“I’m sure,” she murmured back. “I don’t know what this is, but I’m not toying with you.” The last bit of distance between them disappeared as she pressed her lips to his.
She nibbled at his lips. His resulting groan sent shivers through her body.
When she nipped at his lower lip, his mouth opened and she took full advantage. Her lips slanted over his and her tongue darted inside to tangle with his.
His hands were warm against her back. One inched under the hem of her running shirt. His fingertips teased along the sensitive skin of her lower back.
One particularly delicate caress tickled and she gasped and arched into him. The move pressed her breasts into his chest.
His hands slid down her back to cup her butt and she practically purred. His fingers curled into the taut muscle compressed by her pants and he lifted her.
“Wow,” she murmured. Her legs curled around his hips and her arms tightened around his neck. Then they were moving.
Portia didn’t care where he was taking her. She only wanted more. More kisses. More of his strength pressed against her.
She didn’t know how they made it to the couch without him running into anything, but they did. His hands shifted to the backs of her thighs and she released her legs from behind his back. He lowered them down to the sofa.
Her knees bracketed his and sank into the soft cushions. The position aligned her center with his hard length.
Remembering how he had felt inside her, she rocked against him. Her running tights were skintight, a barely-there barrier between them.
His hands cupped her ass again, presser her closer to his erection. Aleks tore his mouth from hers. She moaned in frustration.
His responding chuckle was sin personified. He nibbled along her jawline, then dragged his tongue over the tendons in her neck.
Her fingers curled into his shoulders and she arched back, giving him access to the sensitive skin of her neck.
He pressed kisses along her clavicle and then to the bare skin above her top. Her head dropped back in pleasure and her brain short-circuited.
He raised one hand and gently cupped her right breast. His thumb brushed over her nipple again and again, stimulating it to a stiff peak. Her breasts pressed against—strained against—the compression of her sports bra and she whimpered.
“You okay?” His words fluttered over damp skin, pebbling her skin with goosebumps.
“Uh-huh.” How was she supposed to answer when he wasn’t kissing her any longer?
Trusting him to hold her in place, she released her grip on his shoulders and instead tightened her grip on his shirt. Gathering up the fabric by the handful, she bared his whole back.
He lifted his head from her chest and reached one hand behind his neck to grab the material. In one smooth move, he pulled his shirt up and over his head. Her body quivered when he removed it completely.
The man was built. Firm chest muscles dusted lightly with hair that narrowed to a thin trail over rock-hard abs.
Portia hummed in approval and leaned into him again. Her lips met the curve of his neck and she inhaled. He smelled good. Like man and sweat and a hint of cologne or deodorant. Whatever it was, he smelled so good. She buried her face against his neck.
His hands skimmed up her sides, lifting her shirt as they moved. Echoing his earlier move, she sat up and let him free her from the fabric.
Aleks’s gaze dropped to her newly revealed flesh. Heat flared in his eyes. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he growled. His hands cupped and molded her breasts.
His mouth dropped to her cleavage, made more plentiful by her bra. He pressed open-mouthed kisses against her skin while his thumbs teased over her nipples.
She wanted him closer. Skin to skin. But there was no sexy way out of her sports bra. Dammit!
Frustrated and turned on, she was trying to figure out how to get out of her damn bra when his phone rang.
“Ignore it,” she whispered, then nipped his earlobe.
The phone trilled again. And again.
“I can’t,” he finally gasped. “It’s work.”
