The Cinderella Mission (Family Secrets #1)(27)
Author: Catherine Mann

What kind of social life could she have had with such overprotective parents and nothing but academics? None, of course. In her sweatshirt and leggings she looked more like a cheerleader on her way home from practice. Except he suspected she’d never had the star quarterback appreciate the fullness of those luscious lips of hers.

She should have.

And dog-in-the-manger be damned, he was glad she hadn’t.

“So, Kelly Taylor.” Ethan hooked a finger in the hem of her sweatshirt, the back of his hand brushing the warmth of her thigh. “Is there anything more I should know about you? In the interest of seeming like a couple, of course.”

Her hand fidgeted with a watering can, turning it so the spout faced inward. “Can’t think of anything that’ll come up in conversation.”

“I don’t know about that.” He let his hand sweep around to the side where her tattoo waited a mere scrap of Lycra away. “It’s probably important I know what that tattoo is.”

She abandoned the watering can, but didn’t move his hand. “You’re certainly a focused man.”

“That I am. So?”

An impish smile teased at her lips. “No one we come into contact with will know.”

Which hinted that someone else did know, and he didn’t like the surge of possessiveness chugging through him at all. He wanted her, damn it. And he didn’t want to want her.

He needed space. Good thing he’d made a morning appointment to meet with a retired agent specializing in gems. Kelly would insist on coming along, but at least their jaunt to North Carolina would take them out of close quarters.

He’d never been any good at denying himself what he wanted. And right now, with his emotions still raw from worrying about her and dredging up ancient history, he couldn’t find the will to do the right thing and push her away. Tomorrow would come around soon enough.

He accepted he would probably never see that tattoo of hers, and he would regret it for the rest of his life. But he damned well didn’t intend to go to his grave without the memory of tasting one long, thorough kiss from Kelly’s beautiful mouth.

Kelly felt Ethan’s eyes on her mouth as surely as if he’d kissed her. And she did so want him to kiss her, this hard man who’d never touched her with anything other than the gentlest of hands.

Ethan tugged her forward by the waistband of her sweatshirt. “I can think of another thing we need to work on in order to pull off this couple cover story convincingly.”

Her heart tripped over the next beat, then forgot altogether about another beat before jump-starting a double pace. “You can?”

“It’s important we look comfortable together—physically.”

Oh, geez. “Uh-huh.”

His hands skimmed up her arms to rest on her shoulders. “We need to lock in that familiarity with kissing.”

“Wouldn’t want to bump noses.” Was that husky voice hers?

“Not a chance.” He angled his head toward her and found her lips with ease.

The scent of musk drifted down around her, mingling with the crisp freshness of melting sleet on his hair. The lingering taste of their chocolate dessert and something distinctly Ethan seeped into her senses with such ease it had to be right.

Part of her insisted the perfection of the meeting of their mouths had more to do with his experience than any pre-ordained rightness. Then his mouth opened, his tongue touching hers for the first time, and she knew there had to be a second time, as well. “Ethan. More.”

He growled his agreement into her mouth.

A desperate need built within her to explore more of him than just his mouth. She combed her fingers through his damp hair and mourned the loss of its length. Desire lending confidence to her inexperienced hands, she tore his shirt from his pants, flicked buttons open, found the incredible chest she’d felt through cotton earlier in the gym.

While he stroked down her arms, over her belly with bold possession, her hands reveled in the undiluted sensation of honed man under her palms. The cut of whipcord strength bulged under her touch. Flexed in response to her caress. A moment’s trepidation shivered through her as she considered why he needed such strength, followed by a thrill from the pleasure the gentleness of that restrained power brought her.

His hands trekked a deliberate path to her hips. One bold callused finger hooked in her waistband, on the same side as her tattoo. He eased back from their kiss until she looked into his eyes. She knew what he wanted and waited for him to find it.

Holding her gaze with his, he dipped one long finger into her leggings, along her hip, exploring until he landed on the patch of skin where the texture would differ. His low growl of appreciation, of possession, sent her up on her toes and into another kiss. He insinuated his whole hand in to cup her bare hip.

She tugged his head down to her and surrendered to the fiery heat of his hand, his mouth, her need.

Again, he traced the patch of inked skin on her hip. Would he guess its pattern? Somehow this sensory investigation of his sent tendrils of desire smoking through her more powerfully than if she’d bared her body to his eyes.

Tingling need pulsed lower with almost painful intensity. She arched into him, closer, rocking her hips against his. Desperate for release after a lifetime of abstinence. Desperate for beautiful memories to overlay the bad. Her hands grabbed his shoulders, gripped, pulled him to her until he winced under her touch.

Winced?

Reality forced its way through her need. She’d been working out, sure, but no way was she strong enough to hurt him yet. “Ethan? Is something wrong?”

He pulled her hand from his left shoulder and pressed a kiss to the center of her palm before replacing it on his chest. “Forget about it.”

He canted toward her.

She jerked her wrist away. She wouldn’t let him steamroll her. “Tell me what’s wrong?”

“Damned pit bull,” he mumbled, pulling his hand from her leggings.

She ignored his comment since he probably only meant to distract her with it anyway. Stretching up on her toes, she tugged his shirt down his shoulder. Purple, green and black bruising stained down his shoulder blade. Her hand fluttered to rest on top. Carefully. “Did this happen yesterday in the weight room?”

He shrugged his shirt back up and flashed her a vintage Ethan grin. “Doesn’t matter.”

She wouldn’t let him distract her with that killer smile this time. “Yes, it does. You were hurt protecting me.”

He cupped her face. “You’d have done the same.”