Page 9 of The Secret Sanchez Heir
‘There’s nothing wrong with my shirt.’
‘There’s everything wrong with it. All those infernal buttons. Very starched and white.’
‘It’s my work outfit.’
‘I hate it and I’d really like you to take it off.’
‘I can’t believe you’re saying that, Leandro.’ But she wondered why she was surprised when he had always been the king of the outrageous demand.
His voice was as smooth as caramel and he made everything sound so easy. Two people, no strings attached, no thorny past to contend with, thrown together for a purpose. He almost made it sound as though it would be an insult to fate were they not to take the opportunity to jump right back into bed with one another simply because they happened to be unexpectedly sharing the same space.
Her mouth was still tingling from his hungry kiss, and her whole body was on fire, and the worst of it was that he knew it. He knew it because he knew her. She might have kept stuff from him—not through design but by default, almost—but really she had opened up to him in ways she’d never dreamed she would.
He had known what she thought about everything under the sun, and he’d certainly known how she’d felt when he touched her, when he’d whispered into her ear. That was why he knew exactly what was going on inside her and was certainly part of the reason why her feet seemed to be nailed to the floor and her wilful body was determined not to listen to calm reason and get the heck out of the kitchen and away from him.
‘Or...’
His voice lingered seductively on that one syllable, stretching it out till her nerves were on the point of shredding.
‘I could always do the taking off for you... Will you let me?’
Rendered speechless, Abigail just stared and he grinned and tilted his handsome head to one side. ‘You’re not saying anything. Either you’ve decided to consent through silence or else I take your breath away. Maybe both.’
‘You are so full of yourself, Leandro Sanchez.’
‘I know,’ he said ruefully, ‘and, believe me, it’s something I’m trying to cure.’
‘How can you flirt with me when you don’t even like me?’
‘I don’t know,’ Leandro replied with a lot more honesty than he’d intended. ‘Let’s stop talking.’ He began to undo the buttons she had fastidiously done up only moments before and she felt her knees buckling as she let him.
His hands were very gentle on her, barely brushing her skin as he eased the shirt off and then unhooked the bra from the back and removed it. He’d moved closer to her and the only indication that he was turned on was his unsteady breathing and the hot, drowsy look in his eyes.
Abigail knew that if she touched him through his jeans she would feel the rock-hard length of his arousal, and just thinking that chipped away even more at her non-existent defences. Hard on the heels of that thought came another memory, the memory of how he filled her up, the surge of sensation as he thrust inside her, moving and building a rhythm that had never failed to take her over the top.
Pressed against the kitchen door, she arched back and her eyelids fluttered as he lowered himself down in front of her. It had been so long and, yes, she had missed this so much. It was a bitter pill to swallow because it defied all logic, but he was right. She could still want him, want this, even though their relationship had collapsed, even though there was no affection left between them, but instead the biggest secret of all that had the power to blow his world apart.
That secret should have stopped her but by the time his mouth was sucking on her nipple she was already too far gone into a world of heightened sensation where nothing mattered but what he was doing to her.
She plunged her hands into his hair and then half-groaned and sagged back as his questing mouth travelled lower, tracing her stomach then pausing as he reached her no-nonsense grey trousers, which doubtless he also loathed.
All those muddled thoughts were zooming around in her head as he began to unzip them, tugging them gently down until they pooled at her feet.
Her fingers were still entwined in his dark, springy hair, her eyes were shut and she could barely breathe as he pressed his face against her underwear, breathing her in.
He’d introduced her body to the art of making love and she could remember the way she had jerked back when he had first gone down there. She hadn’t been able to imagine such an intimacy, but she had quickly become a fan, and her body now quivered in anticipation of his mouth and tongue delving into her. She was so turned on.
He nuzzled for a while, breathing her in, then delicately he pulled down her panties and she shimmied obligingly out of them. Her body was incredibly familiar even though Leandro dimly registered that she was slightly more rounded than he remembered. If possible, that made her even sexier. Her hips were fuller and her belly was still flat but slightly softer.
Same musky scent, though, that had always been able to work on him like a drug.
He placed his hands on her inner thighs and gently eased them apart and then he flicked his tongue into her, finding the tight, throbbing bud and tickling it until she was melting.
He wanted to pleasure her so badly it hurt. He craved the feeling of her coming against his mouth and he continued to lick and suck while her stifled whimpers turned into low, barely audible groans, and then she was coming, her spine arching, her whole body stiffening and flailing as she couldn’t hold on any longer.
Abigail practically collapsed against him. Her climax was so explosive that it blew her legs from under her. Hot, naked and shaking, she clung to him and Lord knew what would have happened next in that scenario if the shrill sound of the landline hadn’t interrupted what had been, as she came to realise faster than a bolt of lightning, a moment of complete and utter madness.
Leandro swore under his breath and stalked across to snatch the receiver of the kitchen phone up, at which point he had a brusque and intensely irritated conversation with someone who seemed to be calling from a catering company.
