Strong and Sexy Read online

  “Do you think . . .” She nibbled on her lower lip in a way that made him want to do the same. “That maybe it’s all just an adrenaline rush? This . . . attraction? After all, there’s been a lot of adrenaline.”

  “You really think what happened between us was just adrenaline?”

  “Well, it’s possible, right?”

  Possible, yes. And he’d love for it to be nothing more than that. In fact, having this all be just an adrenaline rush would be perfect.

  So perfect, and to see if that was the case, he covered her mouth with his, and as his body leapt to attention, he had to agree. A good part of this was definitely adrenaline. Not to mention sheer, unadulterated lust.

  But it wasn’t only his body involved here. Unfortunately, his heart was too, and that meant more than just adrenaline and lust. A little stunned, he lifted his head.

  She was staring at him with the same shell-shocked expression. “It should have worn off by now.”

  “Maybe we didn’t try hard enough to get it out of our system.”

  “Okay,” she whispered, game, so he kissed her again, deeper, hotter, wetter, and this time when he lifted his head, she let out a slow, shaky smile. “Still feel it. You?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “Maybe . . . maybe you should show me what you had in mind for this ice cream. Maybe that would do it, get each other out of our system.” Her smile was a little hopeful, and a whole lot hot.

  But not nearly as hot as he felt. Slipping his hands beneath her, he stood and turned, then let go of her.

  “Oh,” she gasped as she bounced into the cushions of the couch. “Oh,” she murmured again when he dropped to his knees.

  Between hers.

  The first thing she did was make sure her skirt was still covering her. Adorable. But so not necessary, because he had plans. Plans that did not involve the skirt. He held out his hand for the spoon. “May I?”

  Looking a little breathless, she hesitated, then handed it to him. “Um, I—”

  “Party for two now, remember?”

  Her gaze never left the spoon. “Right.” Licking her lips and fidgeting, she looked a little nervous, which only upped the anticipation. Dipping the spoon into the now softened ice cream, he touched it to her nose.

  “Hey—”

  And her chin.

  “Shayne.”

  And the very base of her throat.

  “Wh-what are you doing?”

  “Making my very own ice cream sundae.” Leaning in, he licked the drop from her nose. Her chin.

  Her throat.

  “Oh,” she breathed with a sweet little shudder as her hands sank into his hair. “I like that.”

  “Good. That’s good.” His fingers closed on the zippered tab of her sweater, just beneath her throat. He loved how she’d zipped it all the way up to the top, as if she was all prim and proper, because he’d seen her decidedly unprim and unproper, and was hoping to get her there again.

  All in the name of getting her out of his system, of course.

  With one hand he slowly pulled the zipper, the other dipping the spoon back in for more ice cream.

  “Shayne?”

  “Yep, still right here . . .” Oh, yeah, he thought, watching as he unzipped, revealing a strip of creamy smooth skin from her collarbone to her sexy belly button.

  No bra, just some great cleavage.

  Holding her gaze, he slid a hand into the sweater, gliding his fingers over her ribs, up to a breast, letting his thumb slowly circle her nipple.

  Her breath caught, and she tugged her lower lip between her teeth. “Shayne.”

  Sliding his hand up even higher, he nudged the sweater off her shoulder, which gorgeously exposed one of her breasts.

  She shivered.

  “Cold?”

  She shook her head, her hair tumbled around her shoulders. “No.”

  He felt lost in her illuminating eyes, in the rosy blush riding her cheeks, in that wild hair. Lost, and yet somehow found. “You’re so beautiful, Dani,” he murmured, his thumb rasping over her nipple, tugging a sigh of pleasure from her. Her eyes drifted shut as he brushed the sweater from her other shoulder, then, holding the spoon above her, he let the ice cream dribble down her ribs, over her quivering belly.

  “Oh,” she breathed, and then again when he brought the spoon up to her breast and painted a chocolate stripe right over her skin.

  Beneath the chocolate ice cream, her nipple puckered up into a hard, tight little point.

  “Okay, now I’m cold,” she gasped.

  “I’ve got it.” Leaning in, he put his mouth to her stomach and began his dessert, licking off the ice cream, slowly devouring both it and her.

  Her hands tightened in his hair as he nipped, sucked, and teased his way up to her nipple. Hovering just above it, he let out a warm breath, and she shivered.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  Oh yeah, he’d please. He’d please her all damn night if she let him, and he drew her into his mouth. “Good?” he asked against her skin.

  Panting for air, a slight, helpless rocking of her hips against his, she didn’t answer.

  “Dani?”

  “Good,” she managed. “It’s good. Lots more good, please.”

  Her polite tone made him smile, and he reached for more ice cream, wanting to see her come completely undone, come all over him. Slowly he bunched up the flimsy material of her skirt, slipping it up over her knees, her thighs.

  Her gaze, still on his, widened. She softened the grip she had on his hair and put a hand over his, halting his progress. “Um.” She tightened her legs, but with him between them, she couldn’t close them. “Shayne?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’ve . . .” She blushed. “Sort of got an alfresco situation going on here.”

  “I know.” Gently nudging her fingers out of his way, he slid her skirt up—

  “You’re not really going to—”

  “Yeah.” He got the skirt past her upper thighs, to her belly, then groaned at the sight of her, legs sprawled open, held there by his hips, no panties, nothing but Dani, all pink and glistening.

  For him. “I’m really going to.”

  He was really going to. “But . . .” Dani struggled to form a sentence, and failed.

  “Are you allergic to ice cream?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “Then trust me.”

  She held her breath. An ice cream sundae. The man wanted to make her his own personal ice cream sundae. She’d never done such a thing before. To be honest, she’d never really had a lover take so much time to get her naked.

  Or spend so much time just looking at her.

  Not to mention the touching, and the tasting—

  “Ohmigod,” she gasped as the ice cream dripped from the spoon, low on her belly, over her hip, the top of her thigh . . .

  And then between.

  At the contact of the cold dessert on her sizzling hot skin, she nearly imploded right then and there, but then there were his eyes, also sizzling hot, watching her reaction as he leaned over and licked her.

  After all, she was his dessert. But oh. My. God. In that moment, she couldn’t remember why she wanted to resist, or even get him out of her system. Hell, she could hardly remember her own name.

  “You’re the best flavor of ice cream I’ve ever had.”

  Unbelievably, just his words brought her to the edge. Aided, of course, by the fact that she sat wantonly spread on the couch, nearly naked—which somehow felt more naked than totally naked—and him still fully dressed. Her hips kept moving of their own accord, in a rhythm she couldn’t seem to stop, and though she wanted to close her eyes rather than watch him watch her, she couldn’t seem to do anything but utter a soft, helplessly needy whimper.

  Understanding completely, he went back to the job at hand, which apparently was to drive her slowly out of her mind. He handled the task with aplomb, using his fingers to hold her steady, his lips, his tongue, even his teeth, to