“No,” she said firmly and was ignored. “No,” she said again, quieter. “Xander.” His name was two syllables, the last broken high on the end. When he began to massage her clit more forcefully, she tried to close her thighs against him. When that didn’t work she sank her teeth into his upper arm and groaned when he shivered. “Stop,” she panted, leaning back to slap his face.
He looked up, surprised, but even then his impudent fingers kept rubbing her clit until she pulled his hand away.
They stared at each other, green eyes stroking brown as their hearts took a break from furiously pounding the blood to their limbs. Lee stroked the side of his face, accepting his kiss on her palm as she soothed the area she hadn’t really hurt. Her eyes closed as she savored his heat, his touch, the smell of his skin.
A million “why didn’t you call me’s?!?” bubbled behind her lips, but her body cared nothing for explanations. Later, her brain whispered. Now, her body called, but she tried to move away, to think clearly. He clutched her to him instantly, murmuring so anxiously she gave up and relaxed.
It was strange discovering the passion they’d shared as kids had survived. It was also terribly sexy, easy, despite the uncertainty that lingered, and she wanted more.
It wasn’t like they’d parted acrimoniously. There’d been no big scene, no harsh words or accusations. There was just a kiss and a plane and then, nothing. No calls, no letters, no emails. Nothing. Until now.
Fiona Love Page 26
