Page 8 of Cross Check Hearts

But as I drive back toward my apartment, my body hums with awareness, my nipples tight against the fabric of my bra and my skin still tingling where he touched me. I swear I can still feel his phantom touch on me, as if that night between us never ended.

Chapter4

Hannah

Six Months Ago

The masked man is kissing me like I’ve never been kissed before, hungry and desperate, like he’s afraid if he takes his lips away from mine I’ll spontaneously disappear. But I’m not going anywhere.

I lose myself in the kiss a little, my tongue sliding against his, while he takes greedy handfuls of my dress and skin. He’s warm to the touch like an ember, and he smells like cedar and spice, which ignites something in me. The rest of the club seems to fade away as I zero in on the blaze of his lips against mine, and for a second, I forget there’s anyone else in the room.

There’s only him—and I can’t get enough.

He makes a sexy little sound as he nips at my lower lip like he can’t get enough of me either, then moves to my neck, slowly scraping his teeth down it and making me whimper. He works his mouth all the way down my neck and gently nips at the soft skin where it meets my shoulder, then pulls back.

“You taste amazing. Even better than you smell,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my skin. He kisses me again, holding me close to him with one hand on my lower back while the other pushes aside the slit of my dress to get at my thigh that’s crossed over the other. He massages the muscles with surprising yet tender strength, and images of those hands all over the rest of my body flash through my mind.

He kisses the back of my ear, making me shudder.

“I want to taste you everywhere,” he says, and my hand falls to his forearm. I squeeze it to steady myself as my clit throbs. Despite my grip, he keeps moving his hand slowly and sensually up my thigh.

“Is this okay?” he breathes, and I uncross my legs.

“Yes,” I whisper, and he flashes me a heated grin as his hand disappears under my dress. He pushes my panties aside, and when his fingers find my wetness, his nostrils flare.

He teases my clit with his fingertips, brushing them against me lightly like an artist exploring a canvas. Our eyes lock, and his simmering gaze boils me over inside. His tongue darts out to trace his lower lip as he gently slides a thick, calloused finger into me, and he groans at how easily I take him.

“God, you’re so wet,” he murmurs, and I realize it’s true.

I don’t think I’ve ever been this turned on in my life, and we’ve barely done anything together. I whimper as he drives his finger deeper into me, and the masked man glances up over my shoulder.

“Looks like we’ve got an audience,” he says quietly, and my stomach flutters. The room, which seemed to fall away as I lost myself in his touch, comes rushing back into focus and I realize how many people are casting subtle glances our way, obviously enjoying watching James with his hand up my dress.

“I think every one of them is jealous of me right now. But I don’t want to share you.” He kisses me again to prove it, his hand still working between my legs, then pulls back, tipping my chin up with his free hand. “Come with me to one of the private rooms.”

I nod, and he stands to scoop me off the barstool so my legs wrap around his lean, muscular waist. He’s as solid as a tree trunk and holds me up like I don’t weigh anything. I feel my dress riding up my back a little, and James smirks as he carries me away from the bar.

“We’ll give them one last show,” he murmurs.

His words blaze through me from my head to my toes, and I grind against his stomach, kissing him hard as we reach the open door of one of the many rooms branching off from the main one.

He carries me inside where two candelabras on either side of the room cast it in soft, flickering light. A bed made with silky looking sheets and dark pillows waits for us, but rather than bringing me over there, he kicks the door closed and presses me against it, ratcheting up the intensity of the kiss now that we’re alone. I tip my head back as he drags his lips away from mine, trailing his mouth along my jaw and neck with a hunger that makes my clit throb.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he groans. “I knew you would. Need to taste more of you.”

He pulls me away from the wall suddenly, and I wrap my arms around his neck to steady myself as he strides quickly across the room and deposits me on the bed. I bounce a little on the soft mattress, and he stands over me, gazing down at me appreciatively.

His eyes travel over me slowly, burning behind his mask as he slowly loosens his tie.

“Can I take off your mask?” he asks, his voice low.

“Yes, but only if I can see you too.”

He nods and tugs his mask off his face first, and he’s even better looking than I thought. He’s got a sharp jawline, strong cheekbones, and thick lashes that frame his gorgeous eyes. He reaches for my face to push my mask off, and when he gets a look at my face, he chuckles in disbelief as he cradles my head in both hands and stares into my eyes.

“Mon Dieu, tu es incroyablement belle. Tu vas me gâcher pour toutes les autres femmes, n’est-ce pas?” he whispers, and although I recognize it as French, I don’t understand a word he’s saying. But it sounds so beautiful that it sends a shiver rippling through me anyway.

“You speak French?” I ask, and he nods with a smile.

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