Page 38 of The Forbidden Trio

“Tell me about it. Just… help me figure out what to wear before he gets here, because being naked when he arrives would not be a good thing.”

“Or it could be a very good thing. I’ve seen him, remember.”

“Celine! Are you going to help me or not?”

“Of course. And that’s easy. What do you feel the most powerful in?”

Twenty minutes later Janie was dressed in her favorite pair of low-slung jeans, a sleeveless silk top in a deep shade of gold that brought out the touches of gold in her green eyes and highlighted her long, blonde hair. She’d left it down in loose waves like a protective shield around her shoulders. And she wore her favorite pair of worn knee-high brown leather boots. She always felt like she could take on the world when she wore boots. A bit of silver jewelry and she was done. Which left ten minutes for her to obsessively check her lip gloss in the mirror and glance at her watch every thirty seconds.

She plopped down on the dark-green velvet sofa, picked up a magazine from the coffee table and leafed through it without seeing anything.

“This is ridiculous,” she murmured, standing up and bracing her hands on her hips. “And God, I’m talking to myself again.” She looked around the room. “Madame, where are you when I need you? Damn cat.”

When the door buzzer rang, she nearly jumped out of her skin. “Jesus!”

She checked her reflection in the mirror next to the front door one more time before smoothing her hands over her hips. “Okay. This is it. No big deal. Just dinner with the man you’ve secretly obsessed over most of your adult life. The one you left because you were smart and thinking clearly, which you are clearly not doing now. Piece of cake.” She paused. “Damn it.

I’m doing it again.”

When the buzzer went off once more, she squared her shoulders and opened the door.

Cole was leaning against the doorframe, one arm braced over his head in a relaxed pose only the most confident of men could pull off. He wore a black button-down shirt edged in blue stitching that brought out the icy blue of his eyes, and it was fitted enough that she could see the breadth of his shoulders straining against the fabric. The sleeves fit his biceps perfectly, as if molded there, and the fit of his jeans made her entire body ache with need.

“Hey, Janie girl. You look beautiful.”

She blinked. Focused on his mouth. Oh, that was not any better. Or it was, but…

“Um, you find the place okay?”

“Yeah, no problem.”

“Good.” She grabbed her purse from the console table next to the door. “I’m ready to go.” He paused, clearly wanting her to invite him in, but she knew she was doomed if she did that. Cole Kennrick and her, alone in her apartment? A very bad idea.

Or a very good one.

Stop it.

She looked up to find his gaze on hers, a smoldering blue that went right through her like a physical sensation—warm and intense.

“Cole?”

All he did was reach out and run a finger under her chin, but he may as well have put his hand between her thighs. That touch and his steady gaze on hers were working like some kind of wild aphrodisiac. Her legs went weak. Her sex went hot. Her mind went numb. When he stepped forward, she didn’t say a word. When he moved closer, using his big body to press her back, and closed the door behind him, she didn’t resist. She remembered this about him—how could she ever forget?—the way he used his tall, muscled frame to command her, to wrestle her into submission without even a word. But oh, when the words came, they were exactly the right ones to get her to shift gears in her head. To allow her to give herself over.

She hadn’t wanted to talk about the power play, but it was happening. It was too much a part of who Cole was—so naturally dominant despite his laid-back persona—and too much a part of who they were together. Submissive and Dominant. Absolute trust. Absolute vulnerability.

There were alarm bells going off in her head. She ignored them as he leaned in and kissed her.

Reallykissed her—not like that brief brush of lips at her yoga studio. This time it started with a soft press of his beautiful, lush mouth to hers. Then again, and again. His hand wrapped around the back of her head, holding her closer so he could kiss her harder, and she was damned if she wasn’t the first one to open her mouth and invite him in.

She really was in trouble then. His tongue slipped in, hot and wet and sweet, and began to explore. Except it wasn’t some slow exploration—it was more as if he would die if he couldn’t kiss her, taste her, drink her in. And she was kissing him back every bit as hungrily.

His hands slid down to her waist. She dropped her purse to the floor as her arms went around his neck and she breathed him in. Oh yes, it was Cole, all right. Like pure sex to her. He yanked her in tight and she gasped, but the sound was lost in his kiss—he was swallowing her up, or she was melting into him. She wasn’t sure. Didn’t matter. All that mattered was his mouth on hers, his arms holding her tight, the crush of her breasts against the firm wall of his chest. Oh, and the hard ridge of his arousal pressing against her belly.

Her nipples were just as hard, almost grating against the lace of her bra. She wanted out of itnow. Had she ever been this turned on in her life?

Only with him.

She kissed him harder, with everything she had. She’d had no idea how badly she needed this, needed him.

---