A Week To Be Wild / Legal Seduction. JC Harroway

her, giving her a head rush that had nothing to with dizzying heights or stomach-dropping rides.

      ‘Kiss me like you’re telling me that you wanted to fuck me last night instead of leaving.’

      Please—before she came to her senses and fled, or passed out.

      His nostrils flared as he sucked in a harsh breath, focussed his intense stare on hers.

      ‘I did.’

      His voice, full of gravel, scraped her raw—as raw as the hunger she saw flare in his eyes.

      ‘I did want to fuck you last night. You told me to watch.’

      Yes. She’d got what she wanted—but the hollow victory had left her cold.

      He closed the gap between them by another half step. ‘I can’t get the taste of you out of my mouth.’ His gaze flicked down, scorching her from head to toe. ‘The image of you lying there, your hand working between your legs…’

      He dropped his head back, closing his eyes for a second before he pinned her with his penetrating stare once more.

      ‘Believe me, I’ve wanted to kiss you all fucking morning.’

      His admission knocked the air from her lungs, and a surge of triumph banished the last of her doubts.

      ‘Why don’t you then?’ Barely a whisper.

      His lips thinned, air gusting out of flared nostrils. ‘Fucked if I know.’

      They reached for each other, closing the distance with a lurch. He slammed his mouth over hers and she practically jumped up to meet him. His arms locked around her waist to catch her in mid-air. Her fingers delved into his hair as he pressed her close, their mouths opening and tongues sliding with ravenous need. The icy fear of moments ago trickled away, replaced by the sluggish thrill of euphoria. Her limbs liquefied, and the thud of her heart was loud enough to block out all her reservations.

      Yes. This was what she’d craved since last night. The knowledge that she wasn’t alone in her furious attraction to this man. He felt it too. Their searing connection. The all-consuming rush. The need to feed the fire with any available fuel.

      They pulled back, breath gusting.

      Alex gripped her face, his eyes darting between hers. ‘You sure?’

      She couldn’t speak. His concern, his consideration in the wake of that kiss was too much.

      She nodded. Another stomach flip—although she couldn’t tell if it was fear this time or the heady knowledge that there’d be more of those kisses if she wanted them. More of him.

      He slid his hands from her face, one capturing her hand. Warm, confident, his grip was firm and comforting. With a single resolute nod that filled her with belief in his piloting skills he turned them back towards the helicopter.

      But for all her bravado and bravery, the clack of her heels on the concrete roof echoed.

      A death march or the soundtrack to an adventure?