Virgin Promise. Kara Lennox

Virgin Promise - Kara  Lennox


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really, it had been made the moment he walked in the door. She took a step toward him, then another; then she held out her hand.

      She could have sworn his eyes sparkled with their own light. He took her hand and brought it to his lips, all the while staring into her eyes, mesmerizing her. He was magic, she decided.

      Abruptly he stood up, so quickly that his chair fell back. Then she was in his arms again, her lips pressed against his in a kiss that caused her burgeoning passion to well up inside her like an overflowing well. Unlike the simpler kiss he’d bestowed upon her in the living room, this one was a prelude, brimming with promise. Vic held her face between his hands. She couldn’t escape—not that she wanted to. Her mouth was his to pillage any way he desired, and he tried them all—hungry, devouring kisses that involved tongue and teeth and, she’d swear, tonsils, then light, teasing nips that left her limp and almost begging for more.

      His grip on her loosened as he moved his lips along her jaw, to her ear, down her neck and to the hollow of her throat. His hands, meanwhile, explored her back in a proprietary manner that thrilled her. She had committed to him—her body, at least—and he was taking possession. He cupped her bottom with one large hand. The intimate contact ignited a fire deep within her core. She wanted him to touch her there and everywhere. She wanted to shed clothing and feel skin against skin. Never had she experienced such a strong drive to join her body with a man.

      He moved his hands to the top of her dress and eased her vest off her shoulders, then slowly lowered the zipper. Cool night air caressed her back, followed quickly by Vic’s touch against her bare skin, a new level of intimacy.

      “I like your hair down,” he said. “I can bury my face in it, and it smells like flowers.”

      “Thank you.” She’d been noticing the way he smelled, too, like soap and menthol shaving cream, starch, and…yes, baby shampoo. As he kissed the sensitive place between her neck and shoulder, she pressed her nose into his hair and inhaled deeply. The scent reminded her of childhood and, oddly, of safety.

      On some instinctive level she knew she was safe with Vic, no matter what outward appearances told her.

      His talented hands moved to her shoulders and eased the spaghetti straps of her dress down her arms. Yes, all right, she was standing on her roof with nothing on above the waist but a strapless bra.

      “I think—” she began, but he kissed her again.

      “Don’t think,” he murmured.

      “I won’t change my mind. It’s just that…” She couldn’t articulate her thoughts into words when he laid those feathery kisses along her collarbone. She threw her head back and reveled in the new sensations, especially enjoying the feel of his soft lips on the tops of her breasts.

      Her knees were getting weaker by the minute. She wanted to lie down with him, and if they’d been anywhere else but on the roof, she’d have given in to her impulse right there.

      “Vic…”

      “Mmm, what?” His words were muffled. He’d pressed his face against her breasts, teasing the cleft between them with his tongue. No one had ever done anything like that to her before.

      “Um, uh, don’t you…think…we should go…inside?” She couldn’t seem to get enough air into her lungs.

      “Uh-uh,” he said as he moved his hands around to her back, seeking the clasp to her bra.

      “But we can’t…out here….”

      “Sure we can. It’s dark. No one can see us.”

      What he said was true. Out of the immediate sphere of the candle’s glow, it was pretty dark. “But there’s nowhere to lie down….”

      “We don’t have to lie down,” he said, calmly knocking down her most pressing objection.

      But no, she had one more. “Vic, we have to have protection.” Ah, here was evidence she had not gone completely insane. On that one point she would not compromise, no matter how appealing the fantasy of bearing Vic’s child might be.

      By way of an answer he grasped her right hand and tucked it into the inside pocket of his tux jacket, where she felt a long string of square plastic packages.

      “Good Lord, how many did you bring?”

      He laughed, a low rumble that reminded her of his motorcycle. “Enough, I hope.”

      “So you planned this from the beginning.” She wasn’t sure whether she was supposed to be affronted by his premeditation or not.

      He paused in his sensual assault and drew back, looking into her eyes with an honesty she hadn’t seen before. “Sweetheart, I know you’re naive in a lot of ways, but there’s no way you could have recognized what went on here tonight as anything but a blatant seduction.” His voice deepened until it was almost a whisper. “Yes, of course I planned for it. Believe me, there’s nothing that throws a wet blanket over a seduction faster than having to make a midnight run to the 7-Eleven for condoms.”

      Angela laughed despite herself. This was the longest speech she’d ever managed to extract from him, and she got the distinct impression that she’d seen more of his true personality in those few words than he’d allowed her to glimpse before. His sense of humor was shining through. And the picture of him frantically throwing on clothes and making a mad dash to the convenience store…well, it was less than dignified and not in keeping with the controlled alpha male he’d presented to her so far.

      And she liked it. Her affection for him expanded, making her chest feel almost too full.

      She removed her hand from his pocket, letting it slide down around to his back. With one surprisingly coordinated flick of her wrist, she unfastened his cummerbund and let it fall at their feet.

      His eyes smoldered, and her amusement fled. She leaned forward, draping her body against his, to whisper in his ear. “I’d like to know how you’re going to finish this seduction without us lying down.”

      “I’ll show you.”

      Their conversation ground to a halt as once again they concerned themselves with exploring each other’s bodies. Vic’s jacket and tie joined his cummerbund in the gravel, but she left his shirt on, unbuttoned of course. She liked the contrast of the crisp, white cotton to his tanned chest.

      As for her own clothes, the dress ended up around her ankles and the bra disappeared. Vic eyed her garter belt and lace-topped stockings with a low whistle. “You had a few plans of your own, I see.”

      She couldn’t deny it. No matter what she’d told herself about wanting to feel sexy, in the back of her mind she’d dressed for Vic.

      For a long, almost terrifying moment, Vic just looked at her. She’d never stood half-naked for a man’s inspection before, certainly not outdoors. But rather than making her nervous, his hot gaze inflamed her further. She could almost feel rays of desire pouring off him.

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