Free Deadly Sins by Lora Leigh Page B

it.”
    As though he needed something or someone to claim.
    And Logan knew he didn’t. He didn’t dare.
    “You would never make one night with me enough,” she repeated her warning, her eyes spitting back at him furiously. “What kind of game are you playing? You warn me off, then jerk me in your house as though you have no other choice but to fight with me over a dog we both know you want. You want that damned dog almost as bad as you want me in your bed. Why, Logan? Why can’t you have either of us?”
    “Because I don’t dare.”
    As he stared into her wide, surprised gaze Logan realized he’d wanted her since that first glimpse he’d had of her. And he shouldn’t. That small taste he’d had of her last week as he held her beneath that tree hadn’t been nearly enough.
    He shouldn’t want her, but he craved her. Craved her with a need that made no sense and a sudden, overwhelming hunger that he couldn’t seem to control.
    And maybe she was right. One night would never be enough. But they would both pay for it.
    “Are you waiting on your common sense to return again?” she whispered, her fingers gripping the tops of his biceps, kneading them.
    She wasn’t protesting or pushing him away. She wasn’t fighting it. But he was, with every ounce of control he was fighting it, and he was losing.
    Her fingers were kneading the tensed muscles of his biceps. Straight little nails nipping into the hard flesh covering them and sending sparks of fiery sensation straight to his balls.
    “Hell if I know.” He was trying to stop himself. “I didn’t show any last time. Why should I do it now?”
    There was no way to stop what he knew he was about to do.
    Holding her gaze, drawn by her, feeling as though he was held to her by chains as invisible and yet as tight as any made by man, Logan knew he was doomed.
    His head lowered, his lips touching hers, feeling them part, feeling the silk and heat, the tremble of hunger. As he watched the darkening of her gaze and the flutter of her lashes as they drifted closed, he knew he was a goner.
    He’d fantasized about fucking her for months. Hell, he had so many scenarios in his head that sometimes he thought he could fuck her for a decade and never experience all of them.
    But this one he’d never envisioned.
    This one he’d never allowed himself to have because he’d known what it would do to him. The very thought of having her, here in his home, where he would never eradicate her memory, did things to him he couldn’t consider.
    A flood of sensation seemed to wrack his body as every muscle tightened furiously. Slowly, exquisitely slowly, her lips parted further, accepting the intimacy of his tongue with tentative excitement as he licked against hers.
    Her hands stroked over his shoulders, her breathing becoming hitched as her heart pounded as furiously as his. Tightening his grip on her hips, he dragged her closer, lifting her. Pulling her against his body. Running his hands to the luscious curves of her ass, he had to hold back a groan of sheer male hunger. Gripping, lifting her before he could stop himself, Logan had her on the center island and her legs curled around his hips as he pushed the hardened ridge of his cock against the heated, wet warmth between her thighs.
    She was short, curvy, delicate as hell, and he fit between her thighs perfectly. Pushing the thin, incredibly soft fluff of her gown and robe over her hips, he groaned in need, and realization.
    She wore no panties.
    His hands slid beneath the material to her back.
    God, she was killing him with this need for her.
    His dick was throbbing in a little happy dance that was driving him insane as she pressed more firmly against him.
    The rasp of denim against the sensitive engorged head of his cock became an erotic agony. He wanted to slide his hardened flesh into her soft, liquid heat. And it was liquid. That sweet syrup was flowing from her, preparing her, and dampening his jeans.
    The need to fuck her was a