Page 85 of The Billionaire’s Fake Fiancée
Heat spools off his body.
A flare of desire. I can't resist. Don't want to resist.
Rising to my feet, I brush my lips against his. Once.
No response.
Again.
Still, he doesn't move.
I slide my tongue over his lips, nibbling, trying to get him to open his mouth.
Still no change.
Then his muscles tense, lock into place, and a shudder runs through him. He groans, the sound torn out of him. I feel it rumble up his chest, feel it in that space where my skin touches his. It vibrates up his throat, but I don't let go. I deepen the kiss so I can swallow the sound as it rolls over his tongue.
He drags me to him, so suddenly my palm is caught between us. I feel him throb, feel the heat furnace off him in a dense cloud that pours over me, pooling between my legs.
I clutch at his shirt front as my knees buckle, and he yanks me closer, so close it feels like my skin is melting. He's all around me, and I can't breathe.
The pull toward him is so strong, I know I am precariously close to losing control. To him. Again. And I don't want to. Not this time. This time I want to set the pace. And I want to take my time about it.
I hadn't counted on things spiraling out of control between us like this. Meeting him unprepared has taken me by surprise. That on top of the events of the day. I must get away from here, from him, from how he's making me feel. My throat closes, pulse racing.
I push against him and he lets go. His eyes blaze, desire swirling in them, jumping off him so strongly that I almost lean back into him. My eyes drop to the front of his pants, his arousal so evident that a fresh flare of heat leaps to life in my belly.
No.
I take another step back till I feel the car behind me. His hands drop to his side. I know the moment his brain finally catches up with what his body is conveying to him.
Surprise slashes through the desire on his face. His eyes clear a little, but the green still wars with the silver. I can't look away. And I sense the struggle in him. He wants to close the gap between us, push me against the car, and take me right here. And I want it too. So bad.
"No."
I'm not aware of having spoken aloud. But he hears my refusal to the unspoken question.
Emotions twist across his face: confusion, anger and something else. Sadness. As if his insides are churning as much as mine.
Jace opens his mouth as if to speak, and then seems to think better of it. Then he runs his fingers through his hair, a familiar gesture that tugs at me.
"Not now," I add on a small gasp, trying to soften my voice. I grip my fingers together in front of me, so he doesn't see them shaking.
"What do you mean?" His voice is hoarse.
His hand goes to the front of his pants to adjust himself, and I redden.
"Needed extra space," he mutters.
I almost laugh aloud, shuffling my feet, trying not to cross my legs to cover the wetness inside. I don't want him to see how difficult this is for me.
He pushes his hands into his jeans pocket, looking uncertain.
A first.
I've seen him aroused before, but not like this, not sensing this deep want tearing him apart. And I know then I need to get out of here. Fast.
"You need money for your new venture," I say.
