Page 47 of Desperate Desires

I wasn’t stupid, and no, my instincts were not broken.

So yeah. When I saw all six foot plus two hundred and fifty pounds of male, give or take, barreling down on me, I backed up a step.

My pulse was racing like crazy and my heart started pounding so hard I thought it might crack a rib or two.

Moisture pooled between my thighs, which I realized was a crazy response to this. To him. But what could I say?

Ono was seriously hot—breathtaking, really.

He was towering and broad, his presence commanding the space as he hovered in front of me.

Every inch of him was packed with hard, honed muscle that practically dared anyone to challenge him, and dear Lord, those tattoos. They swirled across his hands and chest like whispered secrets, adding an air of danger that was impossible to ignore.

The thing that really got me though, were his eyes.

Those perfect cobalt-blue eyes.

They weren’t cold or intimidating, despite everything else about him that screamed, "don’t mess with me."

No, his eyes smoldered. They roamed over me like hands, alive with a slow-burning heat that sent sparks skittering across my skin.

There was admiration in his gaze, the kind that made me feel like I was the only woman in the world. And I’d never felt that before. Didn’t know if I should trust it or him.

But I wanted to. Deep down, something inside me whispered, urging me to go ahead.

Do it, Shelly, trust him.

The way he looked at me—like I was something rare, something he wanted to devour—sent shivers racing up my spine. I was equal parts thrill, anxiety, and temptation.

My heart kicked up a notch, and a molten ache pooled low in my belly. I had no defense against the way he was staring at me.

No one had ever looked at me like that.

I sucked in a sharp breath. Ono moved then, as if my breathing was the ringing of the bell or the shot of a pistol at the starting gate to some race to undress.

His hands moved quickly. First, they reached for his jacket, and he shrugged it off, tossing it on the sofa. I frowned, worried the fine wool might catch on something.

But I was distracted from that thought as those big, tatted hands next went to the buttons of his shirt.

“Ono—”

“What? You telling me you don’t want me, Baby? Is that what you’re saying? Cause I can see the way your chest is rising and falling, harder and faster with every passing second.”

“That’s not fair. I have breasts, they move,” I replied indignant that he said what he said about my body.

“What’s not fair?”

“I can’t help it. I mean, look at you!” I whisper screamed, eyes wide as he revealed more and more of his magnificent body.

“I’m glad you like what you see, Bellezza. So do I,” he growled, dipping his chin at me.

“What?”

“So fucking gorgeous. My dick is so hard, it’s about to punch a hole through my fucking pants. You want to talk unfair? Men don’t know if women are interested until they're undressed, until they can feel the slick between their thighs. So, are you interested, Baby? Or do you want me to stop?” he asked, his hands freezing on separate sides of his shirt.

He stopped. No!

I wanted to whine. To stomp my feet and tell him to stop being such a damn tease about it. But I had to appreciate that he was giving me the choice. That this big, powerful man was putting me in charge.

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