Fourteen
Dalton frowned. One minute, his ass. If she thought that was all the time he was going to get, then she was wrong. He had overheard the last part of her conversation with Coughlin. They were in the midst of making plans for hooking up later tonight. He shouldn’t really care what she did with her time, but it really irked him no end that she had no qualms about engaging in an illicit affair with Coughlin, but she flatly refused to give him the time of day. Or, preferably, her night. “I think we need to go somewhere and talk.”
They stood not even a foot away from each other, appearing to square off. He looked down into eyes that were usually dark brown. But tonight in the lanterns around the patio, they appeared a stormy gray. “What on Earth do we have to talk about, Dalton?”
“We need to discuss what you told me last night about your interest in finding the person who killed my mother.”
She glared at him. “Oh, you’re interested in that now, are you? Last night all you wanted to do was fuck me.”
He glared back. “Oh, don’t get me wrong. I still want to fuck you. But, at the moment, I want to hear what you have to say about finding my mother’s killer.”
“Too bad, because I don’t feel like talking.”
“Really? What’s wrong? A cat got your tongue?” he sneered, his gaze latching on to her mouth. Why did she have such a luscious pair of lips on that smart-ass mouth?
“Yes, I guess you can say the cat has my tongue,” she replied snippily.
Dalton didn’t like her attitude. Felt it needed adjusting. “Then by all means let me get your tongue back from the damned cat.” And then he drew her into his arms and lowered his mouth to hers.
*
Pleasure that Jules didn’t want...but definitely needed...filled her entire body the moment Dalton’s tongue slid inside her mouth. And just like the last time, she was consumed in a kiss that had her purring deep in her throat. But then, in a way, the kiss was different. More powerful. Carnal. Possessive. It was as if he were intentionally claiming a part of her while at the same time wiping her desire for any other man from her mind, soul and body.
Mentally, she tried fighting Dalton’s takeover of her senses but found herself sinking deeper and deeper into the kiss. She’d always enjoyed being kissed, and loved the feel of a man’s hand touching her backside while doing so. But Dalton wasn’t just touching it; he was artfully molding it to fit perfectly against his tall frame so she could feel certain parts of him...like his engorged penis. The size, the shape and the way it was pressing hard in the juncture of her thighs was incredible. It would be easy and pretty damned satisfying to reach out and lower his zipper and get what she wanted, just what she needed, to ease the ache that had been driving her to madness lately. The thought of brushing her fingertips across the swollen head of his penis before lifting her skirt and sliding down her panties so he could slide it inside her brought glints of sexual pleasure to eat away at her, causing a delicious shiver to cascade through her body.
To radiate this much mind-boggling power in a kiss was a gift few men possessed, and it was turning her into a wickedly wanton woman. She was beginning to lose her ever-loving mind and wasn’t certain she could turn back.
The clearing of someone’s throat was a harsh intrusion, and she pulled out of Dalton’s arms and looked over her shoulder to see Jace. “Excuse me, I hate to interrupt, but your father was looking for you, Jules. I think he’s about to leave and wanted to tell you good-night.” With that said, Jace turned and went back inside.