Wild And Wicked. Joanne Rock

He’d been with more women than she could count. Would it kill him to indulge her for a day? Maybe two? She edged her way closer to stand between his knees. “Especially since you robbed me of the chance to abduct a more fun captive.”

      Trailing a hand over his thigh, Kyra absorbed the heat of him through her fingers. The bristly hair of his leg lightly scratched over her palm.

      “You’ve temporarily lost your mind, woman.” Jesse imprisoned her wandering hand just as she reached his shorts. “What else would you have me do?”

      As he held her there, immobile but far from powerless, Kyra could see the quick pulse in his neck, feel the tension in his body.

      She insinuated herself farther into the vee of his thighs, their bodies a scant inch from touching. Leaning close, she whispered in his ear.

      “I think I’d have you barter sexual favors for your freedom.”

      4

      IF KYRA HAD BEEN any other woman, Jesse would be well on his way to making her forget her own name by now.

      As he held her slender wrist with one hand, it occurred to him he’d never restrained a woman’s touch before. Hell, he’d never restrained his own desire to touch for that matter.

      Women had always given him the green light, and he’d always accepted it with pleasure. To hold back was an all-new experience. One which he hoped fervently he’d never have to repeat.

      “Sexual favors have no place between friends. You know that.” He tried not to notice the satiny texture of the skin on the inside of her wrist.

      “Since when?” Her other hand slid over his chest in a provocative swirl.

      Before he imprisoned that one, too. “Since always. What kind of friend would I be if I let you sleep with a low-down two-timer like me?”

      She lifted a sunny blond eyebrow and met his gaze dead-on. “What kind of friend would you be if you denied me the best orgasms in Citrus County?”

      So much of his blood surged south, she might as well have set up a damn IV to his Johnson. Damned if he didn’t feel light-headed.

      “My reputation has definitely been overstated,” he managed to croak in between gulps of much-needed air.

      She leaned closer, her breasts brushing his chest. “I don’t think so.”

      Somewhere between the brush of her breasts and her whispered words, Jesse must have let go of her hands. All of the sudden, they were everywhere, on his shoulders, spilling down onto his back, drawing him closer.

      Such soft, silky palms. He’d seen her riding and working with gloves on a million times over the years. Never once had he suspected she’d been protecting such smooth skin underneath that dusty leather.

      He reached for her—thinking he’d insert some space between them—but instead he pulled her closer when his fingers met the cotton of her skirt. Her hips were narrow along with the rest of her body, but they curved gently from her waist, providing an inviting niche for a man’s touch.

      For his touch.

      A soft moan escaped her lips, a cry both earthy and feminine. The note of hungry longing pushed him over the edge. He might have been able to resist his own sexual urges. But how could he continue to refuse hers when he’d never been able to deny her anything in over a decade of friendship?

      Assuring himself he would find a way to keep things under control, Jesse slid off the table and onto his feet, never letting go of Kyra’s hips. He took one look at her flushed cheeks, her half-closed eyelids, and knew he wasn’t going to be able to walk away anytime soon.

      She raised both palms to his chest and pressed him gently backward. Not that he moved anywhere.

      “Where do you think you’re going?” she whispered, sultry as Eve before the fig leaves.

      “I’m going to barter for my freedom.” He tugged her toward the bedroom, a room he’d built with his own two hands long before he ever suspected he’d spend any time within those four walls. “And I’ve got a sexual favor in mind that will curl your toes, melt your insides and make you forget all about playing pirate for the day.”

      OH. MY.

      Kyra’s footsteps followed in the wake of Jesse’s as he pulled her into the bedroom. She’d dreamed about this moment more times than she could count, yet a niggling fear gave her pause. Was he acting on seductive autopilot in giving her what she wanted, or did he feel a small measure of the same sensual hunger she did?

      Or what if—God forbid—he was acting out of some sense of pity?

      As much as she wanted whatever toe-curling, inside-melting experience Jesse Chandler had to offer, first she needed to be certain his erotic overtures were fueled by a little passion and not some misguided sense of duty as her friend.

      And she could only think of one way to find out as Jesse drew her down onto the simple white linens of her king-size four-poster bed.

      She dove for his shorts.

      The move wasn’t exactly subtle, but until she touched him, she couldn’t be entirely sure how she affected him. Granted, she would have to be blind not to notice the man wasn’t turned on at the moment. But for all she knew, men automatically responded to leather corsets and a few throaty sighs.

      Kyra had always been a practical, salt-of-the-earth type of girl, and she felt more comfortable getting her own handle on the situation, so to speak. She needed to see how he reacted to her touch.

      “Holy—” Jesse’s swallowed oath and wide eyes weren’t exactly the reactions she’d hoped for.

      “What?” She smoothed her fingers over the altogether pleasing shape of him beneath his clothes. She had little enough experience in this arena, but she possessed enough to be impressed.

      Jesse’s eyelids fell to half-mast before he caught both her hands in his. “Have you always been this much of a pistol and I just missed it?”

      Their gazes connected in the dim light filtering through closed wooden blinds and sheer lace curtains. Between the setting sun and the muted colors of the room, Kyra couldn’t even see where the dark brown of his eyes stopped and the black center of his pupils began.

      She sat perfectly still, transfixed by the rapid beat of her heart, the steady warmth of Jesse’s stare. “You ought to know I only do things all or nothing. Starting the Crooked Branch. Helping you build this house. Going for broke at the horse shows. If I want something, I am very willing to work for it.”

      In fact, she was quite willing to do whatever it took to make sure Jesse noticed her, to make sure he stayed tonight. But he was making it a bit of a challenge by restraining her hands at every turn.

      Working on instinct, she settled for leaning back into the Battenburg lace pillows to recline the rest of the way on the bed.

      Like an indomitable force of nature, her breasts remained standing even when she lay down. Corsets rocked.

      “You’re a wild woman.” Jesse’s eyes burned a path down the leather laces holding her outfit together.

      Kyra rather liked the idea of unveiling a whole new side of herself that only Jesse would see. Because she felt safe with him, she could be more adventurous than she would be with any other man. More daring.

      “Wild and wicked.” She ran the top of her bare foot up the inside of his calf. “That’s me.”

      Jesse dodged the path of her marauding toes and followed her down to the mattress, pinning her hands over her head. “Not for long you’re not.”

      His nearness cooked up a thick heat in her veins and sent a rush of liquid warmth through her body. His tanned muscles flexed on either side of her cheeks as he held her in place on the bed.

      “I’m not?” She sure