Shiver : 13 Sexy Tales of Humor and Horror - Aurora Belle - Страница 68

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Her friends had set her up on dates, and she enjoyed getting dressed up and going to dinner or taking in a show. She even enjoyed some harmless flirting, but no one had made her pulse race or her mouth go dry. No one until this supposedly dull private eye who was looking down at her now and staring at her lips. Staring in a way that made her stomach do funny flips and her breath catch in her throat.

She looked up at him and bit her bottom lip.

He groaned and closed his eyes, then leaned his forehead against hers. “It kills me the way you bite your bottom lip like that. It makes your face go all sexy and has me imagining all sorts of things I would like to do to you to get you to make that face some more.”

She swallowed, and her nipples tightened as he leaned closer to her, pressing her back against the wall of the closet. “Yeah? Like what kind of things?”

He leaned down and nuzzled her neck, his breath hot as he ran his lips lightly along her skin. The light growth of whiskers along his chin scraped her neck and sent another shiver down her spine as she imagined those whiskers along the soft, sensitive skin of her inner thigh. His voice was quiet, teasing, as he spoke next to her ear. “You’re the psychic. Aren’t you supposed to already know?”

“Oh, you little brat.” She narrowed her eyes at him, good-naturedly laughing, and pushed gently against his chest. “You’re the private detective. Haven’t you deduced what I’m thinking? Or haven’t I given you enough clues?” She wiggled her hips against his, eliciting another groan of pleasure from him, and he pressed her tighter against the wall.

Where had this brazenly flirtatious vixen come from? She never talked to men like this. But she’d also never been pushed against a closet wall by a hunky detective on Halloween night. Maybe it was the holiday. Or the cycle of the moon. Or maybe it really was magic.

His response was a cross between a growl and a groan as he took her hand from his chest and lifted it above her head. Intertwining her fingers with his, he clasped her hand as he leaned down to kiss her. Easy and slow, taking his time, as if he were savoring the taste of her lips. He lightly raked his teeth along her bottom lip, and she moaned against his mouth.

He let go of her hand and ran his fingers lightly down her arm, along the side of her body, just grazing her breast as he went, and her insides clenched, aching with the need of this man’s touch. His hand traveled down her waist, over her hip, and he lifted her leg up and around him as he clasped her butt.

She pressed her body against him, pulling him closer with her leg and cursing the layers of clothes between them. She longed to have her skin bare against his, and contemplated the idea of getting naked on the floor of the closet.

What was wrong with her? She did not do closets, and she certainly didn’t get naked with men she barely knew. Men who flat out called her a kook and claimed she did hocus-pocus.

But Finn had also said that he liked her smile and that she made his stomach feel funny and that he ached to touch her. Holy Earth Mother. What woman could resist a man who said that he ached to touch her?

And even if her brain wouldn’t admit it, her body was most definitely telling her that she liked this man. Because her body was doing some aching of its own. Aching for his hands to pull her tighter against him, aching for the feel of his calloused palms against her stomach as he slid his fingers under the waistband of her jeans.

She was lost in his kiss, lost in his touch as his hands roamed her body. She arched against him, desperate to get closer, to feel every inch of him against her. She pulled back, her brain trying to make sense of this crazy passion she was feeling.

Her breath was ragged as she clutched him to her. “Finn, what are we doing? This is crazy.”

He tipped her chin up and looked down at her. “Honestly, I have no idea. I know it seems crazy, but it also seems exactly right. Like this stupid closet is exactly where I’m supposed to be. I always think with my head and do the rational thing, and everything about this is irrational and wild, and there’s this crazy side of me that’s wondering if you actually put a spell on me. But the other side of me doesn’t care. My heart tells me you are something special and that being with you is just where I’m supposed to be.”

She couldn’t swallow over the lump that had just formed in her throat. In fact, she couldn’t speak at all. She felt like laughing and crying at the same time. Tension swelled in her chest, and she felt as if her body might actually shatter. She gripped his shoulders as if he was a lifeboat and she was trying not to drown. Wetting her lips, she swallowed and whispered, “I’m scared.”

Finn reached up and slid his hand around her neck. He ran his thumb lightly across her cheek and smiled down at her. “Lady, you scare the hell out of me. My normal MO for Halloween night is watching a football game with a beer and a frozen pizza, and keeping the porch light out because I forgot to buy any stupid candy for the trick-or-treaters. My life is stable, ordinary, even—”

“Boring,” she finished for him with a wry grin.

“Yeah, boring. I do not do this kind of thing. I get nervous kissing a woman goodnight after a first date. But something is different with you. I feel like a horny teenager who can’t keep his hands to himself. I just want to touch you and taste you and feel you against me. Lord help me, it’s taking everything I have not to rip your clothes off and get you naked on this closet floor.”

He shook his head. “And that’s another crazy thing. I never talk like this. I think you must have put a spell on my tongue, because I keep saying out loud all the crazy things that are running through my head.”

He might be teasing her about putting a spell on his tongue, but she knew there had to be real magic in the air. His words were releasing the tight, hard ball in her chest, and she felt herself filling with a lightness she hadn’t known in years.

She knew this was a moment. One of those moments that you just needed to grab and hold on to. Forget that she was in a closet, with its weird shimmers of spiritual presence and concrete floor. Forget that she was supposed to stay strong and keep herself guarded from any kind of emotional attachment.

Forget all of that and just let go. Let go and trust Finn. She could protect her heart, stay closed off and remain alone, or she could give in and take a chance. Give in to the desires of her heart and the bone-deep need she had for this man.

Oh hell, she already had her leg wrapped around his waist — what was she waiting for? She reached up, driving her hands into his hair, and pulled his head down to hers, seizing his lips in an onslaught of fiery kisses. She poured every ounce of passion she was feeling into those kisses, holding nothing back, giving herself to him.

He reached down and lifted her, driving her back against the wall and cupping her bottom as she wrapped both legs tightly around his waist. His hands groped and squeezed, inflaming parts of her that had lain dormant, but now craved his touch. He held her up with one hand while his other skimmed her waist, sliding under her shirt and along her skin.

She arched her back, wanting to feel every part of him against her, and cursed the layers of clothing between them. He effortlessly unsnapped her bra. She gasped as he slid his hand under the lacy fabric and filled it with her breast. Her nipples pebbled into tight buds, aching with need, as he fondled and caressed.

She pulled up his shirt, desperate to touch him and reveling in the hard muscles of his chest. Knowing he had a loaded gun strapped to his shoulder only drove her wilder. He’d probably put the safety on, but not knowing upped the element of danger.

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