Page 50 of Silver-Tongued Devil
“And that other thing?” he said. “I’d win at that, too.”
“How big are your feet?” She could hear how breathless she sounded, and she couldn’t help it. She couldn’t stop looking at their hands, either. She couldn’t seem to take her hand away.
He didn’t smile. “Thirteen.”
She swallowed. “Oh. Big.”
“Yeah.” He was looking into her eyes, and so slowly, he pushed his fingers through hers and held her hand there. “You didn’t like my list. I’m ready to make a better effort, because I’m watching you drink that wine, the way you’re tasting every bit of it. I’m seeing the way you’re looking at your shell. I’m remembering the way your perfume smelled when you walked by me at that restaurant. And I’m sure as hell thinking about the way you looked in my hot tub. So if you want the rest of my list, I’m waiting to give it to you.”
“I think you just did,” she managed to say. She realized that her body was turned toward him on the couch, and that the material of the robe had parted over her legs, so she was flashing some thigh, and she didn’t care. The sky was glowing pink, reflected in the water, and she was floating on a pink cloud herself made of warm water, rich wine, and hard man.
He reached out at last, but he didn’t touch her. He took off her glasses and set them on the coffee table, and she forgot to breathe. Then his hand came down on her shoulder, and she sighed as if she’d been waiting for it and it was finally here. And still he didn’t grab her. Instead, his fingers rubbed along the edge of the silk, and his voice was low and deep and absolutely mesmerizing. “I’ll give you some more, then. Your art turns me on like nothing I’ve ever seen. Your face changes every time I look at it, and it makes me want to keep looking. Your mouth makes me want to do dirty things to you. And your skin makes me want to lay you down and love you all night long. I’m looking at your legs right now, and I want to take this robe off you and touch you everywhere. And damn, girl, but I want to kiss you.”
Silver-tongued devil.She heard Russell’s words, but all she could think was,Oh, yeah. Tell me some more.His fingers were still stroking, her eyes were trying to drift shut, and he was taking her wine glass from her hand. And she let him do it.
When his lips brushed over hers, all she thought wasYes,and all she felt was fire. And when the back of his other hand traced the edge of that silk robe down the vee between her breasts, all she wanted was more. He’d let go of her hand and taken hold of the back of her neck, his fingers so strong there, and somehow, she was going back, sliding along the edge of all that leather until her head came to rest on the arm of the couch. And he came right along with her.
His mouth tasted like wine, and like man. One hand still held her head, and she wanted it there. Her mouth had long since opened under his, and his tongue was exploring, tasting.
She heard a humming in her head and realized she was moaning, and she couldn’t help it. His hand had parted her robe and was on a bare breast. His thumb flicked over the nipple, then did it again, and the shock went straight to her center as if he’d licked her there.
His mouth left hers, and her lips tingled and wanted his back. And then she forgot that, because his mouth was trailing over her cheek, kissing its way down her neck, lingering every time he felt her squirm or heard her moan.
“I want to kiss you everywhere,” he said, his breath warm in her ear, and she shuddered. “Everywhere you were touching tonight. It’s going to be me this time. All mine.”
He was biting the lobe of her ear, his lips moving up around the edge, sucking the chain in her ear into his mouth, and somehow, that felt better than anything else. Or maybe it was his hand on her breast, exploring, pinching, then circling, not letting her get used to anything, not letting her settle.
“Dakota,” he said, and now, he’d moved down her body, brushing the robe entirely aside. She was lying there, sprawled naked against the leather of his couch, and he was propped on an arm, looking at her like she was all he wanted to see.
“I’m going to have to fuck you, baby,” he told her, and his finger was there, painting her, probing, parting the slick folds and pushing inside, where she was already so wet. Exploring her like there was no such thing as embarrassment, no such thing as a second thought. “But I’m going to eat every bit of this first. I’m going to open this shell and eat it all up. I’m going to watch you come, and then I’m going to do it again. And after that, we’re going to do the rest. I'm going to do it slow, and then I’m going to do it so hard and so deep. I’m going to make you know you’re mine.”
She was burning up. His fingers… oh, that feltgood. His tongue was in her belly button, swirling around the barbell, licking into the holes of her piercing. One of her hands was in his hair already, and she was halfway to losing her mind.
Bam. Bam. Bam.She jerked upright like somebody had pulled her strings. Somebody was pounding on the door. And then they were ringing the doorbell. And she was naked.
What was shedoing?
It took Blake a moment for the noise to register, but the doorbell finally got through.
Whoever it was, they could forget it. He shoved himself up so he could kiss Dakota, took her lower lip between both his own, and sucked on it.Go away,he told whoever was at the door.I’m busy.
The doorbell rang again, and this wasn’t working. Dakota was stiffening under him.
“Ignore it,” he murmured. “They’ll go away.”
“Orbison!” He heard the bellow, and she heard it, too, because she was pushing off, struggling to sit.
Damn it tohell.
She was pulling the robe back on, tying the sash, trying to smooth out her hair, not looking at him. “Aren’t you going to answer the door?” she asked when he didn’t move. “It’s Evan.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I already figured that out.” He got up, reached into his jeans, and gave himself a quick, not-so discreet adjustment. His body was screaming at him, but Dakota was about to do the same thing, so his body was losing this one.
He went to the front door and opened it, and Evan had to spin to pull his punch. “You might want to watch it,” Blake said, not bothering to hide his disgust. “Not beat the door down.”
Evan didn’t answer that. His face was hard. And he had his baby daughter in one big arm, which made this Showdown at the OK Corral faintly ridiculous. “Is Dakota here?” he asked. “Or do you know where she is?”
Blake sighed, stood back, and swept out an arm. “Come on in.”
