Power Play by Beverly Long

Author:Beverly Long
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2017-10-16T18:46:03+00:00

Chapter 11

There was no way for him to know it, but she’d never been as daring with any man. Had never been the aggressor, so damn greedy that she refused to accept no for an answer. But Trey was so nice, so good-looking, so incredibly sexy. Since three minutes after she’d stepped into his arms on the dance floor, she’d desperately wanted him.

And while he might have taken a little convincing, once he got in the spirit of things, he seemed to need no additional coaching. He backed her up against the hotel wall and with three fingers under her chin, lifted her head up. Then bent his head and kissed her.

And kissed her. She felt muscles she didn’t know she had dissolve into loose masses of skin and bone. She felt weightless.

So damn free.

He palmed her breast. “Beautiful,” he murmured. “So pretty.” He kissed his way down her neck, into the valley between her breasts, before taking her nipple into his mouth. Heat shot to her core and she arched against him.

His jeans were in the way. She groaned.

“Slow down,” he murmured.

“Next time,” she begged. She put the palm of her hand against him. Felt how hard he was. “Half dozen,” she reminded him.

A shudder ripped through his body. He lifted his head, looked her in the eye. “I don’t want there to be any regrets,” he said.

“None,” she said. “Promise.”

He bent down, slipped an arm under her knees and lifted her up. “Then let’s get you horizontal, honey.”

* * *

He wasn’t sure how long they’d slept but he didn’t think it was more than an hour. He was spooned around her and her hair was everywhere.

With great clarity, significantly more than he should have been able to muster given that he’d had very little sleep, he realized that everything was the same and everything was different.

His shoulder, the one he’d dislocated three years ago in a skiing accident, ached the same way it did whenever he slept on it wrong. The ligaments around his right knee that had almost been destroyed in that same accident cried out to be stretched. Same way as always.

Yet it was all different. Because he was waking up in the same bed as Kellie McGarry. She slept quietly, breathing in and out of her nose. One arm was under the pillow, her hand curled tight into a fist, holding on to just the edge of it. She’d tossed off the sheet and blanket and he took his time studying her naked body from the tip of her cute nose all the way down to her toes. Even her feet were pretty. Her dark purple toenails matched her fingernails.

She’d been a handful of contradictions. Bold in getting him into bed, sweet in whispering in his ear what she liked, joyful—yes, yes, God yes—when she’d come and a little shy afterward, when she’d pulled the sheet practically up to her neck.

Her eyelids fluttered open. She smiled.

“Okay?” he whispered, rolling to his side so that he could see all of her face.

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