Run To Rome

Trent pushed away from the sink and took the two steps that separated them. He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “I’m always up for a challenge. You sure you want to be it?”

Yes. No.

Oh, God, she was ready to chicken out. So much for the wine.

He didn’t touch her. Didn’t need to. Her pulse raced out of control, stunned she’d actually gone through with the split-second decision to invite his seduction.

Live, Halli. Live.

She turned her head to meet his gaze. Their noses almost bumped. “I’m sure I know my own mind.”

His low, sensual laugh about melted her where she stood. A deep breath should’ve shored up her will-power to present token resistance for appearances sake, but she only got a heady, seductive dose of Trent. Great. He’d win before the challenge even began.

He was going to win, she just didn’t want to stroke his monumental ego by caving so soon.

A soft kiss touched on the corner of her mouth. She kept her eyes open, afraid if she closed them, sensation would completely overwhelm her determination. Their only physical connection was his lips on hers, but she felt the heat of him from her shoulders to her toes. Anticipated the moment she’d feel the full effect of his lean, hard length.

His mouth feathered across her cheek, whisper light, warm on her skin. Somehow, she remained stock still as he brushed her hair back off her shoulder, baring her neck for his exploration. Oh, her heart pounded, stomach quivered, knees weakened and fingers clenched the counter so hard she nearly lost feeling in them, but she didn’t so much as whimper her consent when he located her weak spot under her jaw, just beneath her ear.

His tongue swirled a pattern over her pulse, drew her earlobe between his teeth, then soothed away the sting of his sensual nip. He stepped back. By some miracle, she managed a cool, inquiring lift of her brows. He considered her with eyes darkened to a combination of moss green and burnt amber. She held his intense gaze, and her breath.

He shifted to her other side and started all over again.

She wondered if ten more seconds was long enough to hold out.

When she reached a mental count of nine, he lifted his head with a frustrated growl. “God, you are hell on a guy’s ego.”

The rough edges on his words were her undoing. She sucked in a gulp of air and reached up to pull him back down. Full on, mouth to mouth, no more teasing. Her hands threaded in his hair, pulling closer, closer still. Surprise held him stiff for only a second or two before he wrapped his arms around her and returned the kiss like a drowning man who’d been thrown a life preserver.

But she was the one who’d been drowning. In her rigidly planned, boring, predictable life. She just hadn’t known it until she’d met him.

Halli dragged her hands down, over the taut ridges of his shoulders, wedged her arms between them, and fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. For one wild second, she entertained an urge to grab each side and yank them apart. Would the little round plastic discs pop and fly free, or would the material tear? Either way, the wine only went so far and regular bravery didn’t cover ripping his clothes off.

But wouldn’t that be fun?

He gave her some room to work and caught his breath at the same time. “What happened to ‘I’m more than capable of saying no’, and ‘I’m sure I know my own mind’?”

“I can still say no anytime I want to…right?”

A stillness settled in his body and wariness shaded his eyes. “Right.”

She undid the last button, flattened her palms on his hot skin, and watched her hands slide up the wide expanse of his chest. The bruises on his torso gave her a moment’s pause, but she pressed on. Just the right amount of dark hair tickled her palms, and underneath, the strength and hardness of him felt so good. So did taking charge. Having control of this situation gave her a sense of…freedom.

Completely unlike herself.

Scary, yet exhilarating.

She smiled without a single flicker of uncertainty over her actions. “Then I’m sure I know this is what I want.”

His mouth slanted across hers in an all-consuming, wet, wild kiss that ratcheted the heat between them to an impossible level. They turned, spinning the few feet from the counter to the panel that concealed the sleeping berth. Trent slid it open with one hand, spinning again to pull her down on top of him as he lay back on the bed.

He sucked in a gasp and arched his back. “Ow.”

Halli braced her hands on the bed and levered her weight off him. “Sorry, what—oh.”

In the dim light filtering in from the galley, she saw he’d pulled the gun out from underneath him. His long reach deposited the weapon on a tiny shelf at the head of the bed, while his other arm kept her from moving too far away. The constant reminder of danger only served to reinforce her decision.

Knees on either side of his hips, she straddled him, hips snug against his hard arousal. He drew her down for another kiss. The auburn cascade of her hair was brushed out of the way, only to glide back along her cheeks when his touch skimmed her shoulders, back, and waist, to grasp her hips. Fingers flexed, then sought bare skin under her shirt.