Taking the Leap (River Rain 3)

Actually no.

He wasn’t walking.

He was stalking.

And my panties were not damp.

They were moist.

I kept moving, so did he, but he again started talking.

“We got a sitch here, sweetheart,” he warned in that sinister tone.

“Rix—”

“Say my name one more time,” he dared.

I wasn’t quite certain what that meant, though from the flare in his eyes after I spoke his name, my female parts did, so I grew quiet about the time I ran into an armchair.

I shifted directions, so did he, herding me, and I had no choice but to head toward the couch.

Shit!

He continued talking.

“Now we’re together for your family, my family, and fucking Peri.”

I pressed my lips tight.

The backs of my legs hit his couch.

The front of Rix’s body hit me.

Otherwise, he didn’t touch me.

I didn’t notice, though. I was concentrating on my nipples brushing his chest and panting.

He’d bent his neck and his face was close to mine.

“You get this, hey?” he asked softly.

“We can…we can…we can call it all off,” I offered.

His brows snapped together, the room burst into flames (not literally, but it felt like it), and he growled, “We can?”

“No,” I said swiftly, feeling that was the only safe answer.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his eyes roaming my face, my hair, settling on my lips. “No. That dress. That hair. My mom I know is right now planning the weekend menu. Josh’s probably already been ordered to clear his schedule. My phone rings, it’ll be Hailey, because she’ll be all over that Elsa bullshit.” His face dipped closer. “In case you missed it, Alex honey, we just got in this for a lot longer fuckin’ haul.”

I was hearing his words.

I was even, in a way, processing them.

The problem with that was, I was watching his lips, from close, forming them.

And he had really beautiful lips.

So when he was done, this registered in some primal part of my brain that might be primal, but it was still polite, because I didn’t interrupt.

But when he stopped, the coast was now clear.

And he was right there.

And my nipples were brushing his chest.

So, obviously, I jumped him.

Our lips crashed together, smushing against our teeth, Rix emitted a pained grunt, and my sanity returned.

It evacuated entirely when he suddenly had two handfuls of my ass, his fingers squeezing a message I didn’t hesitate to respond to by hopping up.

I had my legs around his hips a nanosecond before I had my back to the couch and Rix’s weight on me.

Ohmigod.

Heaven.

Though his body was on me, it was my tongue in his mouth.

He’d had a beer.

I tasted that.

But other than that, it was heat and strength and musk and Rix.

In other words, I couldn’t get enough.

I’d never get enough.

But in that moment, I gave that effort my all.

This effort lasted so long, my hands were up his tee discovering the wonderland of the muscles of his back, and his hand was up my skirt and down my panties, skin-to-skin on my behind.

Abruptly, my body was jerked, he was seated, I was straddling his lap, his hand was still on my ass, but his other one had forced my mouth from his to the side of his neck.

His was on the side of mine as he growled, “Jesus, fuck.”

As those two words slithered down my spine, I realized I was panting.

I tried to stop doing that.

I failed when I felt the result of my kiss pressing between my legs.

Rix was hard.

And I’d made him that way.

My stomach did a somersault.

My brain panicked.

I began to move.

He clamped down with both hands.

He also whispered, “Please.”

That was it.

That was all he said.

I stilled.

Slowly, gently, he slid his hand out of my panties, out from under my skirt, and wrapped that arm around my lower back, letting go of the pressure he had on my neck.

Slowly, mortified, I lifted my head.

Mortification fled at the molten caramel heat in his eyes.

Heat.

For me.

“You’re a fuckin’ great kisser, honey,” he whispered, eyes to my lips.

Well, there you go.

Rumor verified.

“Thanks,” I whispered back.

His gaze came to mine. “As awesome as that was, maybe we need to go a lot slower when it comes to that.”

My mind thought that was probably a good idea.

Other parts of my body ardently disagreed.

However, I pressed my lips together and nodded.

“Though, to make things clear, I want that from you,” he declared.

My heart skipped fifteen beats.

“You hear me?” he asked.

“I heard you, Rix,” I answered.

“Your call. Always, baby. Hey?”

“Hey,” I replied softly.

“Have you met the queen?”

Even if his eyes were maybe two inches away, I looked anywhere but at them and mumbled, “Ummmmmmm…”

His “Shit” was both amused and uncertain.

I looked right at him.

The time being nigh had passed.

So now it couldn’t be avoided.

Thus, I stopped doing that.

“I have a thirty-five million dollar trust fund. I won’t inherit anything of the Norton estate. Since Mum’s an only child, that’ll go to Blake, but more, her firstborn son, including the seat in the House of Lords. Though there are certain pieces of jewelry that have been earmarked for me. That said, I’m not allowed to sell them or bequeath them out of the family, and neither are my children. As you can tell from this, clinically, which is how my family operates, Blake and I have been fully informed of the arrangements. A hint of these, since Blake’s inheriting Mum’s flat in New York, I get Dad’s brownstone. Blake gets the house in the Hamptons and the apartment in Paris. I get the 80-foot yacht in Miami and the compound on Mustique. My grandmother took a shine to me, that’s Dad’s mom, and left me her jewels, furs and gowns. All of them. And there are a lot of them. Blake was livid. Right now, for safe keeping, they’re in a high security, temperature-controlled vault in Dad’s brownstone.”