Lucky 7 Bad Boys Contemporary Romance Boxed Set

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Lucky 7 Bad Boys Contemporary Romance Boxed Set Page 52

by Pineiro, Charity


  Ho-boy.

  She squeezed her eyes shut. She had to stop thinking like this.

  Suddenly, she felt warm breath in her hair. She started, her eyes flying open. He stood right behind her.

  "May I?" His fingers brushed hers as he reached around and eased the pad from her hand, sending a shower of awareness over her.

  She nodded, not daring to move, fearing she would accidentally touch him again.

  She couldn't understand this outrageous attraction she was feeling. The sudden heat flowing through her body must be an overreaction to being out of David's chilly embraces. The delicious thrill of being so close to this warrior was surely a primal response to the knowledge that the only barriers between them were those she herself placed there. It was a heady feeling.

  He came around to stand next to her, flipping through her drawings. "These are very good. But why my lodge?"

  She met his searching look. "It's so pretty. And I promised Kenny lots of details."

  A thundercloud seemed to pass through the warrior's black eyes. He lifted a brow. "Kenny?"

  She glanced down at her pencil. "My nine-year-old nephew." When the corner of his mouth twitched, she added, "Boy Scout project."

  He nodded, and turned to the page she'd been working on. After a moment he pointed. "You've got these fasteners wrong."

  She frowned and took the pad from him. "Let me see." She compared the drawing to the door and saw he was right. She pushed a damp lock off her forehead. Mercy, it was getting awfully warm in here.

  He strolled to the door, pulled the flaps together and began lacing two long leather strips around the bone fasteners that were sewn along the edges. He shot her a sultry glance. "The view might be better when the door's properly closed."

  Her heart skipped a beat.

  In a few seconds it was laced up as tight as a sneaker before a marathon. "See how it works? Now it's impossible to get in from the outside."

  He sat on his haunches and slowly looped the ends of the ties through two holes in the doorsill, and pulled them tight. He regarded her from behind his painted mask. "Anything else you'd like a closer look at?"

  "I, uh…" Oh, lord. Her pulse whipped into double-time. So tempting...

  His brow lifted.

  "I, um…" Her gaze dipped involuntarily from his sensual lips to his throat, and slid along the narrow band of naked, bronze flesh running the entire side of his body down to his moccasins. Trying in vain to ignore the thundering of her heart, she bit her lip.

  In a fluid movement he rose to his feet.

  She was backing herself into a corner, and she knew it. But for the life of her, she suddenly couldn't think of a single reason why she should deflect what was happening between them. She was still raw from David's rejection of her as a woman. It felt good to flirt with this man, to reconfirm that she was pretty and desirable. And if it went a little further than flirting, well, she was a big girl. She knew how to say no if she had to.

  It was her choice.

  He moved behind her and, circling his arms around her body, grasped the pad of paper in one hand and with the other guided the pencil in her shaking fingers to correct her mistake. "You just tell me what you'd like a closer look at, and I'll see what I can do."

  Her head spun and her bones turned to liquid. "I've"—she cleared her throat again—"I've never done anything like this before," she murmured, half believing he was still talking about drawing tepees. Her sleeve slipped off her shoulder and she reached to pull it up. "I think I—

  "Don't think, Fire Eyes." He caught her hand and brought it down to her side, leaving the sleeve where it was. "Just feel. If it stops feeling good, tell me no."

  She swallowed, forgetting all about tepees, lodges, and everything else except the provocative man who was making her come dangerously unglued. She could feel the erotic hardness of his body. His quill chest plate pressed against her spine, his solid thighs caressed her bottom. His growing arousal nestled provocatively at the small of her back. She closed her eyes. It felt good.

  Lord above, it felt good all over.

  "All right," she whispered, knowing she shouldn't.

  Says who?

  He slipped the paper and pencil from her fingers and softly kissed her temple. "Are we done drawing pictures?"

