Defended & Desired Page 17


“I hope so.”

He shut her door, walked around and slid into the driver’s side. Immediately, he lowered the convertible’s top. He needed wind in his hair, something to cool him off, or he’d go caveman on her again the second they walked through her door. After fifteen minutes of listening to the radio instead of hearing her moans filling his ears, he finally pulled into her driveway. His restraint hung by a thread. She reached for the keys to her place, and he lost the battle of keeping his hands to himself. To hell with not crossing the line. He’d handle the consequences later.

The moment she opened her door and stepped inside, he yanked her against him. Then he kicked the door shut with his heel.

Locking his arms around her, he lifted her off the ground and seized her mouth with his. Her lips yielded, and he swept inside. Searching. Claiming. Conquering.

Unlike her former hesitant responses, this time Devon let go. Her mouth turned soft and pliant beneath him, and her tongue curved around his.

Heat snaked through his gut. He lifted her legs up around his waist, held her tight, and moved toward her couch. She combed her fingers through his hair and nearly brought him to his knees. He’d get there eventually, but not yet. He had plenty of exploring to do before his mouth settled between her thighs.

He focused on the incredible way their tongues danced in a rhythm of give and take. Hers was the kiss of a woman who knew exactly who she was and exactly what she wanted. He loved that about her.

When she exhaled, he inhaled. He wanted to own her breath, her taste, her heart. She belonged with him, whether she knew it yet or not.

When his shins hit the couch, he lowered her to the cushions. Kneeling before her, he cupped her backside and yanked her against him. The juncture of her thighs pressed against his erection. He throbbed with the contact, his lower half begging him to strip her naked and sink into her moist heat.

Again, he forced himself to go slow, even though he burned with the desire to take her nonstop, all night.

“God, I want you,” he growled low.

“I want you, too,” she whispered and started unbuttoning his shirt.

Immediately, he took that as an invitation to undress her. He slid the straps off her shoulders. Pulse pounding, he dragged his mouth along her jaw and caught her earlobe with his teeth. She inhaled sharply.

As he moved his lips down the slender curve of her neck, his breath misted on her skin in a hot trail. Her chest rose and fell rapidly. Unable to help himself, he swept his tongue between the shallow cleavage of her pert breasts.

Not enough. Needing her naked, needing to taste her, memorize every nuance of her sexy body, he slid his palms over her shoulders. In one swift move, he brought the straps of her tank stop down her arms, baring her tempting breasts.

The perfect curves sent an arrow of lust straight to his cock. He descended on one breast, cupping the creamy mound and drawing it into his mouth. When he grazed his teeth along her firm nipple, she whimpered and tossed her head back.

Leaving his shirt half-unbuttoned, she raked her hands through his hair, eroding his thin restraint. His muscles hardened, resisting the primal urge to tear off her jeans and panties and drive himself into her heat. All too ready to comply, his cock thickened and lengthened painfully.

When he moved to her other breast, teasing her nipple, Devon’s arms circled his waist. Her fingertips dipped below his belt and her hands fisted in his shirt. She pulled the material until it gave free, then slipped her hands beneath and ran her palms along his bare back.

Her touch sent him soaring into erotic overload. He’d imagined this moment, fantasized about being with Devon for nearly a year. The reality beat the hell out of any fantasy and he fought to hold back the force of his need. Her pleasure came before his.

Damn. He had to taste her. Make her come. Hear her scream his name.

Now.

His shirt still half-unbuttoned, he hauled it over his head, tossed it to the floor, then captured her nipple between his lips. She released a velvety moan and smoothed her hands over his biceps and shoulders as he released her nipple then traveled lower.

After swirling his tongue against her navel, he unfastened her jeans and slid down the zipper. The black lace of her panties came into view. Fixated on the spot, he smoothed his thumbs over the silky undergarment.

“Trey,” she urged him, lightly scratching her nails along his forearms.

“I won’t rush this,” he warned. His gaze leveled with hers. “I’m going to take my time, and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.”

Her eyes glittered over-bright, cheeks stained hot pink. “I guess not.”

He peeled her jeans over her hipbones, and eased the lace edge of her panties down with his thumbs. He bent and kissed her abdomen, flicking her skin with his tongue, lower, lower, until his tongue traced the line of lace that separated him from her intimate taste. Her scent filled his senses and made him light-headed with need.

He couldn’t wait to press his mouth against her—

A sudden ringing came from over his shoulder, like the resonant drone of Tibetan bells.

Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding.

He straightened and turned at the waist toward the sound. “What the hell?”

“Crap.” Devon jerked upright. “It’s him. It’s the hacker. He took my bait.”

Extricating herself from his arms, she stood and pulled up her jeans. Then she raced to her office.

Trey took a full minute to gather himself. Arms braced on the couch, he looked down at the bulge straining his pants and released a growl of frustration. Cursing, he dragged himself to his feet, then followed after Devon.

When he caught the consternation on her face, he reached her with quick strides. “What is it?”

“I don’t know,” she said as she stared at the screen and fixed her tank top. “I think he’s taken over my computer.”

“That’s possible?”

“It’s called remoting in. Basically, he somehow found my private IP address and my encryption-locked password, and he’s using both to take over.”

Trey frowned. “That doesn’t sound good.”

She shook her head. “This doesn’t make sense. I programmed my operating system so I’m the only one who should be able to do this.”

He watched the mouse arrow maneuver eerily around her screen. Like a ghost in the machine.

He gripped the back of her chair with one hand, planted his other palm on her desk, and leaned in for a closer look. Devon’s fingers shook slightly as she jiggled her mouse. The arrow continued to glide around, unaffected by her manipulation, then opened a folder containing pictures.

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