Page 22 of Tempted By December

"If one of them isn't Alaric Parrish, I'm hanging up on you," my sister says.

He turns as if he knows we're talking about him. Our eyes lock across the room. His are so warm, so full of concern and something deeper. Affection. Desire. Love? He didn't say it back earlier, but I think maybe he feels the same hot rush of emotion that I do. I think he's bound in the same net with me, connected to me in ways neither of us fully understands.

This man feels me in his soul, the same way I feel him in mine.

I cup my hand around the phone and whisper, "One of them is Alaric."

"Yes!" Jillian shouts.

Alaric arches a brow, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"I'll call you tomorrow."

"Love you."

"Love you too."

I disconnect as Alaric strides across the living room toward me, still wearing that sexy smirk.

"Jillian?" he asks.

I nod, bending to set my phone on the coffee table.

He stops in front of me. "You told her you'd call her tomorrow."

"I did," I whisper, my heart beating so loud I'm sure he hears it.

"Does this mean you're staying here tonight, angel?" His gaze runs across my face, full of hope.

"Well, that depends."

"On what?" he growls.

"On whether your invitation from last night still stands." I lick my lips, trying to work moisture back into my mouth. "Because I decided what I want from you, Alaric."

"Yeah?" His hand curves around my hip, pulling me closer. "What's that, temptress?"

"You," I whisper. "I just want you."

"Fuck." Heat flares as bright as the sun in his eyes, scorching me as he yanks me closer. I topple into him, and his hands tangle in my hair, craning my head back.

"I'm already yours, December. I've just been waiting for you to realize it." His mouth slants down on mine, claiming mine in a kiss that soothes all the jagged edges of my heart, stitching them back together.

I grasp his shoulders, trying to hold myself upright as my knees tremble beneath me, threatening to give out. Our tongues dance together, and reality spins away, taking everything but him with it.

"Alaric," I whisper, trying to tell him how good he makes me feel. But I think he already knows.

He bends slightly, scooping me into his arms. Somehow, he manages to keep kissing me the whole time, as if he can't stop himself. There's so much power in him, so much need, and I've finally given him permission to unleash it on me.

He stumbles into the wall on the way up the stairs, growling against my lips as his hands slip beneath my shirt. I moan at the electric feel of his skin against mine, already dancing a knife's edge of need. He makes me feel so much. It's overwhelming and addicting at the same time.

"Yes," I whisper as he pins me to the wall halfway up the staircase to drag my shirt off over my head.

His hands close over my breasts, pushing them together. His dark eyes meet mine as he dips his head. His teeth close around my right nipple.

"Alaric!" I sob in ecstasy, caught in his wicked gaze. "Oh, God."

His lips curve into a smile that's pure sin. "Oh, angel." He tugs my bra down to expose my breasts. "One day soon, I'm going to put clamps on these perfect little things to see how wild I can drive you."

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