Читать книгу Immortal Redeemed - Linda Thomas-Sundstrom - Страница 12
ОглавлениеMcKenna’s moan of pleasure stuck in her throat. Her arms dropped to the bed as if she’d been released from a trance. Opening her eyes, she found the auburn-haired stranger looking down at her.
His eyes were luminous. His shiny hair, lightened by streaks of gold, was just long enough to fall becomingly across his forehead. There was no upward curve to the lips she wanted to curse for being so inviting. He was serious now.
Her first instinct was to shy away from the intensity of his penetrating gaze. But there was more exploration to come. She and this man were only in the starting gate. Both of them were shirtless but still wearing their pants.
Wait. Could that be right?
In spite of finding herself half-dressed, McKenna believed that she’d been naked in his arms and fucked to within an inch of her life just minutes ago. The soreness of a long, drawn-out sexfest was there, deep inside her, aching, throbbing. Her thighs quaked with leftover need.
Of course, being almost fully clothed would have prevented any of that, so how could she have thought otherwise? She had to have been hallucinating. Wishing.
Her voice wasn’t quite even when she spoke. “I thought we just...that we...”
“Only the beginning,” he promised in a tone as thick as hers.
Wary of losing track of events that couldn’t have been more than a few moments long, McKenna made herself speak again. “I have a confession to make. I’m afraid that if you’re good enough to make me imagine we’ve gotten to know each other a whole lot better without actually doing so, I truly might not be ready for the real thing.”
He nodded. “We have a connection.”
“You think?”
“My confession is that I find you irresistible, McKenna.”
“You don’t have to flatter me. I’m already right here, on this bed.”
“What if I speak the truth?”
“Then I’d have to ask what’s stopping you from taking what you want right now, and then see what answer you come up with.”
“I’m savoring the moment,” he said.
“Take your time. After all, I did just embarrass myself, didn’t I, by jumping the gun? I suppose that says something about my love life, or the lack of it.”
His brow furrowed. “I can’t imagine why there isn’t a man here, waiting for you.”
“I guess it’s because I have standards.”
He nodded. “Then I’m honored to be here now. And I find your honesty refreshing.”
“Yes, that’s exactly what a girl wants to hear while lying in bed with a man. That she’s refreshing.”
The remark resulted in a smile that was as dazzling as the rest of him. Because of it, McKenna’s mind began a new internal dialogue warning her about truly not being ready for this caliber of man.
His hand was very close to her private parts. One move of her hips and he’d find out just how much she wanted this.
He didn’t make that move.
“You can leave whenever you want to,” she said, testing his intentions. “There were no promises here.”
“Did I say anything about leaving?”
“No, but I thought I’d get that out, up front.”
“Actually, I’m fairly sure there were promises, and I rarely go back on mine.”
“Promises? Such as?”
“Mouths meeting. Bodies merging. Two lost souls finding each other.”
“That’s deep,” McKenna said. “And maybe too advanced for the possibility of an hour together in my bedroom.”
“I’m a man of high hopes.” He withdrew his hand and reached to the bedside table to turn off the light.
Darkness fell, but there was just enough light coming in from the streetlights for McKenna to make out her lover’s sculpted silhouette. She mourned the loss of his baby blue gaze.
The mattress creaked beneath his weight as he shifted closer. Uncontrollably drawn to him, with a real need to explore what was so damn fine, McKenna’s hands went to his chest. There she found the heat she knew would greet her, and she relished the burn.
The face she had thought angelic was close enough for her to feel his breath on her cheek. She turned her head toward him to offer easy access.
Sensation had tripled in the dark, awakened by anticipation. He swept her hair back from her face with his fingers, and she quivered. When he brushed her lips with his, without lingering, she wanted to break the standoff and tug him closer.
“Damn you,” she whispered for what had to be the tenth time. Giving in to her body’s demands, she reached for his shoulders.
“Soon,” he whispered, his husky tone hurling more flames in her direction.
He felt solid, hard, as his body rolled onto hers, spread-eagle on the bed. There was only the briefest time to recognize how well they fit together and how good being beneath him felt.
He didn’t have to move to let her know that he shared her excitement. His stiffness in all the right places made that perfectly clear. His hard length, and the friction of being pants to pants below the waist and skin to skin above, was a sensation like no other.
It would have been lying to say she hadn’t known how good this would be.
McKenna stifled another moan when his lips feathered across her left cheek in a downward path that would lead to her throat. His next move was a soft bite to a supersensitive spot below her ear. He did the same thing again a bit lower, and afterward placed a kiss in the valley between her breasts.
She was coming unglued. Her heart could not have beat harder. Catching her breath was a chore. She shook like a schoolgirl, fearing to move, not wanting to lose one gloriously sexy, unbelievably scary minute.
When his mouth grazed the lace covering her breasts, McKenna shoved her fingers into his hair. Her treacherous legs opened, urged into moving by the swift rise of another far-off internal beat that was pounding her insides to a pulp.
Hot breath on her nipples...
The sensation of her lacy bra being removed by the guy’s strong hands...
Followed by a flick of his tongue over one raised pink bud.
She could not remain still. Can’t.
This was too much. And too little.
“What are you waiting for?” she demanded breathlessly, the question loud in the darkened room.
“This,” he replied, dragging his mouth to the other breast, where he closed his lips over that swollen tip of her raised flesh.
McKenna bucked beneath him. Her hands fisted in his hair.
God...
He stroked a hand over her jeans, over the sweet spot pulsing between her legs as he first licked, then lightly suckled her. Shudders of delight shot through her. His mouth was crazy hot.
Did he make a sound? Could the cry have been hers?
“Can’t wait much longer,” she whispered.
“We might have to,” he warned as his hand stopped moving and the sound of knocking filled the room.
McKenna heard little over the sound of her own harsh breathing, but quickly realized that those knocking sounds weren’t due to the pounding of her heart. They came from the door.
In the most untimely interruption imaginable, someone wanted in.
* * *
Kellan swore beneath his breath and lifted his head. Drawing back, he sat up and looked to McKenna. “You were expecting company?”
“No.”
He believed her. Using his extraordinary senses, he perceived that this visitor was a man. Presumably the elusive Detective Miller.
It was likely that the officers at the crime scene they’d visited earlier had told Miller about them. It was also a good bet that the phone call McKenna made to the police department had been forwarded.
Maybe the idea of McKenna on a Harley was grounds enough for the detective to assume this was an emergency.
“Mac?” the newcomer called out softly between knocks. “McKenna? Are you there?”
“He’ll go away,” McKenna said, her body motionless on the lavender-scented sheets.
Kellan perched on the edge of the mattress, waiting for McKenna’s next instructions and wondering what this detective meant to her. Friend? More than that? There was a new tension in the room that suggested lover. Was that title current, though, or a detail from McKenna’s past?
When the knock came again, a jolt of anger hit Kellan. This was his time with McKenna. The importance of his agenda could not be overstated. He and the woman beside him had already opened a physical dialogue that might lead to the success of his mission. After all these years, he had also been enjoying himself.
“He won’t like finding you here,” McKenna said. She was looking to the door.
“Does he have a key?”
“Yes, but he won’t use it. Not now, without my permission.”
A liaison in the past tense, then?
“You don’t think being seen with me tonight might be considered cause for concern?” Kellan suggested.
“There’s always that,” she conceded.
The knocks ceased for several seconds before the doorknob turned. Kellan stood as the sound of a key grated in the lock. Gracefully, quickly, with McKenna’s welfare in mind, he moved toward his shirt.
