Page 44 of Mr. Scandalous

When he looked at her that way she felt like the sexiest woman on the planet. She inhaled sharply. He smelled of autumn and leather and just plain Alec. She smiled, charmed and disarmed.

And then, he was kissing her.

His lips caressed hers at an upward angle since she was positioned above him. The smooth glide of his tongue was faultless, neither too hesitant nor too demanding.

In fact it was a stupendous kiss, perfectly performed with Just the right amount of pressure, moisture and sexy sound.

The kiss soothed her nerves and vanquished any lingering qualms. The wind was a cool balm against her heated skin, and their combined fragrance an aroma of sweet pleasure.

Their tongues dueled. First, he was the conqueror and then she, until finally he won as his mouth muddled her senses. Arousal bloomed into a hot haze of estrogen, testosterone and adrenaline.

She closed her eyes and drifted away on a cloud of contentment. He kissed her as if he knew and understood every sexy thought that crossed her mind. Shamelessly she arched into his body and whimpered for much more than mere kisses.

Pushing aside the lapel of her duster, he pinched one of her straining nipples between a thumb and forefinger, sending skillful darts of pleasure shooting through her aching breast. This felt so good, so right, so perfect.

“Yes, yes!” She groaned. “This is exactly what I want.”

“Talk to me, sweetheart. Tell me everything.”

“You have the most gorgeous body,” Eden said. “I need to feel you inside me. Now!”

Her body ached and throbbed, ripe, revved and ready for him. She loved this. Loved driving him mad with desire. Loved seeing the expression of awe on his face. She, of the burn scars and unlived fantasies, was turning on this experienced, worldly guy.

Egged on, she panted, wriggled and moaned.

He stopped kissing her and she opened her eyes. His face was so close to hers, his gaze intense, sharp and hungry. The weight of his palm on her thigh had Eden catching her breath.

“How do you get this thing off?” He stroked the scoop neck of her bodysuit.

“You don’t.”

“Then how...?”

She leaned in close to his ear. “It’s crotchless.”

He shuddered, dipped his head and slid his mouth over her chin, and down her neck to the smooth hollow of her throat. His tongue strummed her flesh while his hair tickled the underside of her jaw.

His touch affected everything. The tickling made her squirm. The brush of his lips swept a burning itch over her collarbone. The steady vibration of his beating heart shook her bones. The bend of her elbows got sweaty. The back of her knees weakened and between her legs she was hot and wet and starving for attention.

She moaned and arched against him. “Hurry, stud. My curfew, remember. My old man will ground me for a week if I’m late.”

“You won’t be late.”

“Promise.”

“I’ll have you home in time.”

“Then you better get busy.”

“Hold on a minute. My seat belt is still buckled.”

She hadn’t even noticed the poke of cool metal in her side. She was too caught up in the magic. She moved away from him, rolling over the gear shift and settling back into her seat while he fumbled with the belt.

Her body pulsed and burned, alive with need and desire.

“Hurry! Hurry!” Before she lost her courage. Before she started thinking about worst-case scenarios.

Don’t think. Don’t think. Just feel.

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