Killer (Savages 2)

"Hey angel," his voice called, light, low, almost... gentle. My eyes drifted upward to his, seeing the tiniest trace of a smile at his lips and warmth in his eyes. Oh, god. He totally caught me checking him out. Great. That was just wonderful. He was going to have a field day with that. "Is that for me?" he said instead, his tone still soft.

"What? Oh," I said, looking down at my hands dumbly. "Yeah. Um... an apology for having such bad manners yesterday," I said, pressing them forward at him to try to make him take them so I could run back to my apartment and throw myself into a humiliated heap on my bed. But his hands didn't reach out. Instead, he backed up a step to leave space in the doorway, a silent invitation inside. "I'll just drop these on the counter. I really need to get going..." So I could, you know, call myself a bunch of awful names in private.

The door clicked as I put the items down and I realized my mistake on turning my back on him. Because one moment, he was across the apartment by the door, the next his entire front was plastered against my back. His hand slid around my belly, sending a shock of desire through my system, settling with a heavy feeling in my lower belly. His other hand moved up to stroke my hair off the side of my neck and I could feel his warm breath there.

"What are you doing?" I whispered, my hands curling hard into the counter top.

"Saying thank you," he replied in kind and I felt his nose brush just underneath my earlobe.

The warning alarm was going off in my brain: danger danger danger. And despite the suddenly pulsating desire between my legs, I knew I needed to heed it. I needed to get away from him because I was seconds away from giving in.

"You're welcome," I said breathlessly, whirling out of his hold and all but running across the apartment away from him, away from the need to go right back to him, to beg him to thank me in every naughty, dirty way he could.

My hand was on the doorknob when it was snagged at the wrist. He used it to turn me, grabbing my other wrist and pulling them both over my head, pinning them against the door behind me. His body pushed forward and pressed the rest of me against it, and him. It happened faster than I could draw a breath and every inch of me felt suddenly like it was buzzing.

"Johnnie..." My voice sounded like a plea, but whether it was for him to let me go or to kiss me already, well, that was up for debate.

"You give me all that fire, baby, then you come over here with baked goods, being all sweet and you thought you could get out of here without being kissed?" He asked and, from so close, I could see the tiny silver ball of his tongue piercing and I wondered what it would feel like teasing my tongue and, well, other things.

"It's a bad idea..." I objected but it was half-hearted. Actually, it was more like third-hearted or quarter-hearted. Okay. They were really just empty words with no heart involved at all.

"Those are my favorite kinds," he smiled slightly, watching my face as he slowly, so freaking slowly, lowered his face toward mine. My breath felt caught somewhere under my ribcage, the sensation making my chest tighten, making me feel lightheaded. Well, maybe it was the close proximity with Johnnie that was doing the lightheaded thing. Every inch of my skin felt like it was begging for more contact, though he was already pressed against me from knees to chest. I was greedy. I wanted his hands running down my sides, across my back, over my belly. I wanted to feel them easing some of the ache in my core. "Don't get ahead of yourself, darlin'," he said, his voice drawling back into a southern accent and I wondered if that was something that happened when he was turned-on.

His nose brushed against mine, a simple, non-erotic touch, but it sent shivers through my body. My eyes closed slowly, my face angling slightly upward in invitation. If felt like an eternity, like time got suspended. Then I felt his lips press into mine and, well, it was worth the wait. With my arms pinned over my head, the pressure just shy of bruising, I had expected hard and hungry. But his lips were the barest trace of pressure. Still, they sent a current through my body. My arms fought the restraint as his tongue traced the seam of my lips. My mouth opened and his tongue moved in, stroking over mine and the bead of the piercing teased across, foreign and exciting, full of promise, before it pulled suddenly away and his lips took mine again.

A whimpering noise escaped me and I felt his mouth smile against mine for a second. His hands released my wrists, his fingers dancing down the sensitive undersides of my bare arms before creeping across my shoulders and up my neck, cupping my jaw with both hands as the kiss deepened. My arms fell heavy to my sides for the barest of seconds before sliding upward of their own accord, resting at the space where his body disappeared under the waistband of his jeans at his hips. My thumbs traced up the deep V of his Adonis belt muscles, then up his sides, over his ribs. I was greedy. I wanted to touch every inch of him. My hands slid around his back and up his spine, grabbing his shoulders from behind and sinking in, pulling him closer to me.

Against my belly, I could feel his erection pressing into me and a primal, desperate part of me begged me to rub against it, to show him the evidence of the chaos between my thighs that he couldn't see or feel but was no less intense, no less demanding of fulfillment. His teeth bit into my lower lip, drawing a moan from my body, the sound echoing off the inside of my skull, making me start, making me see what this was; which was: too far, too fast. The message took a moment to reach my lips so I kissed him back like it was everything, like it was everything we would ever have as my hands slid back down his back and over his ribs until they landed on his hips and started pushing backward.