Free The Winner Takes It All (A Something New Novel) by Jennifer Dawson Page A

impossible. “You’re so . . . so . . . good at that.”
    He laughed, moving to the other breast and bathing it with his tongue until the fabric was wet against her skin. Then he raised his head and captured her lips in a brutal kiss.
    It was demanding. Arrogant. Possessive.
    And so right. So perfect.
    She threw away what little reserve she still maintained and abandoned herself to him.
    And it was glorious.
    His hand went to her thigh. Squeezed, then moved between her legs. He groaned, breaking the kiss long enough to murmur, “So fucking wet.”
    Pure sensation had her belly dipping and pulling tight.
    He stroked her clit. His rhythm a slow tease that made her want to scream.
    She bit his lower lip, scraping her teeth against him as her hips rose to meet his hands.
    “Please,” she whispered, needing more.
    “What do you want?”
    “You,” she said simply.
    He groaned, and his knuckles brushed against her aching flesh as he went for his zipper.
    Yes, oh yes. It was wild and crazy. Not like her at all, but she just didn’t care. She reached for him, desperate to help, because he couldn’t move fast enough.
    And then the kitchen door flew open and someone flicked on the light.

Chapter Six
    Shane blinked against the brightness, rushing back from all that lust and heat. He zipped his half-open fly and covered Cecilia’s spectacular thighs, his blood still a heavy rush in his ears. He whipped around, standing in front of her to shield her from the intruder.
    An amused James stood there in a rumpled T-shirt and shorts.
    Shane’s hands curled into fists. Shane wanted to take him out. Right here. Right now.
    Behind him, the sound of silk rustled as she slid off the counter.
    Shane wanted to punch someone—namely his brother—but he settled for yelling, “What the fuck do you want?”
    Cecilia stepped out from behind him, her long, lean body wrapped in her robe. She clutched the lapels closed at her throat, but it didn’t do any good. Her hair framed her face in a wild mess of tangles, her lips were swollen and pink, and her cheeks flushed.
    James laughed, ending in a fake cough at Cecilia’s fierce glare. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
    “You didn’t,” Cecilia said, her tone as cool as ever. As though she hadn’t been burning him up a minute ago. “There’s nothing to interrupt.”
    Shane ran a hand through his hair and glowered at his brother. “Would you get the hell out of here?”
    “No, no.” She skirted away, pulling her robe tighter around her like a shield. “I’m leaving. I need to go to . . . um . . . sleep.”
    “Sure, sleep,” James said, unable to hide his shit-eating grin.
    Shane wanted to grab her by the arm and insist she stay put but thought better of it. The moment was gone and he still didn’t know what the hell happened. Had he really been about to bend her over the table? He’d only meant to kiss her, tease her a little bit. He’d thought he’d have to coax a response out of her. Damned if that theory hadn’t been blown straight to hell.
    Jesus. Fucking. Christ.
    She smoothed her hair, refusing to look at his brother. “I was, just . . .” She turned toward the door. “Getting a glass of water.”
    She bumped into the chair, stumbling.
    Shane lunged forward, catching her as she swayed on her feet. “Hey, easy.”
    She yanked away, flushing ten shades of scarlet. “Oops, silly me.”
    Then she practically ran from the room.
    It was the first time he’d ever seen her flustered and he couldn’t deny his amusement, or that he wanted to see her that way a hell of a lot more.
    The door swung closed and he crossed his arms and glared at his brother. “You are a dead man.”
    James grinned, holding up his hands in surrender. “Look, this is not my fault. I mean, hell, when I left you were deep into e-mail. How could I have anticipated this?”
    Disgusted, Shane shook his head.
    He’d been so close.
    If James hadn’t interrupted he’d be inside her right now.