Free In His Brother's Place by Elizabeth Lane

thigh beneath her skirt....
    He’d wanted Angie Montoya from the first time he saw her with his brother. He’d wanted her that night, and, damn his soul to Hades, he wanted her now.
    His sex rose and hardened as he held her. There was no way she couldn’t feel it. But even though she was trembling, she didn’t pull away. Her arms crept around his ribs, binding their bodies even closer. With his erection cradled against her firm belly, he couldn’t help thinking of where he really wanted to be—buried to the hilt inside her.
    “Jordan...” Her lush lips shaped his name. “I need...”
    He silenced her with what began as a gentle kiss. As she pressed upward, her mouth opening in invitation, the kiss deepened. His tongue feathered the sensitive inner edge of her lips, teasing her until she moaned and stretched on tiptoe to lift her hips closer to his erection. Jordan was dimly aware of her shoes dropping to the floor as he seized her taut buttocks and hauled her upward, grinding her mound against his sex. She was gasping, almost sobbing by the time he found the zipper at the back of her dress.
    That night in the car, they’d managed to stop before things got out of control. But there would be no stopping now.
    * * *
    The bedroom wasn’t far. Angie clung to Jordan as he half carried her down the hall. Her head was spinning, her blood keening through her veins, drowning the feeble protests of common sense. How could she have forgotten what it was like—the sweet rush of sensations, the overpowering need? With every throb of her pulse, she wanted this man. Her woman’s body hungered for the feel of him, the scent and taste of him.
    Her dress gapped open in back where Jordan had yanked down the zipper. His fingers worked the fastening of her black lace bra, deftly parting the single clasp. The touch of his hand on her skin sent a warm shock spiraling through her body. All she could think of was more. Her frantic fingers tore at the front of his shirt. Buttons clattered onto the tiles as they stumbled down the hallway.
    They reached the side of the king-size bed. He lowered her bare feet to the rug long enough to strip off her dress. The bra came with it, sliding down her body to pool around her ankles. She kicked the clothes aside as he flung back the covers, swept her up in his arms and all but flung her onto the sheets.
    Clad in nothing but her wispy black panties, she lay watching as he ripped off his clothes to reveal a lean, muscular torso. He shoved his briefs down his hips, freeing his erection to spring up, as hard and sleek as a marble column.
    Neither of them spoke. Jordan seemed to know that words would only complicate things. So did she. Angie quivered as he leaned over her. She felt a breath of hesitation—he was so experienced, so sure. Was she about to make a fool of herself? But her arms were already reaching up to pull him down to her. He groaned as he buried his face between her breasts, inhaling the scent of her skin, mouthing her nipples with a hunger that sharpened the secret longings inside her. Strange, how the notion of Jordan Cooper needing anyone hadn’t entered her mind until now. But how could she not believe that he needed her as much as she needed him?
    Her head fell back as he stroked her. His hands ranged downward over the flat of her belly, sliding her panties off her hips, working them downward until they were lost in the bedclothes. His palm slid back up to skim the crisp, black curls between her thighs. She whimpered, thrusting her hips to meet his touch, wanting him to caress her, to taste her.
    Her hands raked his hair, urging his head downward. Sensing what she wanted, he shifted his weight and brushed a line of kisses down her belly. Her breath stopped as he settled between her legs. His breath warmed her sex. His tongue separated her folds, licking the exquisitely sensitive bud at their center. Her womb contracted like a fist. Her hands clenched and unclenched in a frenzy as he