Stop Me (Last Stand #2)(49)
Author: Brenda Novak

It’s been too long for me. I’m not playing games.”

“I’m not playing games, either.” As she pressed her lips to the strong pulse at his throat, his hand moved to her thigh. He let it rest there, testing her to see if she’d object. When she didn’t, he slid his hand up the leg of her boxers to cup her bare bottom. Then his eyes fluttered shut and he dropped his head back as if he’d just sampled heaven. “God, that’s good,” he breathed.

Jasmine’s heart was racing so fast she could hardly speak. “I should tell you I’m not on the Pill or…or anything.” Generally speaking, she had no reason to use birth control. She hadn’t even kissed a man in two years.

His eyelashes lifted, revealing fresh intent. “I have a couple of condoms. They were given to me by a friend when I left prison, so they’re pretty old, but they should work.”

Prison. That word hit her like a blast of cold air, and she instinctively pulled back.

He didn’t reach for her, didn’t try to convince her not to worry about his past.

He froze as though he expected the encounter to be over. Maybe that was why he’d brought up the subject—to make sure she knew what she was doing. But it didn’t matter. She wanted him too badly to stop. He was a stranger, and yet she felt as if she knew him, as if they’d already made love. “A condom is better than nothing.”

His hand slid back up her leg, seeking what he’d found earlier. “I’m glad you see it my way.”

“You’re right,” she said when she’d recovered enough breath to speak.

“About what?” He watched her closely, reading her responses, feeding off her excitement.

“I much prefer this to a dream.”

He smiled as he pulled her against him. But when he touched her lips with his, it was very light. He was merely growing familiar before coaxing her to open her mouth to him and let him take the kiss deeper.

He smelled like the outdoors, which was intoxicating in itself, but the security she felt in his arms was even better. She felt as though he could protect her from anything.

She let him kiss her, kissed him back—and clung to him as the hand in her boxers grew bolder and more possessive.

He broke away first, breathing heavily as he looked down at her. “Je suis ivre sur le seul goût de toi.”

“What does that mean?” she asked.

“In summary, wow,” he said while yanking off his T-shirt. He’d done it as a practical matter, not to show off, but the sight of his bare torso sent a fresh charge of hormones through Jasmine.

“Wow indeed,” she breathed.

“What?”

She tugged at her bottom lip. “Nice chest.”

He was too focused on her to respond to the compliment. “Your turn.”

She struggled to gain some control over her galloping heart rate, but it felt as if she’d stepped off solid ground. She couldn’t remember ever being so completely enthralled. “I hope you weren’t making false promises on the phone,” she teased.

Suddenly self-conscious, she’d resorted to talking as a way to put off removing her clothes.

“I don’t make promises I can’t keep,” he said and placed her on her back.

Jasmine’s hands curled into fists. “That’s good news. I think.”

His gaze swept over her. “I only see one problem.”

That she was suddenly terrified to go past the point of no return? “What’s that?”

He ran a finger beneath the elastic waist of her boxers, raising gooseflesh on her belly. “Access.”

He began to remedy that, but she quickly stopped him. “I’m a little nervous,”she explained. “Maybe I can make you…uh…happy another way.”

His eyebrows went up. “You’re serious?”

“I think so.”

“Sorry, I’m not remotely interested in a consolation prize.” He slipped his hands under her shirt, brushing his thumbs over her br**sts. “But we don’t have to do anything until you’re ready.”

She didn’t remember giving the go-ahead on the clothing removal, but her shirt was gone a minute later. She didn’t object. Catching his whisker-roughened chin, she forced him to look her in the eye. “This is crazy. Are we sure we want to do this?”

“You’re kidding, aren’t you?” He was obviously too far gone to even consider bailing out.

“I’m not kidding.”

“Trust me.” He trailed kisses down her neck, moving lower until he touched the tip of one breast with his tongue.

She gasped and tried to pull away, but there was nowhere to go. Her escape attempt was halfhearted to begin with.

“Something wrong?” he murmured.

She didn’t answer him. Her boxers were already on their way to her ankles, and from then on he made sure the only thing she uttered was a moan.

Romain’s injuries hurt, but not nearly as much as he’d expected. He made love to Jasmine twice before he even remembered he’d been in a fight.

“I’ve finally made up my mind.” Her shyness gone, she lay next to him covered only in a fine sheet of sweat, one arm over her face.

He rolled onto his side so he could admire the view. She was even more beautiful than he’d imagined. But very different from Pam—smaller, darker-skinned, bigger-breasted, with stunning, almond-shaped eyes that’d been so unguarded they’d held him mesmerized as he moved on top of her.

He hated that Pam had already entered his thoughts, but he supposed it was inevitable. “About what?”

Smiling, she lifted her arm to peer at him. “I don’t think we should make love.”

“Okay,” he said. “I won’t touch you.” But he ran a finger from her collarbone to her belly button, and she didn’t stop him. “We’re out of condoms, anyway.”

“Then my timing’s good.”

Personally, he wished they had one more. “You ready for breakfast?”

“Definitely.”

“Do you like pain perdu?”

“What is it?”

“French toast.”

“As long as it comes with coffee,” she said and yawned as she stretched.

He resisted the urge to cup her breast again. “I can arrange that. Would you like cream?”

“And sugar.”

He got up to put on his boxers, jeans and a sweatshirt. It was a crisp morning.

Now that they were no longer sharing body heat, he was beginning to feel the cold.