Protocol, Tome 3 : Point of Combustion

Extrait offert par Dawn Ryder :

Arousal, she was discovering, was a cruel demon because it had decided to settle on a man she wasn’t even sure she liked. It was the most illogical thing she’d ever felt, the heat slipping down her passage unleashing dark ideas of taunting him enough to get her body pressed back against his. Would his kiss be rough or deep? Her gaze dropped to his mouth as she contemplated it.

A soft sound passed through Trace’s lips and she jerked her attention back to his eyes. Her cheeks smarted as she watched hunger brighten his eyes.

“You’re still in one piece.” Rowan appeared behind her with a smug smile on his lips. His dark hazel eyes surveyed Trace before he looked at her. “I’m disappointed. That back kick of yours had me hoping this mogul wouldn’t smooth-talk you like he does the rest of the girlies.”

“With friends like you, I don’t need enemies.” Trace sounded annoyed and Mia watched the exchange with enjoyment.

“Having me as a friend does make you a lucky man.”

Rowan smirked at Trace. He kept the door open he’d entered through. It actually wasn’t a door. At least she wouldn’t have realized that the wall opened at all. The entire wall was floor-to-ceiling wood paneling—there was no handle facing the entryway that they’d stepped into. He gestured at the space beyond.

“Welcome to the Throne Room.”

They walked into a glass-enclosed rectangle, like the security checkpoint at an airport. It was silent but light flickered through it. Red, purple and green colored the area.

She felt Trace move up behind her—she actually recognized his scent. A hand curved around her hip again as Rowan sealed the door, blocking out the daylight.

The clear door in front of her opened and music filled the cubicle. A man was standing directly on the other side of the door, his eyes inspecting them as they crossed over onto the plush carpet. The club itself was mostly empty. A band was rehearsing on the stage as the lights swirled around the wooden dance floor. There were two mini stages out on the huge dance surface that two brightly costumed girls were dancing on. The lights bounced off their clothing as they kept beat with the music. One was a long-haired girl with curvy hips and plump breasts. The other was short-haired and thin with a nose ring sparkling as she worked her body. The lead guitarist played the last few chords and the drummer hit the cymbals. The music hadn’t been blaring but it had been good. With the band quiet, Mia looked around for Trace. A blush burned across her cheeks as she realized how absorbed she’d become without thinking about it.

“They are good.” Trace was watching her, his attention focused completely on her. She blushed deeper and hotter under the intensity. He moved forward, draping an arm across her back again. His hand closed over her hip once more but she didn’t jump. She caught her breath slightly but her body wasn’t startled by the intimate touch. No, her body was accepting, even encouraging. Warm delight flowed over her skin. She wasn’t sure when her nipples beaded, only that the twin points poked against her bra making her hate the thing. The silk of her top felt deliciously soft against her skin because she suddenly felt as though she had double the number of nerve endings. Her flesh was sensitive and almost too warm for any clothing to be comfortable.

He leaned down, his warm breath brushing her ear. “To appear like we know each other, you need to relax against me.”

Easier said than done…

Slipping her hand behind his back, she laid it against the hard muscle. He clicked his tongue.

“Better, but we’re not high-school sweethearts.”

“We aren’t lovers either,” she hissed in a low voice that wouldn’t cross the room.

A warm hand cupped her chin as he used the arm draped across her back to curl her into a firm embrace. He slid his hand down over her bottom to keep her from lifting her lower body. She couldn’t escape being pressed completely against him, her belly feeling every inch of his hard erection. His hand moved from her chin to grasp the nape of her neck. She shuddered again, trying to think, but it was impossible with his body surrounding her.

“Easy, Princess. It’s all for a good cause, remember?” His fingers massaged her neck gently as he placed a soft kiss against her temple. “Put your hands on me. Play the part.”

Slipping her hand up to his chest sent another quiver through her. Thinking about how muscular he was didn’t compare with feeling it. Her fingers transmitted delight straight into her bloodstream.

“That’s it.”

Point of Combustion

She stopped with her hands resting on his chest. He was pressing her closer to him because her body wanted to spring away out of sheer nervousness. He kissed her cheek this time, high up near her hairline. “The dancing girls talk. They’re watching us right now, so relax.”

“I’m trying,” she snapped at him, angry at her own inexperience. Looking like his lover just wasn’t something she knew how to fake.

His eyes studied her, seeing more than she wanted him to. She ducked her head but a warm hand cupped her chin, preventing her from escaping his dark gaze. He muttered something in Russian. The sound of his voice was deep and dark with tantalizing promise. She shuddered as hunger blazed a trail down her spine. Time froze as she felt his heart beat through her fingertips. Her own was hammering away, making her breathing quick. Each breath drew in the scent of his skin and her nipples tightened as it touched some dark corner of her brain. Arousal snaked through her, every inch of her skin warming up.

His eyes narrowed a second before he bent his head to kiss her. Her body bucked but he held her steady as his mouth teased hers. With firm insistence, he pushed her lips apart to deepen the kiss. His lips commanded hers, moving slowly as his arms held her steady. Her breath froze as heat licked over her. Pleasure tightened almost unbearably throughout her belly as need filled her passage. Her hands refused to remain still, her fingers sliding across the wide expanse of his chest. The hard muscle beneath his shirt was warm and beckoning. Her body stopped straining away from his. Now she melted against his frame, eager for contact, her lips learning the motion from his, returning his kiss as sweet pleasure flowed through their joined flesh.

“Hey, Trace!”

His mouth lifted away from hers, his breathing harsh. Their eyes locked for a moment and she shivered as she watched him fight off the urge to ignore everything but her. His arms opened but he kept one draped across her back like he knew her body well.

“Keep up the show, Princess, the life hanging in the balance is yours.”