Page 100 of Stone Cold Touch

His eyes widened with shock as I moved my weight to my arms. My hair slid over my shoulders, creating a whitish-blond curtain. Sitting astride him, feeling him under me, between my legs, I felt like a goddess rising on the throne of sexy. I almost giggled at that thought, but figured that would ruin my sexiness.

“God.” He kicked his head back, groaning as his hands settled on my hips. “I really,reallylike you this way.”

“Then what’s the problem?” I asked as I rocked back, trailing my fingertips down his flat stomach.

His fingers dug into my hips as he stared up at me through heavy-lidded eyes. “I can’t really think of one right now.”

“Good.” I started to dip my head, aiming for his parted lips.

He caught me again by the wrists, lifting my arms and holding me back. “This...this isn’t going to happen, baby.”

Confused, I tried to get closer, but he held me off. A little bit of the pleasant haze faded as my heart tripped up. “You...you don’t want me?”

Roth moved so quickly I didn’t have a second to think about what he was doing. He had me on my back with my arms stretched above my head. “Don’t want you?” he said, pressing down on me. Every part of our bodies touched, robbing me of my breath. “I think you know the answer to that.”

Oh, I think I did.

I managed to get one of my legs freed from under his, and I hooked my calf around his lower leg. His hips sank in and my body tingled as if little sparks were dancing over my skin. He groaned again.

“I want you so badly it’s like a hunger that gnaws at me endlessly. It doesn’t go away.” He dipped his head to the space between my neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply. “You have no fucking clue.”

“Then do something about it,” I whispered.

Roth lifted his head, and his pupils had stretched vertically. “Layla...” The way he spoke my name was like a benediction. “Please...”

My fingers curled helplessly as I stretched up, finally reaching him with my lips. Our mouths barely touched, but Roth shuddered and his grip around my wrists tightened.

And then he was on me.

It was as though the chains holding him back had snapped. Roth kissed me, and there wasn’t anything soft or sweet about the way his mouth worked mine. He moved my wrists to one hand, and his other hand slid down my arm and then down my side, under the hem of my camisole. His hand left a wake of fire as he moved it up the bare skin of my stomach and then farther up. I arched into the touch, and I got lost in that kiss, lost in the taste and feel of him that was so familiar it ached.

Then the kiss deepened, and the taste of him branded me from the inside out. His heart was slamming against mine. Our bodies fit together and moved, causing every cell in me to burn for more, to demand it. And Roth gave it. His hips rolled in ways that had me gasping in between the deep, soul-searing kisses. My legs curled around him.

“You feel too good,” he murmured against my mouth. A deep sound rumbled from him as he kissed me again. “You taste too good to be true.”

I really didn’t understand what that meant, but I wanted to touch him, to run my fingers over the ropey muscles of his back, to slip them under his loose jeans. I felt as if I was going to come out of my skin, like I had before...that night with him, which felt so very long ago, but this was right now and his body moved like sin.

Without warning, he was off me, and the bed shook when he flopped on his back. For a moment, I was too stunned to move, too caught up in the racing sensations playing across my skin.

Panting, I started to sit up and follow him. “Roth—”

“Don’t,” he said, raising a hand that trembled. “God, I can’t believe I’m even saying this, but don’t come closer. Don’t move.”

Without warning, he threw his legs off the bed and stood. Slowly rising up onto my elbows, I watched him stalk around the bed.

Roth thrust both of his hands through his hair and cursed low. Like a caged animal, he looked over at me. His eyes burned from a fire within.

I followed his gaze. My camisole was rucked up, past my bra. Before I could do anything to rectify it, he spun around and headed for the bathroom. The door slammed shut behind him, echoing throughout the loft.

Exhaling deeply, I fell back and squeezed my eyes shut. What just happened? It felt as though we’d both been on the same page, that we wanted the same thing. Didn’t we?

I rubbed my hands down my face and then tugged my shirt down. A couple of minutes passed, maybe longer, as I willed my body to calm down and my heart to slow. Roth had still not returned from the bathroom, and my face flamed an unholy shade of red when I wondered what he could possibly be doing in there.

The high was fading fast and all that logic and common sense I’d swept away like an annoying gnat was warring with the exhaustion creeping up on me. That little voice in the back of the head was getting louder, full of righteous humiliation, and threatening to bitch slap me in the face, but then the three demon kittens from Hell loped up over the foot of the bed. Prowling forward, their paws sinking into the covers, they eyed me as if I was a colorful, yet stupid, butterfly snared in a spider’s web.

I froze as they wiggled their way up to my side, and then frowned as they settled down into little balls that purred so loudly they vibrated the bed.

Somewhat dumbfounded, I stared at them as that little voice started up again, telling me to get up and to get the Hell out of this place before it was too late. But the hum of the kittens had a lulling effect, and, before I knew it, the distance between right now and later expanded.

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