Ransom (Benson Security 4)

“John?” Belinda was standing right in front of him. Within arm’s reach. A frown puckering her brow.

He clenched his fists tight to stop from reaching for her. This was torture. Pure and simple.

“You’re naked.” The words were strangled, barely making it past his lips.

She shrugged. “You’ve seen me in underwear. This isn’t a big deal.”

“But. You’re naked.”

Now she seemed worried. “John, did you hit your head on the way down the ravine?”

Yes. But that wasn’t the reason he couldn’t think straight. No, that was the fault of the real-life siren standing in front of him. She was a temptation strong enough to lure any man to his doom. His eyes trailed down the graceful column of her throat, over her full breasts, across her flat stomach to the golden curls at the V of her thighs. Golden treasure that he’d touched but hadn’t seen or tasted—yet.

“John? Answer me. Did you hit your head?” she said slowly, as though testing his ability to reason.

He could have told her it was a waste of time. His reason had fled the moment he’d seen her naked. “You’re naked,” he repeated because, honestly, that was pretty much the only thought in his head.

“Yes, John,” she said softly.

She used the same tone doctors used when he’d woken up in hospital after a particularly brutal fight. She was worried, afraid of making his condition worse. Only she couldn’t make his condition worse. His cock wasn’t going to get any harder. It had reached its limit and was strangling in the confines of his pants. Damn, he wished he hadn’t rushed to get dressed.

Slowly, as though trying not to spook him, she put a hand on his arm. His whole body shuddered with her touch.

“We’re in the rainforest,” she said. “The Amazon rainforest. Can you remember my sister’s wedding? You were a guest because of your friend Joe, Julia’s new husband. And then we were kidnapped. We think it was a real kidnapping, but there are some doubts. Now we’re running for our lives and it’s quite possible we’re totally lost. Can you remember any of that?”

Yeah, it was time to step in before she started drawing diagrams of their predicament in the dirt with a stick. He took a step towards her and watched her eyes flare as the realisation that he was a man and she was naked in front of him hit her.

“I’ll tell you what I remember, Hollywood.” He moved his hands, one clasping her nape, the other the curve of her hip. It was almost as though they’d reached for her of their own volition. Beast couldn’t have stopped them even if he’d wanted to. She sucked in a breath, and the noise was heady, making adrenalin surge through his body. “I remember having you on top of me.” His voice dropped an octave and he saw her pupils dilate. “I remember the feel of your body against mine.” The tip of her tongue peeked out to wet her lips and, at the sight, his legs almost went out from under him. “I remember how wet you were and how you gasped my name when you came.” He stepped closer still, until his chest pressed against those hard nipples and her soft breasts flattened against him. “I remember thinking that we needed more.” He lowered his head, until his lips were against her ear. “Do you need more, Hollywood?”

Her reply was a little moan that ripped through his body. She clasped his arms, and he felt her tremble and sway against him.

“Tell me you need more,” he said against the shell of her ear, making her shiver.

“Please, John.”

“I’ll please you, baby. Promise,” he whispered, and then he angled her head and took her mouth with his.

Belinda wasn’t self-conscious about her body. Getting over being naked around people was something that happened pretty fast as an actress. The fact she had a bit of an exhibitionist streak helped too. When she’d decided to strip totally naked, she’d been thinking about washing her underwear. Mainly. In the back of her mind, a tiny voice wondered how John would react when he saw her naked. That same voice wondered if she could tempt him into carrying on from where they’d left off that morning.

She didn’t have to wonder any longer.

Because his reaction was blowing her mind.

His kiss was demanding, without words, that she give all of herself over to him. There was no hesitation. Belinda wanted everything that John promised with his touch. Strong hands caressed her body as John held her tight, leading their kiss. Taking her away from everything. Taking her to a place where only this mattered.

His chest was hot under her fingertips. Muscles rippled and flexed as she investigated him. The urge to sink her teeth into those muscles and feel their strength was almost overwhelming. She wanted to bite, to taste, to tease. She wanted to know every inch of him.

Her hands found the waistband of his trousers, and she quickly unfastened them. He groaned

into her mouth as she tugged his clothes over his hips, freeing him. And then he was in her hand. Thick. Long. Hard. She shuddered with need.

“I want to taste you,” she said against his mouth. She did. She wanted him in her mouth. She wanted to trace the mushroom head of his cock with her tongue. She wanted to know his taste and exactly what kind of touch set him off.

He groaned. “Later. I promise. Later. But right now, I need to be inside you.”

She understood. She felt the same. It was as though every touch since they’d met had been foreplay.

“Yes,” she said, sighing, squeezing the hard, hot heat of his cock and feeling him pulse against her palm. “Yes.”