Power (Special Tactical Units Division 1)
Page 66
What she looked like was the most beautiful woman imaginable.
He owed her an apology. An explanation.
To hell with that, Tanner thought, and he gathered her into his arms, bent his head to hers, and claimed her mouth.
CHAPTER SEVEN
What in hell did Superman think he was doing? Did he figure he could get out of this by kissing her into silence?
Ridiculous.
The arrogant idiot.
He owed her an apology. Okay. Maybe not. Why would she give a damn what he believed about her? The point was, she was not into machismo and she was certainly not into hot, sweaty sex with a stranger, and if that was where he thought this was—where he thought this was—where he thought…
Dio!
Who cared what he thought?
Alessandra’s brain blanked out everything but the kiss.
The hot demand of Tanner’s mouth.
The strength of his embrace.
The beat of his heart against hers.
And, oh, the hard thrust of his erection against her belly.
She moaned.
He drew her closer.
Her hands slid up his chest, to his shoulders; she wound her arms around his neck, dug her fingers into his dark hair, and the world tilted.
He groaned with satisfaction, cupped her ass, lifted her into him, changed the angle of the kiss, took it deeper, darker, hotter.
She sucked on the tip of his tongue and he groaned again. The sound was one of raw, pagan want. Her body responded with a rush of molten heat between her thighs and she fisted her hands in his cotton T and leaned into him.
He said something low and harsh as he thrust his leg between hers.
Oh. Oh yes. Yes…
She rubbed against his leg.
He slid his hands under her shirt.
His hands were big. Warm. Rough from work.
He stroked one hand down her back. Lower. Lower. Slid it inside the waistband of her scrubs. His fingers on her naked flesh.
She shuddered. Shoved up his shirt. He made a little sound in the back of his throat as she explored him. The tautly muscled shoulders and pecs. The swift beat of his heart. The toned, exciting washboard abs…
He pushed her hands away.
She whimpered in protest until he tore his shirt over his head and yanked her into his arms again. She caught her breath at the feel of him. Hot skin. Hard muscles.
He caught her wrists.