Hot Number (Hot Zone 2)

"I changed my mind. I’m not so sure leaving is best for me after all. I like it here. It's relaxing, it's away from the press…and you're here."

Damian glanced toward the ceiling. How much could a normal guy take? She was sending out blatant signals and he couldn't deny his interest. Hell, he'd been interested for too long and now she was all but offering herself to him.

He'd never denied that he'd been spoiled, the baby brother of sisters who catered to his every whim and the athlete whose money assured him that any woman would do the same. Until now, he'd always known when to draw the line and respected the need to do so.

Micki deserved that same respect, but she so obviously didn't want it, and damned if he could stop himself from acting on what they both desired.

"You're serious?" he asked because he had to be sure.

"About you?”

He nodded.

"I can spell it put for you if you'd like," she said,leaning closer, her fresh scent enticing him. "I’m deadly serious about wanting you. About understanding your rules and not expecting anything beyond this. In fact, I'm so busy at home, I wouldn't have time even if you came crawling on your hands and knees."

He raised an eyebrow, wondering if he'd read her wrong in the past and she really was into short flings, or if she was telling him what he wanted to hear.

Either way, she'd given him a green light. He pushed his chair back and stood. Towering over her, he slid her chair back, too, then braced his hands on the armrests and leaned close, his lips inches from hers.

She swallowed hard and he sensed her nervousness, reminding him that despite the show of bravado, she wasn't the experienced, easy kind of woman he was used to. Somehow it made him desire her more.

He clenched his fingers around the hard wood. "I want you, too."

Her eyes grew wide, the blue pools deepening with pleasure. "So what's holding you back?"

"Not a damn thing." Without hesitating, he sealed his lips over hers and gave into the temptation he'd been fighting.

She sighed, the sound soft and full of complete relief as her lips parted and she took him inside. She tasted of pure woman. He slanted his mouth for better access and thrust his tongue deep and hard.

A part of him realized he was testing her, seeing if his unleashed need would scare her off, because he knew if he took this woman to bed there would be no holding back. He even wondered if a part of him hoped she'd retreat before it was too late.

But she wasn't running away. Instead she pulled him closer, wrapping her arms around his neck so he could continue his assault. And as he circled the warm, moist recesses of her mouth, their tongues tangling, their teeth grazing, he realized they shared an equally overwhelming desire. One that had to be sated immediately.

He reached back, untangled her hands and brought them down to her sides, while breaking the kiss slowly. Gently. In a way that let him savor every movement. The brush of his lips over hers, the soft licks of his tongue across the moisture they'd created, and the light nip of his teeth on her flesh.

She moaned and tried to entice him back into a soul-searching kiss, but he couldn't take another minute of kissing and teasing like they were horny teenagers who couldn't complete the act. Because they most certainly could.

"Let's go upstairs," he said, his voice hoarse with desire.

She nodded. "I think the dining room would be awkward."

"Not to mention, hard on my back."

Micki grinned. "Not as young as you used to be, are you, Fuller?"

He laughed despite how true that statement was. With Micki, he didn't feel the need to hide the painful truth. "Just keep that little secret to yourself."

She met his gaze, the moment suddenly too serious.

"I'm not too old for this." He bent down, lifted her into his arms, favoring his good hand, and carried her straight to his bed.

BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU ASK FOR, Micki thought as Damian swept her off to his bedroom in true fairy-tale form. But if he was her prince, he wasn't the permanent, happily-ever-after kind. Just the fantasy she'd dreamed about for most of her life, and one she had every intention of enjoying.

His bedroom was large with oversize shuttered windows, dark wood furniture, and a navy-and-cream color scheme, all dominated by a California king-size bed. When he laid her back against the pillows, butterflies filled her stomach, but no second thoughts raced through her mind. Apparently he had none either. He straddled her lower body with his thighs and his gaze never left hers as he pulled his shirt up and over his head.

Micki swallowed hard. For a woman who'd spent a lifetime in male locker rooms, she would have thought she was immune to a muscled body. No such luck. The man was sculpted and gorgeous, from his stubbled beard, sexy chest, down to the sprinkle of hair disappearing into the waistband of his jeans.

She'd examine what lay beneath that denim in a little while. For now she wanted to focus on his exposed upper body. "You have a golfer's tan," she mused. With one finger, she traced the tan lines that cut his forearms where his uniform sleeves ended.