  She just couldn't resist. She tilted her face and rubbed her cheek lightly over his lips. He felt amazing. Her sketch pad hit the floor with a dull thud and his hands were on her arms, pulling her back against his chest. His mouth traced over her cheekbone and up to her eyebrow, giving her small kisses, licking her with the tip of his tongue. She felt her other sleeve drop, then his hands were on her bare shoulders, massaging, caressing.

  She reached backward, grasping for purchase, and found his bare, muscular thighs. A small whimper escaped her throat. His erection flared, and he gave an answering groan. His fingers slid down her arms, splayed over her waist, and his thumbs began counting her ribs with lazy strokes until they grazed the undersides of her breasts.

  His breath was quick and hot in her ear. "Still feeling good?"

  She dug her fingers into his thighs. "Yes." Her voice was breathy and deep, as unrecognizable as her behavior. What was she doing?

  His hands cupped her breasts and squeezed. A shock of sensation hit her like a wall of fire. His fingers rubbed circles around the quickening tips, and a blazing trail of desire streaked straight through to her center. His mouth caressed her with hot kisses, working around her ear, biting the sensitive lobe as he pinched the tight buds of her breasts through her dress. She gasped out loud at the erotic sting.

  He froze. "Shall I stop?"

  She closed her eyes and allowed her head to fall back against his shoulder. She couldn't ever remember feeling this good, this aroused, this vibrantly sexy. She knew she should tell this tempting stranger to stop, to unlace the door, and then she should run like hell. It wasn't her, this wanton woman in his arms. But she couldn't make herself do it. Not for anything.

  She wanted this. She wanted to experience these wonderful sensations she had been denied for a lifetime. To feel emotions that, for so long, she had thought herself incapable of feeling.

  Bringing her hands up, she placed them over his where they lay on her breasts. "God, no. Please don't stop."

  * * *

  Cole swallowed, feeling the cords of his neck contract against his Fire Eyes' temple. For a moment he just stood there, listening to the sounds of his own pounding heart and the rapid breathing of the beautiful woman in his arms. Half expecting her to come to her senses and run away.

  Instead, she hesitantly moved her fingers and unbuttoned the top button of her dress. Then lifted his hand and placed his fingers on the second button.

  He couldn't believe the delightful, innocent way this woman was inviting him to touch her. Where before he had been eager enough to drag her to the floor by the hair and ravish her, he now wanted to woo her senses, to introduce her body to delights she'd never before experienced. To bind her to him with lovemaking so unforgettable she'd never want to leave him.

  He'd never reacted to a woman this powerfully before. To want her so instantly, and so badly. It scared him and aroused him all at the same time.

  He slowly unfastened two more buttons.

  Turning her in his arms, he looked into her eyes, surprised to see fear and uncertainty as she looked back at him. "It's all right," he said quietly. "I won't hurt you, I swear. Tell me to stop anytime."

  Lowering his mouth to hers, he pulled her close and kissed her tenderly. Her arms went around his neck and she sighed against his lips. He slipped his hand behind her head and held her, pressing his mouth over hers, teasing it with his tongue. When she opened to him, he groaned, sinking into her moist, velvety depths, losing himself in the taste of her. She was wonderful. Sweet and innocent, and everything he hadn't known he'd been looking for all his life. His heart stuttered at the thought, then raced at the unexpected rightness of how she felt in his arms. This was imposs
ible. Things like this didn't happen in real life.

  And yet, here she was.

  He kissed her long and deep, holding her tight, until her body trembled against his. He unfastened a half dozen more tiny buttons, then slipped his hand inside her dress, cradling her breast in his palm. It was bare. She arched into him, firing his desire. Quickly, he found her other breast, and she moaned in pleasure at his touch.

  Her skin was like hot silk beneath his questing hands. He let them prowl her body, exploring every dark, warm place he could reach, making her writhe against him, fanning the flames of her passion. Her passion for him.

  Impatient for more, he opened buttons to her waist and slid her dress down her arms, letting it fall to the floor in a pool at her feet. He tightened his embrace and covered her mouth, his tongue plundering, stroking deep and hard. Oh, how he wanted her! Wanted to feel her under him, surrounding him, hot and eager. Wanted to claim this woman for himself.

