Page 79 of Bad Enough

She turned her attention back to her screen, one of the hardest things she swore she’d ever done. She never wanted to miss one look, one movement, one word from him. But those wants were far too dangerous, so she tore her gaze away.

With every book I write going forward, he’ll be all I’ll see. I won’t be able to bear it.

The shadow in her doorway was silent so long that Sylvan’s heart, which had just returned to normal beats, suddenly ramped back up in panic.

“What is it, TB? Is something wrong?”

He said nothing.

“TB? You’re scaring me.” Her voice was still quiet, but it rose slightly in octave.

Slowly, he stood up straight, his hands coming out of his pockets. He moved forward with his predatory stealth. Once he stood across from her over the desk, he simply looked deeply into her eyes.

“Was there something you needed?” she asked in a shaky whisper.

All of a sudden, he was between her and the fireplace. Reaching to the back of her head, he pulled out the clip holding her hair up from her shoulders. The red tresses fell loosely down her back and around her face, one strand falling forward over her ear and down over her breast. His gaze lowered to the curl at its bottom edge that fell just before her waistline. He raised her out of the desk chair, reached out, and pinched the curl, loosely winding it around his fingertip. He seemed fascinated by the softness of her hair as his thumb massaged the lock.

“I just finished one of your books.”

He did WHAT?! Oh, flippety flip-flip!

All the saliva in her mouth seemed to dry up in that instant. The best she could manage to do was swallow convulsively.

“I thought you were a hearts and flowers kind of girl. Horseback rides on sunset beaches. Champagne picnics along the river. White weddings.” His finger began to wind the curl again, only this time, it didn’t stop until it came up to her ear. Then he let go, and the curl unwound itself to fall back to its original place over her breast. Sliding his hand along her neck and ear, he cradled her head in his large palm. Of its own volition, Sylvan’s face leaned into his palm, her eyes lowering to half-mast, almost drunk with his nearness.

Suddenly, she gasped as she felt a pleasurable sting. His fingers had tunneled to the roots of her hair and pulled tightly so that her head tilted back and her eyes flew open to stare into his emerald ones.

Oh, yes!

The forefinger on his other hand traced the shell of her ear. “I was so, so wrong. Imagine my surprise that my curious hearts and flowers girl likes her sex very dirty, very rough, and very creative.” He brought his face close to hers and dragged the very tip of his nose from chin to brow. “I especially liked pages one hundred thirty-four through one hundred forty-seven. You learned your lessons on BDSM well.”

Oh, Frankenstein! He read Nature of the Beast. Of all the ones to read!

“Steel warned me I would learn a lot about you if I read one of your books.” Suddenly, his lips were touching her skin, not kissing her but dragging down the cord of her neck. “I told him that reading a romance novel was something I’d never be caught dead doing. Besides that, what could some sappy, unrealistic book possibly tell me about you that I didn’t already know? But I decided I’d give his crazy idea a try.” His mouth lingered on the spot just beside her ear. “Now I know why the guys were buzzing around you like bees among the sweetest roses this morning. Although… I’m thinking I liked it better when we were on the computer and at the club when I was the only one who could see those dirty desires of yours.” And his warm breath was replaced by his tongue tracing the shell of her ear.

Her inner self was whimpering. Or at least she thought it was. It took a moment to register that she actually made the soft moan that escaped her mouth. Embarrassed but unwilling to tell him to stop, her eyes fluttered back to half-mast with a primitive need to experience the sensation without focusing on what she could see in front of her. “Again, please,” she begged.

“Do what again, princess?”

“Pull.”

“Pull, what?”

“My hair.”

He tightened his grip on her hair roots and pulled again gently. The slight stinging sensation traveled to her eyelids, pulling them shut. Its path zigged and zagged down through her bloodstream, causing her blood to burn, her heart pumping double time, her lungs expanding to take in more air, her stomach tightening, her womb clenching, and finally sparking her clit, flaming it to life.

“Yes. That’s what you wanted.” His warm breath exhaled into her ear, and then she felt something pull open the collar of her blouse. Something soft, warm, and wet brushed at the juncture of her neck and shoulder—his tongue—and then she felt cool air blowing across her skin. Sylvan’s knees failed, and she gripped his biceps. TB must have felt her body give way because his arm snaked around her waist and clutched her to him. “I’ve got you, little Flame. Now, let’s see how else I can make you burn.”

His mouth moved from her ear, and she whimpered as if in distress. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. You couldn’t drag me away now. Put your arms around my neck, little Flame.” Tentatively, she let go of his arms and slid them up to his shoulders. She was so tiny compared to him that when TB picked her up so that her arms could reach around him, she clasped him like he was saving her from drowning.

“Look at me, princess.”

A sting registered as he nipped her lower lip. Reflexively, she tried to pull back in shock. “Open for me,” he ordered.

Trusting him, she opened her mouth, and immediately, his tongue slid inside to stroke hers. If she thought he sucked the oxygen out of a room before, now that his lips were on hers for the first time, she felt like he was a black hole. Everything felt like it was spinning, like she was gasping for air, and like she was endlessly falling.

Then she realized she wasn’t falling—she was sliding down the front of his body. “No, no,” she clutched at him.

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