Page 33 of Wild Card

“I don’t care if you held up the attendant and shot out the security cams.” His voice was as roughly faceted as his jaw, which clenched in all the best ways as he tore the foil open with his teeth. Before he pulled out the latex, he nodded toward the center of the bed. “Now get naked for me, beauty. I want to see all of you—right there.”

She rewetted her lips. An instant Yes, Sir was ready to spill but her newborn confidence took over, guiding her hands to pull off her tee with sensual little tugs. She kept up the flirtation after removing her sports bra, trailing both hands over her erect nipples, pulling until they became firm berries of arousal. Only after Sam let out a low rumble did she finally say, in a teasing murmur, “But…I’m covered in a bunch of old sweat.”

She was rewarded with the gulp that corded Sam’s neck…and the darker danger in his eyes. “And soon you’ll be drenched in new sweat. Now get those pants off. I need to see every fuckin’ inch of you.”

His tone brooked no more dawdling. Wisely, Jen didn’t. As she shucked her workout pants then scrambled to the center of the bed, the sound of latex whisking from foil gave their starlight and shadows illicit new interpretations. The flesh between her thighs reacted at once, dripping with readiness before she even lay back against the pillows.

“What the bloody—”

Sam’s outburst whipped her stare back to him. Immediately, she spied the cause—and pressed her lips to keep from giggling. “Oh. Ummm. Yeah. Did I tell you why the packet fell into my tote?”

“Because you were tryin’ to figure this out?” He gestured at his erection with a sharp sweep. The condom was stretched tightly over his broad length, from the juncture of his heavy balls to the proud crown at the top—though now that peak was…

Decorated.

The rim between his head and frenulum was accented with a ring of bright blue latex, serving as the base for a row of small rubber spikes. The resulting look was a little exotic mixed with a lot of erotic—but blurting that definitely didn’t feel like a great idea.

“Well. At least it’s a great color.” She raised a helpful smile. Or so she hoped.

Unbelievably, his mouth twitched. One dimple appeared, then the other. “That so, sassy mouse?”

As he stepped to the bed then prowled across it, instinct backed Jen against the pillows. This must be what it was like to walk into a cage with a chained tiger. Yeah, the chain was there. Yeah, it was locked tight. But wild creatures had their ways of slipping chains…and devouring their prey.

“N-not sass.” She barely held back a gasp as he closed long fingers around her ankle. “Just—just—”

“Just what?” He swung in, clasping her other ankle.

An outcry wasn’t so easy to quell as his fingers glided up her calves. “Ad-admiring…the s-s-s-scenery.” Oh God, how his touch turned her to fire. How his presence, feral and graceful, flowed over her like a caress…awakened her every nerve ending…ignited her every pore.

He skated his fingers behind her knees. “Well, the scenery likes bein’ admired.” His head dipped, golden and gorgeous, as he nipped the insides of her thighs. “The scenery likes it…very much.”

“Mmmmm.” Her intention was a seductive hum but it sounded more like a strangled choke. “Uh—okay. If—if that’s the way the scenery likes it.”

Two more kisses, higher on her thighs, made her shiver. Screw the fact that the man could rain fire on an enemy from ten thousand feet. His mouth was capable of equal incineration from two inches of altitude. She twisted. Shivered. Bucked toward him, gasping anew as her sex surged and plumped, ached and hardened, stretching in dire need for his magical lips…

Which he abruptly pulled away, adding a snarl of satisfaction in the doing.

“Oh!” Jen cried. “Bastard!”

Before she could add to that litany, his touch rose higher. No more of his sweet and teasing shit about it, either. With a pair of brutal grips on her thighs, he yanked her down from the pillows…and aligned her body beneath his.

“Bastard?” He flashed a smirk, alluring and antagonizing at once. “Good bastard or bad bastard?”

“I—I don’t know. Ohhhh, shit!” She struggled to even get all that out, fighting the quaking in her limbs as he rolled his hips—scraping her pussy with those nasty blue spikes. Those perfect, incredible little teasers… “Y-you’re driving me crazy. I—I can’t think—”

“Then don’t.” A fresh underscore of command stamped the words. “Stop thinking, Jenny, and just feel it. Feel it all.”

“Not an option.” And it wasn’t. Not anymore. She knew that now. Giving in to his passion, his lust, and his hot Highlander body was one thing. But extending those sensations, letting them become anything more, was off the table—and should’ve been from the moment he’d cornered her in the elevator back at The Nyte. But so was sharing any or all of those gory details with him—even as he taunted her even more, circling that ring of rubber fingers against her sizzling flesh, zapping every nerve in her pussy full of new awareness, making her own hips lurch and shiver. Sam didn’t make her battle easy. With every new surrender she gave, his snarls grew deeper, his muscles coiled tauter, his sex swelled bigger.

When he rose up a little, his gaze descending over her body, everything clenched even more. Then again, as he curled the sexiest half-grin God had ever given a man. Or perhaps all tigers looked that innocent before ripping their food apart.

No. That wasn’t right, either.

Sam Mackenna had already ripped her apart. She just didn’t—couldn’t let herself—feel the pain yet. And right now, that had to be okay.

“I don’t think your body cares about options right now, Jenny.”

She was actually grateful for his sarcasm. Told him so with a rueful wince. “I think you might be right about that, bastard.”

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