Burned Deep (Burned 1)

I glanced at the wall behind me, eyeing the space.

“Assessing pictures to hang?”

My head whipped around. Dane stood just inside my office, closing the door behind him. Since it had an automatic lock, excitement gripped me. It was after seven and I suspected most everyone on the floor had gone home.

Trying not to sound all breathy and awestruck at the sight of him, I said, “I was just thinking that I need corkboard on the wall so I can hang some of these decoration ideas. I need them staring me in the face to help spark my creativity.”

“I’ll take care of it,” he said.

“I’m sure you have more important things to do.”

“At the moment, yes.” He crossed to the tall windows and pulled the drapes. The room immediately dimmed, since the chandelier was the only light I had on and it was at a low setting.

I didn’t have time to process all the electric undercurrents running rampant at his suggestive gaze. He popped the buttons on his suit jacket and I just about incinerated at his feet.

Moving closer, he reached for my hand and pulled me to him.

“We really shouldn’t at the office,” I weakly protested.

“You don’t leave me many options when you work late.”

“I have a lot to do.”

“Mm, so do I.” His eyes dropped to my mouth. “Starting here.” His warm lips brushed over mine.

Our lips tangled. Slowly. Seductively. Had it been anyone else guiding me in this direction, I would have said it was pointless to try to engage me in this manner.

But I wasn’t dealing with just anyone.

Dane knew how to draw me in, completely and provocatively. So that I eased toward him, wanting more. So that I responded by curling my fingers around his biceps, hating that his suit jacket kept me from getting a better grip on him.

His tongue swept over my bottom lip and a moan lodged in my throat. He took that as encouragement and his tongue slipped inside, twisting and teasing. His arms slid around my waist and he hauled me up against his solid chest and abs.

The kiss went on and on. Becoming more seductive. More searing. More powerful.

In the hazy part of my mind, I finally understood why I’d never gotten seriously involved with anyone. No one had ever affected me like this. No one had ever kissed me like this. So that my hold on him tightened and I met the changing inclination of his head, testing all the different angles, not breaking the intimate contact. So that I tasted him, breathed him in, experienced all the passionate nuances of a scorching kiss that pushed everything from my mind except the excitement coursing through my veins and the feel of Dane responding so vehemently, so skillfully, that I could think of nothing but him.

I didn’t even hesitate, didn’t balk, when he led me to the sofa, still kissing me deeply. The backs of my legs bumped the couch and we eased down onto the plump cushion. I rested against the pile of pillows in the corner, the satin quilt beneath me. His fingers grazed my bare thigh, at the hem of my skirt.

The incessant throbbing within me began again. I instinctively clenched my legs together in hopes of staving it off, to somehow quell or slow the need building much too quickly.

He broke our kiss and against my lips simply muttered, “Ari.”

My eyelids fluttered open. His gaze was fixed on me. Fiery and demanding.

“Don’t stop me.”

My chest rose and fell in sharp, staccato beats that matched my heart. My pulse jumped at pressure points that made me insanely aware of how much I wanted him, how much I didn’t want to stop him.

But my legs remained pressed together.

He kissed me again and it sizzled. We sizzled. I got ridiculously caught up in the heat of the moment, swept away by the sort of sexual chemistry that made sensible women do irrational things. Like shove a man’s suit jacket over his shoulders and down his arms as he continued to do sinful things with his tongue. Like fumble hopelessly with the buttons on his shirt, fingers trembling because I wanted him so much that he had to help.

As the material hung open, I ran my hands all over his hard chest, his cut abs, even reaching around to his back and splaying my palms over muscles that flexed beneath my touch.

He was so hot, so beautifully chiseled. I wanted to strip him bare and crawl all over him, rubbing myself against him, feeling his skin on mine.

He kept kissing me as though he couldn’t get enough of me. The thought sent a thrill down my spine.