  Suddenly he felt her push at his chest, withdrawing from his kiss, whispering urgently, "Wait. Please stop."

  Immediately, he broke away, grabbing for the self-control that had totally vanished, consumed by flames of need.

  God, what had he done? He had never lost it like that with a woman before. Never!

  Cole jammed his fingers through his hair in frustration and consternation. "I'm sorry," he said, sucking down a ragged breath. "Okay, I've stopped." He tried for a properly apologetic grin. "But you're killing me, you know."

  She looked up at him in surprise, then her gaze turned soft. She reached up and sweetly stroked his jaw. "Is that why you're wearing the armor? In case I try to kill you?"

  His brows drew together, his brain still lodged somewhere below the leather strap holding up his breechclout. "Armor?"

  She traced a finger down the front of his quill chest plate. "If I promise not to kill you, would you take this thing off?"

  He groaned, comprehension dawning. "Oh, honey, that must have hurt like hell." His eyes sought her breasts, which, sure enough, were covered with thin red marks.

  "Oh, baby, I'm so sorry." He pulled her to him, then let her go. "Aw, hell." Quickly he undid the ties that held the chest plate in place, and laid it over the back of the chair. He stretched out a hand to her. "Come here."

  She came into his arms, all warm, bare flesh, and he had to restrain himself from laying her down and taking her right then and there. Silently, he vowed to do everything he could to be worthy of her trust...worthy of this sweet, special woman.

  He didn't understand how she had completely tied him up in knots the space of a few short hours. He was never tied in knots. He was a lawyer. His job required him to be in control at all times. And up until a few moments ago, he always had been.

  But he had to admit, he kind of liked being all tied in knots over his Fire Eyes. For once in his measured, carefully planned existence, he was enjoying being over the edge and irrational. Not knowing what came next. Letting this incredible woman take him on an erotic journey he suddenly hoped would last for months, years, or maybe even a lifetime.

  Strange. For some reason, he felt safe with her. He'd never thought much about love at first sight—having long avoided anything to do with the emotion that until now had only brought him pain. But if love at first sight existed, this must be it.

  He smoothed his hand over the red marks on her breasts, and murmured in her ear, "I'm such a thoughtless idiot. Let me kiss them and make them better."

  * * *

  Rini blushed furiously at the warrior's whispered suggestion, and buried her face in the crook of his neck.

  He obviously felt guilty about hurting her, but truth be told, she hadn't even noticed the chest plate until she was accidentally pinched between two quills. He'd had a bad moment when she'd asked him to stop. He must have thought she'd meant to stop him for good. But the really unbelievable thing was he'd actually stopped, and hadn't whined about it.

  If this masked stranger hadn't already stolen her heart long before, she would have given it to him willingly at that moment.

  He caressed her breasts, a question in his eyes.

  Almost imperceptibly, she nodded.

  "Oh, honey." He swept her up in his powerful arms and carried her to the rug he'd unrolled earlier. He set her on her feet and smoothed the stray hairs from her face. "Are you sure about this? Really sure?"

  She melted a little more at his concerned words, fell even further under his spell, held him closer. How could she tell him how much it meant to her that he asked?

  "Because once I lay you down, I won't stop until I'm deep inside you."

  She traced her lips along his jaw, ignoring the voice in her mind that told her it was wrong, that she would regret being so impulsive.

  But she wouldn't. She needed this. Needed the affirmation of her feminine worth before she could move on from the destructive relationship she'd recently ended. In her heart she knew this man would not hurt her. He was sensitive, caring, and passionate. Everything David hadn't been.

  This was a no-brainer.

  "I'm sure," she whispered.

  "Thank God," he murmured, and before she could even think to protest, he slid her panties down over her hips.

  Her body thrilled and shivered to be naked in his arms. She felt wanton and reckless, desirable and sexy, and everything she hadn't felt for as long as she could remember.

