Carolina Man by Virginia Kantra

Author:Virginia Kantra [Kantra, Virginia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Contemporary, General
ISBN: 9781101631102
Google: _at_AAAAQBAJ
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2014-03-03T13:00:00+00:00

LUKE SHUDDERED UNDER Kate’s lips, under Kate’s hands. He felt amazing, all powerful and out of control at the same time, his blood pounding, his heart too big for his chest. She was soft and warm against him. Her hair, tickling his chin, smelled exotic and comforting, like Chinese spice and soap, and he wanted to grab her up and do her on the table or against the wall, but there was something different and painfully arousing about standing there as she worked his shirt up over his ribs, as she ran her fingers through the hair on his chest, exploring him with her touch.

He helped her, yanking his shirt up and over his head, his body hers to do . . . whatever she wanted. And she wanted him, he could feel it in the tremor of her body, see it in her darkened eyes. He swelled under her gaze, under her touch, his skin tight, his dick pulsing against the fly of his jeans.

She dipped her fingers just under his waistband, light and cool against his bare, hot skin, and stopped. “Do you want . . .”

“Yes.”

Her smile broke across her beautiful face. “To go into the bedroom?”

“Anywhere.” Anything. Anytime.

She moved out of his arms, toward the door. He followed, determined not to lose contact, one hand sliding from her shoulder to the small of her back. She reached back and gripped his hand, hard, and his body jolted as if she’d wrapped those small, strong fingers around his heart.

He wanted to see her naked. To be with her, skin to skin. As soon as they crossed the threshold to her dimly lit bedroom, he put his hands on her sweater, under her sweater, feeling her pretty tits. She sighed and melted against him while he learned her shape through her bra. Nice. Soft. He plucked her nipples to tight little points and then eased her sweater up, over her head.

“Oh, yeah.” She wore a little gold necklace that dipped into the shallow indentation between her breasts, her slight cleavage rising above the smooth, shiny cups of her bra, with a spattering of freckles like cinnamon on ice cream. He wanted to eat her up. “You’re so pretty.”

A flush started halfway up her chest. “Let me just get the light.”

He caught her hands as she turned away. “I want to see you. You’re beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you.” Her gaze slid over him, and he flexed a little, wanting to see the admiration in her eyes. “You’re, um, really in shape.”

“You’re really sexy.”

She made a disbelieving noise and moved away, toward the lamp by the bed. Her turn revealed a mark high on her right shoulder blade, dark against her smooth, pale skin.

“You have a tattoo,” he said on a note of discovery.

“So do you.”

“Wings?”

“Scales of justice.” She popped her shoulder so he could see. “To celebrate passing the bar.” Another shoulder hitch, like a shrug. “Not very original.”

“Classic,” he corrected.

“Like yours.” She switched off the lamp and returned to him, her smile bewitching in the dark.

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