The surge of lightening that raced up her arm as he touched her, had her gasping and growing even more woozy.
“No worries, Jett,” Trask responded. He looked a little pained, but a lot resolute. “It’s really strange, but I’m, uh, actually kind of having the same reaction to you.”
“You are?” She gazed up at him with amazement, licking her lips.
Oh, hell yes, and she wasn’t about to squander the opportunity now that it had arisen. What would he say if…?
“How about I kiss you?” she dared.
She blinked as he reared back and shook his head.
“Crap. I took the lead on that one, didn’t I,” she stated, hoping he wasn’t going to do a runner.
“You did,” he confirmed with a growl. “And the answer is no. You can’t kiss me.”
Her stomach dropped.
“I’ll kissyou,” he snarled.
Instant disappointment morphed to giddy anticipation.
“Yes. Please,” she answered breathlessly, fixated on his mouth.
He could damned-well, one-hundred percent kiss her from here into next Tuesday.
“Eyes up here, airman,” he ordered, tapping the fine lines next to one of his compelling orbs.
Well, she certainly couldn’t deny him that, so she met his hot gaze with a scorching one of her own.
He groaned.
Or was it her?
Neither seemed to care as the space between them lessened.
Trask lowered his head slowly, then gave the lightest of brushes across her lips.
He tasted of mint, and coffee, and something darker she couldn’t name. Jett imagined it was his pheromones hard at work to make her panties drop.
Yes. Yes, would be the answer to that.
Then he pulled her in.
One hand went behind her head, and the other wound around her waist as he surrounded her with his bulk. She gasped at the firmness of his lips, unhesitating as they captured hers. Clearly, here was a man used to being in control, and she succumbed, giving herself over to whatever he wanted; opening when he demanded it, dueling with his tongue when he silently ordered the battle.
Crap, she immediately craved the man’s heat, but his enormous shearling coat was in the way.
As he continued to claim her mouth, her hands somehow wriggled their way between them and got busy withhisbuttons, and the zipper to her own, short jacket, until finally their combined bulk was gone and she was pressed fully up against his muscles.
Jett reveled in the hardness that was…everywhere as they devoured each other.Oh, yeah.She hadn’t missed the package down below that was damned impressive.
Who knew how long they would have gone on, if a shout hadn’t gone up from somewhere nearby.
They both raised their heads slowly, then heard several sharp barks.
“Crap. The dogs.” Jett gulped, doing her best to unwind her hands from the soft material of Trask’s waffle-knit Henley where they’d attached.
Trask’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he slowly—and seemingly reluctantly—backed off. “I guess a little of your hyper-focus must have rubbed off on me just then,” he quipped. “I wasn’t thinking about the dogs.”
