Mistresses: Just One Night. Yvonne Lindsay

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Mistresses: Just One Night - Yvonne Lindsay Mills & Boon M&B

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backed her up there in the first place. A better man wouldn’t have wanted to get her off balance and caged in so she had no choice but to reach out and hold onto him.

      She could have a better man after he left town.

      Reaching for one hand and then the other, he rubbed his thumbs against the pale skin of her wrists, felt the racing of her pulse beneath, and then brought her palms to his chest. “What’s she doing setting you up?”

      Her gaze was fixed on the spot where her hands rested against him, her breath coming in shallow pants. “It’s her version of an intervention because of what happened with you. She thinks I’m … lonely … desperate … something. Doesn’t believe me when I tell her I don’t have time for a relationship right now. She feels … sort of responsible for me. It’s not right, but, whatever. So she called a guy she knows, a ‘nice guy’ looking for something serious, to save me from myself.”

      Bowing closer, he let his words wash over her temple. “Do you need saving?”

      Her breath caught, but not her hands. Slipping over the back of the couch, she landed on the seat cushions with a startled gasp. Only too quickly, she saw her opening and was on the move. Levi followed her over, hitting the cushions as Elise slithered to the floor—her slinky, back-crawling escape making him want to catch her all the more.

      Just not quite yet.

      Eyes wide, she shook her head. “I don’t know what I need.”

      Not a problem. “I do.”

      It was written all over her face—in the spots of color high on her cheekbones, the smoke swirling in her eyes, the rise and fall of her chest … and the tight knots of her nipples pressing through her yoga tank. And if that wasn’t enough, there was that electric current spiking through the air between them. “And I think maybe you do too.”

      Oh, God. He was grinning. Not some jovial nonthreatening expression of benevolence and friendship either. Not even close. This was predatory. Relentless. A warning of seductive intent that teased her senses toward a heightened state of awareness.

      It made her hot. Scared and excited all at once.

      It made her want to get reckless in a way that wasn’t part of her makeup.

      “Levi,” she pleaded, arms and legs working in a sort of crablike scuttle to put distance between them. “This can’t be a good idea.”

      He prowled after her in slow, shoulder rolling pursuit. Stalking on hands and knees across the hardwood … that seductive gleam in his eyes … the promise of pleasure stretching in the air between them drawing her toward him even as her hands and feet pushed her away.

      “It’s not.”

      No apology. No justification. No reassurance.

      “Then why?”

      “Because deep down, Elise, I’m not a nice guy.” Eyes dark as storm-tossed seas held with hers. “And I want you too much to do the right thing.”

      A shudder tore through her, halting her retreat as need spilled warm and thick through her belly. “Oh, God, that’s good.”

      To be wanted enough that the right thing didn’t matter.

      And then she realized: that was how she wanted him.

      Waiting, she trembled as Levi closed in—crawling over her until his head was even with hers, his arms braced at either side of her ribs, and one knee was positioned between her legs while the other rested beside her hip.

      His mouth curved into a wicked taunt. “Quitter.”

      “I don’t think I want to run from this. From you.”

      That dark gaze raked over her body beneath his, a breath away from contact. “Don’t want a nice guy after all, then?”

      She shook her head. Nice guys were overrated. It hurt so much worse when they let you down, because you never saw it coming.

      With one arm still braced at her side, Levi wrapped the other around her back. Taking her weight, he closed the distance between them with the hard press of his lips against her own.

      Safe in the strength of his hold, she threw her arms around his neck. The demand of his mouth increased, and she opened beneath him. Clung to him as his tongue swept past her lips in a deep, delicious invasion that was all confidence and claim. Nothing tentative, nothing questioning.

      Fingers bunched into the fabric of his shirt, she took the hot thrust of his tongue with a moan, tasted the wet caress of his hunger, and met it with her own.

      No one had ever kissed her the way Levi did.

      It was all consuming. Possessive. Intense.

      And worth anything her conscience had to pay to have it.

      Nudging his knee between her legs, he leaned forward, bringing them into closer contact.

      Breath ripping from her lungs, she cried out as the thick slab of his muscled thigh flexed against her sex. Satisfaction rumbled from deep in his chest as he palmed the globe of her bottom, angling her hips to meet him again and setting a rhythm of advance and retreat with the rocking of their bodies and wet tangle of their tongues.

      Stoking the flame of her desire until it blazed beyond containment.

      “Levi,” she gasped, the needy ache between her legs spiraling tight through her core as she clutched at his shirt. “Take this off. Please.”

      Levi shifted onto his knees, pulling her up with him so she straddled his lap. Then grabbing a fistful of shirt from his shoulder, he tugged it over his head and tossed it aside.

      Her mouth opened to say … something, beg for more maybe, only the words were beyond her.

      He was so incredibly, beautifully built. Broad shoulders. Bronzed skin. And that decadent trail of crisp hair arrowing beneath the fly of his jeans. Hands splaying over the defined contours of his chest, she brushed the tips of her fingers against the tight discs of his masculine nipples, marveling at her own body’s clenching response to the grazing touch.

      Peering up into his face, she whispered, “What you do to me …”

      “Elise. What I want to do to you.” Catching her jaw in his palm, he held her gaze. “You sure you understand what you’re getting into here?”

      The corner of her mouth turned up at his reluctant concession. He didn’t want to be a nice guy, but apparently he couldn’t help it. “I’m sure.”

      He nodded, then, leaning back, he dug his phone out of his pocket and held it in front of her. “Call your sister.”

      Elise blinked up at him, her body a riot of need. “What—now?”

      “Now. I’m not above talking you into another mistake, but I’m sure as hell not going to make a cheater out of you while I do it. Dial.”

      Elise swallowed, thumbing in her sister’s number. At the first ring she moved to take the phone from him, but Levi pulled it away,

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