  She drew a finger along the edge of his breechclout, wanting him as naked as she was. As if reading her mind, he quickly disposed of the garment and his moccasins, then reached for the knot of his choker.

  Without thinking, she laid a hand over his. "No. Leave it." She smiled shyly and flushed at his inquiring look. "It goes with the war paint."

  He chuckled. "I keep forgetting I've got that on. Does it bother you? I have remover in my gym bag."

  Wanting to make love to a nameless, faceless stranger was about as far away from her usual behavior as it got. But somehow, she felt as though she had known him forever. She didn't need to see his face to know he was everything she wanted. Needed.

  Winding her fingers through his long, ebony hair, she shook her head. "No. I know there's an honorable man under there, and that's what counts."

  He lowered her to the rug and lay down beside her, gathering her tightly in his arms. "What did I do to deserve you?" he whispered into her hair.

  He bent over her and kissed her until they were both breathless and she was trembling with desire. His hands explored her, and hers him, taking turns raising goose bumps and drawing forth sighs and gasps of pleasure. Over and over they rolled, their bodies moving apart and together in perfect harmony.

  He tucked her under him, gazing at her body, heatedly murmuring what he would do to each lovely bit—her endlessly long legs, her smooth, pale stomach and round, full breasts. Already taut, her nipples hardened to tight points at his lustful words and hungry gaze.

  "Fire Eyes," he murmured. "You are so beautiful." She gazed mistily into his eyes, her lips parting slightly. His scent washed over her, masculine and sensual, smelling of exotic places, and illicit desire.

  "I want you so much," she whispered, pulling him down by a strand of hair. She made love to his mouth with hers—erotically, thoroughly.

  He moaned, gritting his teeth, battling back from the edge, and she could see he was grasping for control. "Just ask, baby. I'll give you anything you want," he promised, and, although this was the craziest thing of all, she believed he meant it. "Everything I have to give is yours. Everything," he whispered.

  She was ready to pass out from the sheer, blinding pleasure her warrior's hands and mouth brought her. Surely, it was molasses flowing sweet and thick through her veins, since all her blood had pooled between her legs, throbbing furiously with every stroke of his fingers and tongue.

  He drove her wild. He drove her to be wild.

  He loved her breasts and shoulders and neck and stomach until she gasped for breath, begging for mercy. When he slid his fingers between her
legs, dipping into the honeyed folds, caressing her until she writhed and moaned beneath him, she knew what it was to die and go to heaven.

  "Make love to me," she pleaded, unable to wait any longer. "Please."

  In a single lithe movement, he slid between her legs and drove his hard length into her. Then she truly went to heaven, stars and all, flying apart in his arms, shattering in a million, pleasure-laden pieces, her cries of joy captured in his loving mouth.

  When she finally stopped shuddering, she looked up at him in contrition. "I'm sorry. I just couldn't stop myself—

  He grinned down at her, stroking her cheek with his thumb. "Hell, no. Don't be sorry. Do you have any idea what it does to a man's ego to have a woman come apart for him like that? Just from thrusting into her?"

  Could it be true? Relief mingled with embarrassment. "You mean it's not distracting?"

  "Distracting?" His brows lifted, then his eyes softened. "Honey, it's the sweetest gift a woman can give a man. Anyone who tells you different needs his head examined."

  He kissed her tenderly and started to move inside her. Filling her, stretching her, coaxing her once again toward oblivion. With a restraint she'd never experienced, he played her body with his, making them both hum and purr and finally sing in a hot, rhythmic lovers' duet that made all other music pale by comparison. When she crescendoed, he followed quickly.

  Afterward, they lay panting, limbs tangled, warm contentment stealing over her like a blanket of stars.

  And she slept.

  * * *

  The next morning Rini awoke to find herself wrapped in the arms of her lover. What on earth had gotten into David? He never—

  She froze, suddenly recalling the night before, and the man she was with. And it wasn't David! Mortification rolled through her at what she'd done.

 

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