She looked irritated. Her fingers started tapping a steady rhythm on the edge of the box. “I know that.”
“Numbers can’t tell you what’s going to happen next.”
“What’s likely to happen,” she said stubbornly, precise as always.
“Really?” Her certainty was kind of cute, but she was still wrong. All the numbers in the world couldn’t tell you exactly what was going to happen next, or even what was likely. Statistically speaking, Lars shouldn’t have died, nor should Dani have been out here in this storm. Those were both mistakes.
He leaned closer. “This is a rescue situation. That means we’re playing by my rules, Dani. I decide what happens next.”
Now that she was out of the rain, her hair was starting to dry in waves kinking up at the ends. He liked her natural look. Her eyes widened as he got within kissing distance, and Dani off-balance was even sweeter. The heat building between them didn’t fit into her neat model of the universe, and she hadn’t decided what to do about that.
So he might as well give her something else to think about.
“What’s the probability of my kissing you?” His mouth was close enough now to brush hers.
She opened her mouth to say something—of course she had an answer and a number for everything—and he took ruthless advantage, covering her lips with his. Since she’d been getting ready to speak, the kiss started out on a whole different level. Their tongues touched. To hell with it, he decided, giving his instincts free rein as fiery heat exploded through him. He kissed her deep, his tongue tangling with hers.
His professional side was yelling at him to hold on tight. His gentlemanly side—which was just about nonexistent—however, insisted he back off. Instead, she leaned into him. Her palms flattened on his chest. Damp cotton and the heat of her fingers sliding over him shouldn’t be such an instant turn-on. But it was. He wanted more, so he kissed her with everything he had, his mouth moving hungrily over hers.
When he finally came up for air and opened his eyes, damned if she wasn’t watching him. The pink flush on her cheeks reddened when he caught her. Busted. For all he knew, she’d been watching him the whole time while he was lost in her incredible response to his kiss. He didn’t want her observing; no, he wanted her to feel.
“Close your eyes,” he said hoarsely.
She met his order with an impish smile of her own, her lashes drifting slowly down.
Leisurely, he explored her parted lips with his tongue, tasting her. She was warm, welcoming...amazing. Maybe he wasn’t so bad himself, because she gasped and curled her fingers tightly into his shirt. She pressed and pressed into him as if she was impatient. He had enough patience for both of them. This time, when he lifted his head and opened his eyes, hers were still shut. Or he simply hadn’t caught her peeking.
The giggle shaking her body had him shaking his head. Yeah, she’d outsmarted him there.
“You cheated,” he accused.
“Prove it.”
“Mmm,” he said. “Maybe I’ll just get even.”
Taking his time, he kissed her eyelids gently and then continued along the side of her jaw. He hoped she was enjoying this; he was certainly enjoying her.
“Uh-uh,” he said, when her eyelashes fluttered. “My way.”
She must like doing things his way, too, because a husky moan left her throat when he gave her more kisses, his thumb stroking the soft curve of her face. She tugged hard on his T-shirt, pulling him where she wanted him, and took them both down to the floor.
Rolling onto his back, he positioned her on top of him. The heat exploding through him at the feel of her was pushing him toward the edge. She stretched and rubbed her breasts over his chest as she straddled him. Yeah. This was what he needed.
He kissed her more passionately, giving in to their ravenous hunger for each other. Their raw need seemed insatiable. And she met him kiss for kiss. She made him like this, and his only consolation was that he wasn’t alone. She was right there with him.
“See?” he whispered, pulling back from her mouth. Her lips were wet and swollen, demanding his attention again. “My way isn’t so bad, is it?”
“Kiss me again and I’ll let you know,” she demanded. Her mouth met his, her teeth nipping at his lower lip before her tongue swept inside. And as quick as that she’d fired up his arousal; the desire and pleasure of her kiss drowned out the storm outside and the insistent pain in his thigh.
She devoured him, and he gave back as good as he got. His lips were locked on hers in a primitive battle. This needed to be what she wanted. She shouldn’t feel pressured or uncomfortable because they were alone in her cabin in the middle of this chaos.