“Rule number three.” He placed his index finger on her lips. “Don’t get emotionally involved with an employee.”
When she parted her lips, heat slammed into his gut. “I’ve known you less than two weeks,” he said, “and I’ve already broken every damn one.”
“You know,” she whispered, “since I’m no longer an employee, those rules don’t really apply anymore, do they?”
“No, I suppose they don’t,” he said, then grabbed hold of her shoulders and dragged her mouth to his.
Seven
Crazy.
Unbelievably, undeniably, wondrously crazy.
His mouth on hers, his arms crushing her against him, drove every rational thought from her mind. She didn’t want to think, and how could she, with her heart thundering in her head the way it was?
She was too damn tired to fight her emotions any longer. She wanted, needed, as she never had before. When his lips moved to her ear, she rolled her head back on a soft moan.
Pressing closer to him, she wrapped her arms around his neck, felt giddy with the excitement rushing through her. But somewhere, far away, on the edges of her mind, she heard a tiny voice. Are you insane? You’re in the hotel. The entire kitchen staff watched you leave with Sam!
“Sam,” she managed a weak protest. “This is—”
“I know.” He nipped at her earlobe.
She shivered violently. “We shouldn’t—”
“No,” he agreed, and blazed kisses down her neck.
There, right there, she thought when his mouth nuzzled the base of her throat. “Someone might—”
“They might.”
She sucked in a breath when his teeth sank into her skin. “Will you stop being so damn agreeable?”
“Okay,” he murmured.
His mouth caught hers again, kissed her long and hard. A hot, wild meeting of tongue and teeth and lips. Her pulse raced; heat swept through her veins like a firestorm, turning her insides to liquid. Certain her bones were melting, she clung to him, afraid she might slide to the floor.
But the carpet was soft, she thought dimly. Soft and cushioned.
And so close …
So decadent …
She arched up into him, felt the full length of his solid body against hers, the hard press of his erection. Her breasts tingled with anticipation, her skin tightened, and the intensity of the sensations might have been painful if she hadn’t been so completely and utterly aroused.
Her fingers hurried up his neck, curled into his thick, smooth hair. The texture shivered from her fingertips all the way down to her toes. She breathed in the scent of his skin, a heady mix of pure male and hot passion, then rushed her hands down again, slid under the lapels of his suit jacket and slid it off his broad shoulders.
Through the rolling haze of desire, she felt him backing her across the room. Toward the sofa? she wondered. The bedroom? It didn’t matter, just as long as they got there soon. As long as he never stopped kissing her.
She fumbled with the knot of his tie, cursed her inability to make her fingers work faster. Finally, with a whoosh of silk, the tie slid from her hand and dropped soundlessly to the floor. She worked at the top button of his shirt, felt his low growl against her fingertips when she opened buttons and slid her hands inside. The feel of his muscled chest under her palms, the heat of his skin, sent ripples of white-hot need coursing through her.
So it was the bedroom he was directing her toward, she realized when she bumped into the doorjamb. She opened her eyes just enough to catch a glimpse of smoke-colored walls, a mahogany armoire and late afternoon sunlight streaming through the open, dark blue drapes. She couldn’t see the bed from this angle, but she knew it was there, and the thought of making love with Sam, of having him inside her, made her shudder fiercely.
His kisses swept like liquid fire across her jaw, over her chin, down her neck. Certain she couldn’t take any more, she raked her fingernails down his chest, moved her hands toward the buckle of his belt.
“Sam …” She heard the desperation in her voice, his ragged breathing, her heart slamming against her ribs. The sounds swirled in her head, melded together. She kicked her flats off, then rose on the tips of her toes and wantonly moved her hips against him.
On a groan, he tugged her blouse from her slacks and slid his hands underneath, rushed his fingers over her rib cage.
“So damn soft,” he murmured.
As if in slow motion, she felt herself falling backward onto the mattress, the descent steep and long and exciting. His hands covered her breasts, and she sank into a river of erotic sensations, let herself be swept away in the swirling waters.
“I’ve been crazy wanting this,” he said huskily. “Wanting you.”
Crazy. There it was again. The word that seemed to say it all. She looked at Sam, saw the fierce desire glinting in his narrowed eyes as he stared down at her. Crazy or not, how could something that felt this right be wrong?
When he lowered his head to her bare stomach, she simply didn’t care anymore.
It surprised Sam how fragile Kiera felt under him. She was tall for a woman, but her bone structure was delicate, her curves soft and smooth, her breasts firm and round. Her fingers moved restlessly over his back when he touched his lips to the hollow of her belly. When he swept his tongue over her warm, silky skin, she squirmed under him.
The sweet taste of her nearly sent him over the edge, but he held back, wanting, needing to draw that sweetness out. He nipped at the edge of her rib cage, heard her sharp intake of breath. She arched upward, and he slid his hands underneath her, unclasped her bra and shoved the lacy garment up.
When he took one hardened nipple in his mouth, she gasped and raked her fingers over his scalp. He suckled one breast, then the other, teased the peak of each nipple with his tongue and his teeth. The need he felt for her rocked him to the core. Slow it down, he told himself. Get yourself back in control, dammit.
Then she moved her hips against him and whispered his name.
Oh, to hell with it.
Flipping open the single button on her slacks, he blazed kisses along the underside of her breast while he tugged the zipper down, then slid his hand inside to cup her. Soft lace pressed against his palm. When he tightened his grip, she groaned.
Every breath burned his lungs, sweat beaded on his forehead. If he wasn’t inside her soon, he thought he might go mad.
He slid between lace and skin and slipped a finger into the wet heat between her thighs. She bucked upward, and when he stroked her, he felt the bite of her nails across his shoulders.
“Take
