Page 65 of Greed
When no answer came back, she lifted her lids to the full impact of his attention. Those eyes betrayed his thoughts—two dark blue orbs burned with intensity—at her.
He frowned and slowly, his hands slid up her arms to her shoulders, as if he couldn’t help himself.
She tensed.
Okay, that definitely wasn’t platonic.
It was a caress, she realized with a jolt. The moment the thought sank in, her perception changed. It was almost a click in her brain. No longer did she feel like he was a stranger, but someone she trusted. This man saved her life. Overcome with awe, she looked up at him. He could stop a rain of bullets midair and he put her above all else in that room.
He wanted her.
Inch by inch, she lifted her palms until they flattened against his front. Her simple touch through his thick leather made his pupils blacken. He made a sound as though he bit back a groan.
They stared at each other, waiting for the other to halt the direction they were headed.
No one spoke, but their eyes said enough.
She slid her hands up and over his broad shoulders.
He cupped her face, rough warrior fingers rasping along her jaw.
Now’s your chance, his eyes challenged.Tell me to let go.
Instead, she blurted: “Kiss me.”
His lids hooded with a sultry gaze and she could almost feel the heat of his breath as he exhaled.
Yes, that was a red blooded man under there, and he wanted to kiss her too. Slowly, she tugged at his face scarf, but in a snap, he captured her wrists and held them over her head against the wall.
Shock sparked a thrill.
“No,” he growled, strained. “You can’t see my face.”
Disappointment flooded her, and she knew it was irrational. He was a stranger. A frickin’ hero. He could probably get any woman he wanted… but he was there, looking at her with those sex filled eyes. Eyes now filling with the same frustration she felt.
He wanted the same things. But he held back.
“Touch me,” she whispered, begged. “Kiss me.”
He transferred her captive wrists to one hand, and then achingly tugged the beanie lower until it covered her eyes and darkness swallowed her whole. For a moment, panic jarred her senses and took her back to Donnie. Her heart galloped, her body tensed.
He’d covered her eyes but left her mouth free to breathe… and maybe free for something else.
“Tell me to stop if you don’t want this,” he murmured hotly near her ear. His voice was deep, husky, and unmasked. He’d removed the voice modifier, trusting her.
She licked her lips in anticipation at whatthismight entail, and did she? Did she want this? Yes. Hell yes. Small blurred flashes of light came through the knitted gaps in her beanie. He was her fantasy man, no strings attached. Her vision board come to life. No ordering her around, or trying to control her. He wasn’t lying, he was upfront about his identity needing to remain secret. Underneath that leather was a strong, lethal man who put her before anyone else this night. Now he was asking for permission.
“I want this,” she confessed.
She waited.
Nothing happened.
Then hot lips landed on her neck, kissing and licking with ferocity. Oh,God. Her legs weakened as desire zipped through her body, but he held her up. Strong. Steady. With the light out, her senses amplified. He smelled like sex—musky and male. She focused on the touch of his soft, wet mouth. On her throat, her ear, her jaw. He was voracious in his appetite for her and it aroused her.
She was taken. Smitten.
Drowning in another world of heat, hard limbs, wet lips…
