Chapter 13 #3
“I mean, the plot’s supposed to be simple, right?
Evil society wife makes hero’s life miserable; sweet innocent heroine saves him with the power of love; everyone lives happily ever after except the villainess who probably ends up in Siberia or something.
” She shifted in his lap, and he had to suppress a groan at the unconscious movement.
“But no one tells you what to do when the hero smells this good or has forearms that should come with a warning label.”
His chuckle rumbled through his chest before he could stop it. “Forearms with warning labels?”
“Don’t laugh! This is serious!” But he could hear the smile in her voice, so different from Victoria’s usual cold tones.
“I’m supposed to be plotting your downfall, not noticing how your eyes crinkle when you smile or how your voice gets all deep and rumbly when you’re amused.
” She poked his chest accusingly. “The book definitely didn’t mention that the villain’s husband would be this… this…”
“This what?” he murmured, his breath stirring her hair. He inhaled the intoxicating scent of vanilla and something uniquely her.
She finally lifted her head to look at him, and his breath caught in his throat.
The library’s warm light caught the vulnerable expression in her eyes, the slight part of her lips, the flush spreading across her cheeks.
This close, he could see every silver fleck in her gray eyes, feel the quick rhythm of her breathing matching his own accelerated heartbeat.
His hand moved of its own accord to cup her cheek, thumb brushing across her impossibly soft skin.
The air between them grew thick with tension, charged with possibility.
Every point where their bodies touched felt electric—her weight in his lap, her hands on his chest, the brush of her hair against his neck.
“Victoria,” he said, his voice emerging rougher than intended, desire making it drop an octave. “What am I?”
“Unfair,” she whispered, her eyes dropping to his lips before meeting his gaze again. The naked want in her expression made his blood burn. “You’re completely unfair. With your perfect face and your kind eyes and the way you’re looking at me right now like… like…”
“Like what?” His hand slid up her spine, feeling her shiver under his touch.
“Like you want to kiss me as badly as I want to kiss you.” The confession tumbled from her lips, breathy and desperate.
“I do.” His admission ghosted across her lips they were so close now. “God help me, I do.”
She surged forward, claiming his mouth with hers, and his world narrowed to this—the soft gasp she made against his lips, the taste of her tongue, the feel of her fingers threading through his hair.
This was nothing like the cold, distant woman he’d been married to for the past two years—the wife who treated physical contact like a distasteful necessity and hadn’t shared his bed since their wedding night.
No, this was raw and real and hungry. She kissed him like she couldn’t help herself, like she’d been fighting gravity and finally decided to fall.
His arms tightened around her instinctively, one hand tangling in her silken hair while the other pressed her closer, eliminating any space between them.
He kissed her back with equal fervor, drowning in the taste of her, the soft sounds she made, the way she melted against him as if she belonged there.
Each sweep of his tongue, each gentle bite of her lower lip drew out little whimpers that made his blood sing.
His hands roamed her back as the kiss deepened, growing more desperate with each passing moment.
When she nipped at his lower lip, a growl rumbled through his chest. In one fluid motion, he repositioned them, laying her on the sofa.
She made a soft sound of surprise that quickly turned into a moan as he settled over her, his weight pressing her into the cushions.
“God, the sounds you make,” he breathed against her throat, trailing kisses down the column of her neck. Her pulse raced under his lips, matching his own thundering heartbeat.
She arched beneath him, wrapping her legs around his waist and pulling him closer. The move aligned their bodies perfectly, drawing a groan from deep in his chest. Her fingers threaded through his hair, nails scraping lightly against his scalp in a way that made him shudder.
“Jason,” she whimpered as he found a particularly sensitive spot below her ear. The breathy way she said his name—nothing like Victoria’s usual clipped tones—sent heat racing through his veins.
He captured her mouth again, swallowing her soft moans as she pressed against him.
Every curve of her body fit against his like she was made for him.
Her hands slid down his back, pulling him impossibly closer as she arched up to meet him.
The friction made his head spin, desire coursing through him like wildfire.
The distant sound of his phone ringing barely registered through the haze of want. He ignored it, too lost in the taste of her lips, the feel of her body moving beneath his, the little gasps and whimpers she made as he deepened the kiss.
The phone persisted, its ring cutting through the heated atmosphere like a blade. Still, he tried to ignore it, focusing instead on the way she trembled when he caught her lower lip between his teeth.
But the ringing continued, relentless and demanding. With a frustrated groan, he finally pulled back, resting his forehead against hers as they both caught their breath. Their lips were barely an inch apart, and he could feel the rapid rise and fall of her chest against his.
“I should…” he started, his voice rough with desire.
“Yeah,” she breathed, her eyes dark and dazed, lips swollen from his kisses. The sight nearly made him forget about the phone entirely.
Reluctantly, he pushed himself up and retrieved his phone from his jacket. Singapore office. Urgent.
He turned back to her, taking in her disheveled appearance—hair mussed from his fingers, blouse rumpled, cheeks flushed. She looked thoroughly kissed and utterly irresistible. “Tonight,” he promised, his voice low and full of intent. “We’ll continue this tonight.”
The way her breath caught at his words, the darkening of her eyes—it took every ounce of his self-control to walk out of that library and take the call.