Free Rebel with a Cause by Natalie Anderson Page B

polished wooden hallway.
    â€˜It’s okay.’ He wasn’t that hungry anyway. Not for food.
    â€˜I cheated and picked up some stuff from the deli.’ She led him to the dining area. ‘Thought we could snack.’
    â€˜Sure.’ He looked at the table. She’d unloaded the deli pots into pretty little dishes. Floral. Heaven help him. Fragile fine bone china. That was her all over.
    She was watching him, a knowing look in her eyes that unsettled him more. ‘You’re not having regrets already?’
    â€˜I don’t do regrets. Why, do you?’
    She shook her head. ‘New Year’s resolution not to.’
    Yeah, right. ‘You’ve never done anything to regret, have you?’ He couldn’t hold back the bitter note of accusation.
    â€˜You think?’ She stepped up to him. ‘I’m no angel, Lorenzo.’ She leaned forward and whispered, ‘And I’m no virgin. You’re not going to hurt me.’
    He swallowed. For someone who’d said she’d never done this before, she was holding her own. So the snacking could wait a while. There was something far more pressing to be done. He lifted a hand and stroked her hair, gathered a lock and ran his finger and thumb along the length of it. He tugged gently, straightening the curl at the bottom. When he let it go it bounced right back. ‘So you’re sure.’
    A look of irritation crossed her face. ‘You know I am. You’re here, I’m here. End of conversation.’
    He laughed inwardly. It seemed he wasn’t the only one to have been dreaming of this for too long. He watched her, waited and soon saw the slight nervousness steal into her eyes, despite her words. She’d taken a smidge of her lower lip between her teeth, he could see her biting hard on it. And she was staying very, very still—waiting.
    He leaned forward and so slowly, so gently caught that lower lip between his own teeth. She gasped, freeing it so it was his. He sucked on it, let his tongue run over the swell of soft flesh. She opened for him completely—and they hurtled straight back into the red-hot kiss of earlier.Her hands lifted to his shoulders; he liked the feel of them, he liked the feel of her hips digging into him too. It was as if every where they touched the power surged, pulsing between them.
    He broke free, determined to slow it down. ‘You don’t want to eat first?’
    â€˜Can’t you just shut up and get on with it?’ She thrust against him again. ‘Anyone would think you’re stalling.’
    He looked at the gleam in her eyes. The nerves had gone. She was enjoying being provocative now. And she wanted it fast. Too bad. She’d told him the truth earlier. She wasn’t a one-night-only girl. Not before now.
    â€˜What’s wrong?’ he asked bluntly. ‘Why do you want it to be over so quick?’ Did she want it done and then him leave inside the hour? Like some naughty fantasy that she could tell herself wasn’t really real?
    Not happening. If she wanted it, then she was getting it—one whole night. And one night didn’t mean once only. And it certainly didn’t mean quick.
    She didn’t answer, had fallen silent, breathless as she leaned her lower belly against him. He under stood—even just that simple closeness turned him on too. He traced her collarbones with the tips of his fingers. Watched for the reaction. Yeah, there it was. The widening of her pupils and the increase in her breathing. Her response so quick, so gorgeous. Impulsively he leaned forward and kissed her cheek.
    She turned her head but he didn’t take the mouth she offered. Instead he kissed her ear, let his tongue lightly trace the whorls, let his teeth gently bite on the soft lobe.
    Then he kissed the skin just below—she shivered. Yes, she was sensitive there, vulnerable.
    He liked to touch her where she was vulnerable.
    The constraint fell