Читать книгу Midnight Madness - Karen Kendall - Страница 9

KISS HIM? Marly stared at Jack. If you feel nothing, then I’ll walk right out of here and I won’t bother you again.

The problem was that she knew she was going to feel something—already did, as he approached her with only the barest minimum of a question in his eyes. Mostly what was in them was the calm certainty of an alpha male about to take possession of something he wanted. And even though she resented being the object of that possessive gaze, a frisson of excitement flashed through her, too.

Jack reached her within three steps and caught her chin in his hands, angling his head over hers.

She closed her eyes, still thinking, No, I’m not doing this. But then she was. His lips touched hers and a hot streak of lightning hit her in the gut. Shocked, she half pulled away, but his hands still cupped her jaw. He looked into her eyes, slowly and deliberately, and then kissed her again, this time deeply.

Her mouth parted under his and the electricity licked at her gut again as he explored her mouth with his tongue, moved his hands into her hair and pulled it loose. His fingers were heaven on her scalp and at the sensitive skin of her neck. Her nerve endings tingled and sent a deep shiver of pleasure along her spine. He dropped his hands to her waist and hauled her against him so that her breasts flattened against the wall of his chest.

Her nipples tautened almost painfully and heat rushed through her as Jack stroked her tongue with his own and then gently bit her lower lip. She tried to stroke his jaw, his ears—but he grabbed her wrists, pinning them behind her with one hand and backed her against the wall.

Then he devoured her again. When he raised his head and gazed down at her, the look in his eyes wasn’t remotely civilized. His pupils had enlarged and his irises had gone smoky, not quite focused. His breathing shallow, he still managed to get one word out. “Damn,” said The Hammer, his voice rough. “You are The One.”

She was tempted to believe him, but it was just too easy. She opened her mouth to speak but he plundered it again, stealing her breath and whatever words had been on the tip of her tongue. He bruised her lips and licked her clean of logic or thought. He left nothing but her response to him.

And when next he raised his head, she could only stare at him. Jack stared back. Then, eyes heavy-lidded with desire, he traced one thumb over her right nipple.

If he hadn’t still been holding her wrists, she might have slid boneless down the wall.

Her expression, her tiny catch of breath, must have told him all he needed to know. Because before she could even process what was happening, he had her tank tops bunched under her armpits and he’d fastened his mouth over her bare nipple.

This time her knees refused to support her and only his hand locked around her wrists and the muscular thigh he jammed between her legs held her up. She sucked in oxygen in a long, ragged breath.

Jack’s tongue slid over and around the pink bud, while Marly closed her eyes and let the room fall away. Sensations rushed from her breasts to the juncture of her thighs and back again, losing her in a Bermuda Triangle of desire.

Kiss? This was no ordinary average kiss. This was a full-on sensual assault.

“You’re crazy beautiful,” Jack murmured, and then took her other nipple into his mouth. She sagged again onto his thigh and gave herself to pleasure.

When he raised his head and looked into her eyes again, she could only blink stupidly at him.

“Have dinner with me, Marly.”

It wasn’t a question, it was a command. And even though she hated being told what to do, even though she wore Rebel blue toenail polish, she nodded her head. “Okay, Jack. I’ll have dinner with you.”

HE WAS GREATLY relieved at her answer. His response to Marly Fine ricocheted off the charts. The way her lips yielded to his, the feel of her in his arms, the scent of her hair and the taste of her skin—in combination, it was enough to make a man lose his mind. There was something exotic and untamed about her that quickened his blood and drove him to possess her. If that was primitive and not politically correct, too bad. He literally ached to have her, to drive into that lithe, sweet body of hers.

But Jack got control over himself and straightened her clothes, even though what he wanted to do was to rip them off her and keep her naked for all time, preferably swimming in a vat of warm baby oil….

Her dark hair framed her face and hung down her back. God, he loved her hair free and flowing over her shoulders. He loved the fact that she didn’t seem to wear any makeup besides a little lip gloss—which, thanks to him, wasn’t there any longer. Her lips swollen and her nipples plainly visible even through two layers of fabric, she looked like a gorgeous Gypsy, one that he’d follow anywhere.

“Which evening are you free?” he asked. “Is tomorrow too soon?”

She tucked the loose tendrils of hair behind her ears and put an index finger to her lips, tracing them as he had done with his tongue. “Yes. Tomorrow is too soon.” She was going to see her parents over the weekend. “I need some time to…How about Tuesday?”

Tuesday he was supposed to be at a charity dinner to raise money for further diabetes research. But without any hesitation Jack said, “Tuesday is perfect. Pick you up at eight?” He’d paid five hundred dollars for the privilege of being bored stiff all night. They had his money already, so should he feel guilty for feeling a stomach virus coming on? Nah.

She nodded. “Um, so…is this a double date?” She gestured at the door behind her. “I mean, will the boys be coming along?”

Jack frowned and shrugged apologetically. “It’s hard for me to dodge security. But I’ll tell you what, I’ll make sure they’re either out in the car or at a table across the restaurant, okay?”

An evil impulse sparkled in her eyes. “Would they like dates? One of them seemed impressed with Shirlie’s…attributes. And we have a very cute single manicurist here, too. Or if one of them swings the other way, I’m sure our stylist Nicky would be happy to—”

His lips twitched. “Maybe next time.” He looked regretfully at his watch. “I’m going to have to go—I have a speech to make to a young Republicans group.”

Marly wrinkled her nose and seemed about to make a caustic comment, but he put his hand out, palm up. “Hey, I know what you’re going to say. But it’s better for kids to be politically active early and learn that they can make a difference. Don’t you think Republicanism is better than utter apathy?”

She looked undecided at that, and Jack laughed. “I’m going to teach you the upside of conservative politics before we’re through, Marly.”

“Yeah? How do you know that I won’t impart the wisdom of liberal thinking to you, instead?”

She looked so fierce and yet so adorably kissable. “Well,” he said with caution, “I foresee a lot of spirited discussions ahead.”

She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes.

“Better not puff your mouth up like that or I’ll kiss it right off,” Jack told her, moving toward the door. They now both looked presentable enough to finally open it.

“You like the silver in your hair?”

He nodded. “I do. Well, as much as I can like the concept of doing anything to my hair. It’s a pain in the ass and isn’t exactly a manly sport. But thank you—that was a good recommendation.” He hesitated. “So, will you give me your phone number before I leave?”

“I’ll be here, mostly. So just call After Hours.”

Interesting. She was still keeping him at arm’s length, even after that kiss. She didn’t want to give up any more personal information—not that he couldn’t get her number through back channels quite easily if he tried. But he wanted her to give it to him herself.

“All right then,” he said, trying to dismiss the kernel of disappointment. “I’ll call you.”

She nodded and he walked out.

He’d no sooner gotten into the car than Turls was on his case via cell phone. “Hi, Turly.” Her fussy tones made him smile.

“You will recall, I’m sure, sir, that it is Miss Hilliard’s birthday in two weeks.”

Was it? He’d forgotten. “You’re right—it is her birthday in two weeks.”

“And I’m sure, sir, that you’ve already had the fore-thought to buy her a gift?”

She knew very well that he hadn’t. “Turls,” he lied, “I’ve been racking my brain for days, and I can’t think of what to get her. I’m a guy. We’re not good at this type of thing.”

“Would you like me to find something for you, sir?”

“Yes, that would be fabulous—you know Carol’s taste better than I do. What would I do without you, Turls?”

“I’m sure I don’t know, sir. By the way, you do have Miss Hilliard’s party marked on your calendar? It’s coming up.”