Ah damn! This wasn’t what he expected. Still, nothing much had happened … yet.
His hands weren’t paying much attention to his head. They shifted from her hips down to encounter the firm curves of her ass. He could feel the heat of her through her clothing, and wanted more. His hands slid up, his fingers slipping under the hem of her sweater, and found the warm soft skin of her back.
What the hell?
He turned his head and slanted his mouth across hers, giving in to the impulse to see just how far she’d go. Because, deep down, he’d been fighting his attraction to her since he walked in her door.
Shay didn’t retreat. She reached for his shirt jacket and pushed it back over his shoulders. Then she was pulling at his Henley, trying to get it up out of his pants.
She felt him shiver as she ran her hands under his shirtfront and over the warm contours of his chest. The crisp hair she’d longed to touch earlier tickled her palms. She heard a little sigh escape him as she walked her fingers down his ribs and smiled under his kiss. The man who’d been in control of every encounter between them so far didn’t feel so much in control at the moment. The heavy thud of his heart under her palm said he was far from it.
That made her want to push him further.
She slid her hands up to his nipples, hard little nubs that grazed her palms, and plucked them with her fingers. This time he sucked in a quick breath. And then he took charge. One hand moved from her back, down over the full curves of her butt, fingers flexing to cup her low. He pulled her to him in a quick motion that spread her breasts across the hard planes of his chest and her sex against the proof of his arousal.
Things became pretty chaotic after that. She jerked his shirt off and then she lost her sweater and jeans as he waltzed her backward toward the nearby sofa, all the while connected by hot wet kisses. It was like a struggle with only one goal, mutual satisfaction.
When they reached the sofa, he sat back, pulling her down with him. She threw a leg over his thighs and sank down onto his lap, all the while never losing their lip-to-lip connection.
Mind smoked by the heat of lust, James retained just enough police discipline to remember his weapon. He reached behind his back, found the gun tucked into the holster at the small of his back. He pulled it out and reached as far away as possible to tuck it barrel down between the cushion and the arm of the couch.
He saw her eyes widen as she followed his actions, and when she looked again at him, there was a question there. He’d seen the question before, in other women’s eyes. Some were excited by the fact that he carried a gun. Others found it a complete turnoff. He couldn’t gauge Shay’s response, only that she had one.
After a second she looked down.
Operating strictly on autopilot, because his head was now definitely in his pants, he leaned forward and whispered against her ear. “Shay?”
“What?” She looked up at him. Those autumn eyes of hers were smoked by desire but her expression was now guarded.
“We can stop right here.”
Caution turned to misery, the sexual flush in her face fading. Her response wasn’t even a question. “Don’t you want to?”
Hell yeah! his dick demanded.
His head told him not to give in to the urge to lick the drop of sweat streaking into the deep cleft between her breasts. White cotton had never looked so naughty as it did cupping her breasts. As it was, his zipper was going to leave teeth tracks in his shaft if he didn’t release it soon.
He cupped her face in his hands and lifted her face up so that she had to look at him. “I’m there. If this is what you really want.”
Shay didn’t want to think about want. She could only feel. And what she felt was the frantic feminine need to screw the balls off this man. And that frightened her.
She closed her eyes. This was stupid! Another mistake! But she’d made so many, what was one more?
When she looked again she saw the expression of a man ready for sex and hoping like hell he was about to get it.
James went perfectly still under her glare, his cock throbbing in insistent need in time with his heartbeat.
She did not move away. The warm damp seat of her panties pressed against his groin. The heat of her crotch caressed his dick through his jeans. It was a risqué position for a woman who a second ago was about to screw him six ways from Sunday but now looked like she wanted to extract his tonsils without administering anaesthetic.
Shay reached down between them and brushed her hand with slow deliberation across his turgid fly. “This is not any rescued-damsel-in-distress thank-you bullshit. Okay?”
“Got it.” The only distress she seemed to be in was over the decision of whether to throttle him or screw him. By the expression on her face, the outcome was still up in the air.