moaned. Not in surrender, but agreement.
His tongue flicked from one breast to another, his hands tightening against my hips until I was flush against him. He bowed me back as he loved my breasts, cradling me against his erection, rocking me gently until I thought I’d go insane. I began to fall into sensation and reached out blindly for something, anything to hold onto.
“Shhhh,” he murmured, his breath warm and hot against my breast. “I’ve got you, Sara. Remember that.” Then he was lifting me, settling me on the bed, his mouth still teasing my nipple even as his hands deftly unfastened my slacks, sliding them to the floor along with my panties.
His clever fingers teased my mons with feather-light touches as the pressure of his mouth increased and he applied his teeth. I jolted upward, into him, and felt him laugh against me.
“I knew you’d be like this, you know.” His voice was rough, needy, even though he was in complete control.
One big palm closed over my breast and squeezed as he dropped to his knees, his breath wafting in tiny little gusts along the inside of my thighs. His mouth covered me, tongue teasing me as one finger slid inside, then two, pumping in time to the delicious motion of his tongue.
I moaned, bowing on the bed as I grasped the bedspread in both fists as he devoured me. Pure, blinding fire flashed through me, setting every nerve ending ablaze, and I toppled.
Tender fingers unlatched my front-hook bra, and I jerked as his knuckles brushed across my nipples. Over the pounding of my heart and the rush in my head, I barely heard the rasp of his zipper, the crinkle of cellophane.
Then he was covering me, his mouth hot on mine, his big, wicked hands tilting my hips, and in one sleek move, he was inside me, sheathed to the hilt.
The Innocent
Shiloh Walker
For a woman he can’t touch, he’ll turn Hell inside out.
FBI Psychics, Book 2
There’s only one reason Jay Roberts would set foot in a middle-of-nowhere town like Hell, Georgia. She’s got a bone to pick with her sort-of boyfriend. They only met online, but things got hot and heavy before their cyber link went silent.
She’s here to get in his face for an explanation. But no touching. Her psychic abilities make physical contact…complicated. Yet something about this relationship made her think things would be different. She’s not in Hell twenty minutes before bad vibes have her skin crawling.
Corruption has stained the very fabric of Linc Dawson’s town, and now it’s stolen something very dear to him. The last thing he has time for is nursing Jay’s broken heart.
But Jay isn’t going anywhere. Not only because she’s not giving up on him, because she’s got access to the kind of backup nobody wants on their bad side. And Linc discovers the woman who’s afraid to touch him could actually be his best chance. At salvation, at hope, at life. Maybe even love…
Warning: This book contains a not-so-naive virgin, a pissed-off former cop, lots of frustration, if you know what I mean, and more trouble than either of them know what to do with.
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B
Cincinnati OH 45249
The Innocent
Copyright © 2014 by Shiloh Walker
ISBN: 978-1-61922-077-5
Edited by Tera Kleinfelter
Cover by Angela Waters
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: March 2014
www.samhainpublishing.com
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