Free Instinctive Male by Cait London Page A

sensitized, Mikhail’s body responded to her immediately. Only a man who had kissed her thoroughly, wrapped her against him and breathed the scent of her body would feel pleasure in the slight swell of her lips, the flush of her cheeks, the flashing heat of her eyes.
    He couldn’t resist a downward look at her body, curved within her red chunky sweater and worn jeans. Almost unnoticeable, the peaks of her breasts were still hardened, and it gave him immense pleasure to know that she reacted as he had, that she still carried that passion within her, not easily forgotten.
    They were in tune with each other, at least physically.
    The rest would be open warfare.
    Bliss slowly studied Ellie and then turned to Mikhail, and he groaned inwardly. Under Bliss’s inspection, he felt like a sulky little boy, and he knew what to expect.
    “Group hug,” Bliss said softly but firmly as she wrapped one arm around Mikhail and the other around Ellie. Each refused to budge, to come closer. Ellie stared furiously at Mikhail. He grimly returned the favor.
    Bliss’s gaze went from one to another. “Goodness. She’s just absolutely quivering. Can you feel it, Mikhail?”
    Mikhail banked the groan inside him. He’d felt Ellie quiver, all right, hot and sweet and hungry. And in the Stepanov home, there were few secrets, especially with Bliss’s “vibration” and “aura” revelations.
    “Let’s just get this over with,” he stated grimly. He was a veteran of Bliss’s group hugs to solve arguments.
    “What if I don’t want to?” Ellie taunted, and stepped back to fold her arms over her chest.
    Bliss looked sympathetically at her. “Now, dear. You know it isn’t good to—”
    Mikhail reached past Bliss, tugged Ellie into his arms and kissed her. Surprised, she came sweetly against him, and he luxuriated in the softness he wanted, the scent. When he heard a purr deep in her throat that shot heat into his blood, he struggled for control. He set her back from him, a bit roughly, because his fingers wanted to dig in and take.
    She looked up at him blankly, her mouth slightly parted as her hands latched onto the countertop behind her. She looked flushed and sweet and stunned and—“There,” Mikhail said quietly, disturbed by the gentleness within him, the need to comfort her. “I guess that about says it. Let’s eat.”
    “‘About says it. Let’s eat,”’ Ellie repeated as though in a trance as he eased her into a chair beside his at the table.
    “She’s cute like that, don’t you think?” Mikhail asked Jarek, who was grinning, though his wife’s nudging elbow had just reminded him of his manners.
    “Now, Precious,” Jarek said to tease his wife, formerly known as Bliss and Ed’s “Precious Blossom.” When Leigh opened her mouth to protest the nickname, Jarek kissed her. “Mother of my child, my love and my life,” he said softly.
    Leigh reacted with a delighted blush, her coppery curls dancing. “Keep looking at me like that, big boy, and I’ll let you share my sardines,” she offered.
    “Mmm. You can have my share,” Jarek returned with a grin.
    “Now, Ellie-darlin’,” Mary Jo soothed in her drawl. “Don’t think too badly of my boys, will you? It’s their father’s influence, not mine. In Texas, we’re a lot calmer and we get there just the same. And, Mikhail, you mind your manners.”
    Mikhail was thirty-nine, a successful businessman, and still his mother could make him feel as if he were ten.
    Fadey looked as blissful as an expectant grandfather could be, and Mikhail suspected even greater expectations in that intent look crossing from Mikhail to Ellie. If there was one thing Fadey and Mary Jo dreamed of in their rich life, it was for a houseful of grandchildren. “It’s not going to happen,” Mikhail said quietly to his father.
    “We’ll see. A new broom sweeps—”
    “Fadey…” Mary Jo warned, because Mikhail wasn’t a man to push.
    As Mikhail began to enjoy his mother’s famous