Lissa- Sugar and Spice (The Wilde Sisters 3)

He shook his head. “No.”

She could feel her body’s response, that hot liquidity as if her bones were melting.

“Stop that,” she said.

“Stop what? Can’t a man walk around in his own kitchen?”

“The bread dough…”

“Temperamental. I know.” He reached for her. “Well, so am I.”

She laughed. It was a down and dirty laugh, and it made him harder than he already was.

“Now, Nicholas—”

“Now, Melissa.”

“Nick,” she said, a little breathlessly, and he loved that, the way she sounded, the way her face was flushing, he loved seeing that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. “Nick, my hands are full of flour.”

Without taking his eyes from her, he scooped up a handful of flour.

“So are mine.” His grin turned wicked. “Besides, it’s not your hands I’m interested in right now.”

“Nick—”

“What?” he said as he gathered her into his arms, one hand at the base of her spine, the other cupping the back of her head. “What?” he said again, the one word soft and filled with need.

Lissa looked up into the hard, beautiful face of her lover.

“Just that,” she whispered, “just Nick.”

His eyes went dark.

“Tell me what you want,” he said thickly.

She rose on her toes and kissed him, her lips warm and parted against his.

“Is that all? Just a kiss?”

Her hand slipped between them, over his chest, his abdomen, came to rest cupped over the bulge in his jeans.

Nick’s breath hissed in his throat.

“You want that, too?”

“I’m a greedy woman, Gentry. I thought you’d have learned that by now.”

“How greedy?” His hands went to the button at the top of her fly. Undid it. “How greedy?” he said, as he pulled down her zipper. “Because,” he said, as he began tugging down her jeans, “I can accommodate whatever it is you have in mind.”

Her eyes locked with his. She undid his fly just as he had undone hers. Her hand closed around him and in that instant, he was almost undone.

He caught her wrist, brought her hand to her side.

“Turn around. Lean over the table and put your palms against the surface.”

His voice was harsh. She loved the sound of it, the demand in it.

“Like this?”