“You taste like sin,” she whispered against his mouth.
A smile spread across her own as she pulled away and slowly stood. The night’s kiss against her heated skin spread a rash of goose bumps across her flesh, and her fingers fell to the hard nipples at her breasts.
God, she loved the way his eyes reacted when she touched herself. She massaged the aching buds and laughed softly at the exasperated curse that flew from his lips.
“You’re fucking killing me.”
Skye tore her gaze away from his and let her eyes wander down the hard planes of his chest. Savagely, she reached for the shirt that covered what she so wanted to see and practically ripped it from his frame, tossing it aside, where it landed on top of hers.
Her mouth immediately fell to his neck and she nipped and suckled the base, licking slowly, seductively, at the point where his pulse banged out a rhythm of desire. Her nipples scraped gently against the hair on his chest and she sucked in her breath as a new wave of sensation poured over her flesh.
Jagger’s hands wove a trail of fire up and down her bare back while her mouth slowly slid toward his chest, until her tongue flicked a wet kiss against each of his nipples. They, too, hardened, and she rose slightly until her breasts were crushed against his.
Something then slid across her subconscious. A whisper of darkness.
Skye stilled. Her heart beat fast and heavy in her chest as a spike of adrenaline rushed through her veins.
“Don’t stop now,” Jagger uttered, his voice hoarse, edgy with need.
“I just, I …” Skye struggled to clear the fog of desire from her brain. Something was weird. Off.
It tempered the raw need that she felt, but only minutely, and when Jagger once more claimed her nipple, deep in his mouth, she threw her head back.
His hands were inside the waist band of her shorts and he leaned back, pulling the denim from her limbs and leaving her bare to his roving eyes. They were hooded, sexy in their regard of her nakedness.
Skye smiled at Jagger and slowly slid her hands down her belly. She spread her legs open and teased the sweet spot that lay hidden within the folds of her sex with quick, gentle movements.
The sweat that covered Jagger’s skin in a fine sheen quickly beaded and the look on his face was so raw and intense that she stopped her actions.
His eyes began to glow and the tattoos that adorned the hard lines of his abs and left bicep seemed to move. She was transfixed to such an extent that at first she didn’t note the change in the atmosphere.
“Don’t stop now, baby,” he whispered hoarsely, though his voice fell from his lips in layers, and her heart jumped. Something wasn’t right.
Slowly, as if from far away, she felt the beginnings of panic intruding. Skye’s head felt fuzzy and she shook herself, trying to right her body.
Her skin was no longer heated but cold, and a feeling of dread settled deep in her gut. The air around them began to fog as the warmth from the earth reacted to the suddenly cold temperature.
Her desire fled, the need forgotten. Something was desperately wrong.
Jagger seemed to be oblivious to all of this, and when he reached for her, his eyes focused solely on the exposed apex of her legs, she kicked hard and rolled to the side.
“What the fuck?” The words, ripped from his throat were furious. “I can’t, I …”
Jagger stood over her, chest heaving, erection strained against his pants, with his hands clenched tightly at his sides. His face had gone white and she could sense the fury that lay just under the skin.
Skye scrambled away, more confused than ever, looking around wildly.
“Something was"—she swallowed, trying to force the words out—"something was here.”
Jagger’s eyes narrowed and he scented the air. When he turned back to her, his face was tight with anger. “Lady, the only thing that I see is a cock tease.”
Skye shook her head, but no words came forth. She had no clue what had just happened and couldn’t articulate it. She dropped her gaze to the ground, shoulders sunken as she tried to cover her nakedness.
She suddenly felt exposed, cheap.
“You don’t understand,” she whispered.
Jagger suddenly bent low, his breath striking the skin of her cheek. “No I don’t. I don’t understand any of this. I’m not one of your flyboy eagles, and I don’t like games.”