The hairs stood up on the back of her neck, alerting her she wasn' t alone. Turning, she was rattled to see Roarke leaning with his shoulder against the doorframe, Sinnjinn weaving around his legs. Relaxed, as if he belonged here.
She stared at one drop-dead, sexy man. The jeans lovingly encased his strong thighs, and the black shirt, buttoned just once, was a slight shade tighter across the shoulders and chest. It was almost reassuring to see it didn't fit him to perfection.
That small comfort was quickly replaced with something more disturbing―a stirring of her libido. She hadn't made love with a man since Derek's death. That part of her died with him on that wet, lonely road―she'd thought.
Now, she was awakening to life and she wanted this man with every fiber in her pores, craved him with a force she found crippling. Her breasts grew heavy, tightening, pushing against the dampness of her bra. She attempted to swallow the knot in her throat. It didn't budge.
He came to her and took her wrist, then tugged the sweater from her grasp. Rooted to the floor, Ciara told herself to breathe as she fought against the waves of his intoxicating heat, his haunting scent. Images flashed through her. His hands grabbing hold of her derriиre and lifting her, her legs wrapping around those strong, lean hips. Of his mouth feasting on her neck, taking her lips in a no-holds-barred kiss that'd fry her mind
And she'd let him. Encourage him. There wasn't a bone in her body that would offer resistance. All she had to do was take one little step toward him. Supercharged by his potent male pheromones, singed by how he turned her on, Roarke made her feel alive for the first time in years.
Just & one & little & step...