anything to go by, Sabrina McAllister had changed. And she wasn’t fighting anything now. Pure animal lust shot straight to his groin at the thought.
Elvis said, “You may kiss the bride, baby.” And Chase found himself indulging in a fantasy six years in the making—kissing Sabrina McAllister. The sensation was somewhere close to pulling a Split-S.
The woman behind the counter handed them an envelope with several photographs. Chase paid for them—the damn things cost two hundred dollars. He hadn’t realized a joke could be so expensive. Although, he’d have paid a hell of a lot more than that for a chance to kiss her again.
They walked back out into the night together as she looked at the pictures. They were hilarious. And she was beautiful. Sabrina laughed at the expression on Elvis’s face, flipping through them quickly. Until she reached the last one, the one of their kiss, and she seemed to still.
The photographer was good. He’d captured every last speck of desire that had coursed through Chase’s lips and into Sabrina. Her body arched into the strength of his hold. Her fingers dug into the shoulders of his tux, drawing him closer. Just looking at the image fired his blood all over again.
Rina stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, pulling him still beside her. The city bustled around them. Even at this late hour no one was ready to let the night go. He certainly wasn’t.
Neither was she. Turning to face him, she said, “Kiss me again.”
He didn’t need a second invitation. Wrapping his arms around her, Chase pulled their bodies close. The world moved on without them. People passed by, talking. Neon lights blinked on and off. And a blast of noise from a nightclub down the street burst into the silence that had surrounded them.
But nothing mattered. Nothing except the feel of Sabrina against him. The heat of her lips beneath his. The heady scent of her, more intoxicating than the alcohol he’d drunk hours before.
Her hands grabbed onto the nape of his neck and tugged, tugged harder, needing more.
He obliged, opening his mouth wider, taking her in.
After several moments Sabrina pulled back, staring up at him with passion-filled eyes. Her chest rose and fell against his own with each ragged breath. His arms tightened, wanting to hold her closer. Feel her closer.
“Do you want to come back to my place?”
Her words whispered against his skin, coaxing him to make the quick, easy decision. But there was nothing easy about Sabrina. And there had certainly never been anything easy about their…attraction. And the fact that he would be leaving in less than three days made this much more complicated than it should have been.
Why could they never seem to get it right?
“No.”
Her body stiffened and she tried to pull away. Chase kept a tight hold on her, not willing to let her go a second time.
“Since we’re playing at weddings I think maybe we should do it right. Wait here for me.”
Walking into the MGM Grand, the nearest hotel, Chase quickly registered for a room, arranged for a bottle of champagne and a small white wedding cake to be delivered and then returned for Sabrina.
He half expected her to be gone. But she wasn’t. In fact, he didn’t think she’d moved an inch from where he’d left her.
Grabbing her, he placed a quick kiss to her lips but ended it before they could get sucked back into the jet wash of desire.
“Come on.”
Chase watched her as she walked through the darkened, gilt-edged lobby heading for the elevator doors. The sway of her hips, the fall of her hair across her back. The way she glanced furtively behind her, those green-and-gold-shot eyes full of sensual mischief.
His body was taut, his hands curled into hard fists to keep from reaching for her in the middle of the packed lobby.
They stepped onto the elevator with a handful of other guests, far too crowded for his happiness. If they’d been alone…
His eyes roamed down the length of Sabrina’s body. His muscles tightened at the thought that in a few minutes she’d be his…after six long years of waiting.
His eyes met hers in the reflection of the polished gold doors; it was wavy and imperfect but he could still see the flare of awareness in the eyes that watched him back. Her skin flushed a delicate pink and her breasts lifted on an intake of breath.
A chime jolted him, the doors slid silently open and Chase realized they’d finally reached their floor. With a hushed sigh of thanks, he swooped in to grasp her waist and carried her along with him into the deserted hallway.
He couldn’t keep himself from touching her any longer. His mouth found the edge of her jaw and nibbled. His hands tightened on her hips, pulling her back into the cradle of his body. And the scent of her, innocent and yet somehow heady, took over his senses.
He opened their door, Sabrina eagerly pushing against it to get inside. The bed was twenty steps away but it might as well have been a football field. He’d waited long enough for her and he couldn’t wait anymore.
Grabbing her by the waist, he pressed her back against the nearest wall, kicked the door shut behind them and sank his teeth into the curve of her neck. She whimpered but didn’t draw away. Instead, she arched higher, silently asking for more.
Sabrina tore at his clothes, popping buttons and ripping at zippers. She was just as mindless and eager as he was. And that realization sent him over the edge of control.
Tearing at the shoulders of her sweater, he relished the give of material as fastenings gave way and the cotton fell to the edges of her elbows.
Her nails raked down the wall of his chest, sending his muscles dancing with pleasure. One of her legs wrapped around his hip as he trailed his mouth down the center of her body. She was soft and silky, feminine and perfect, a sharp contrast to the wild, burning urges coursing through his blood. He latched onto one erect nipple through the dark blue satin of her bra. He wanted to take it off, to feel her skin against his tongue and lips. But that would have required letting her go.
For now he contented himself with forcing the hem of her skirt up around her waist and finding the heat of her sex, hot, wet and swollen for him.
He groaned, a tortured sound in the back of his throat that died as her hand wrapped tight around his aching cock.
She squeezed and stroked, splintering his thoughts into mindless, numbing pieces. Her head rolled back against the wall as she arched into his own penetrating touches.
Her eyes glittered at him, jagged and deep, an earthy green. Knowledge and possession. She knew exactly what she was doing to his body as her fingers teased his rigid flesh. She pulled a condom from somewhere, ripped open the package and rolled it with agonizing slowness down his throbbing cock.
She was a witch. There was no denying it. He’d never been this hard, this delirious, this lost in his life.
But he had power of his own, a confidence that he could bring her to her knees with a single-minded assault on her senses. He’d seen her reaction to him, the way her eyes had watched him in the reflection of that elevator.
