Searching for Always (Searching For 4)

"Damn, you're hot. Too bad you're also a pain in the ass and completely wrong for me."

She bared her teeth, more comfortable with the punch of anger that flooded her system. "Good, because it'd be a cold day in hell before I'd pick you as a boyfriend."

"How about a lover?" His breath rushed warm over her lips.

She opened her mouth to tell him this little scene was now over. Instead, the denial tumbled from her lips. "You're my student. We need to keep the boundaries appropriate."

His thumb brushed her lips, as gentle and light as a feather stroke. "That's just an excuse and you know it. You're not my official therapist. There's no hard-and-fast rules about a six-week course."

She stumbled over her next denial. "I don't want a lover. I need three months to cleanse properly from my last relationship."

"What if I can help?"

She managed to snort. "Oh, I know how you want to help."

Stone chuckled, tracing the outline of her lips. She tried hard not to tremble and show weakness, but the melty sensation in her stomach grew worse, and when she tried to squeeze her thighs for relief, she only managed to tip him off that she was aroused. Sweat pricked her brow. She would not lose this battle. If she kept strong, he'd back off and they'd be able to finish the six-week course in harmony. She needed Officer Stone Petty as a sexual distraction as much as she needed a neighbor like Mrs. Blackfire.

"I have a proposition," he drawled. "One kiss. Let's prove to each other we'd be a disaster together."

"I don't need a kiss to confirm you'd be a nightmare to deal with," she shot back. "You're an ex-smoker, workaholic, anger-ridden, meat eater cynic."

His fingers moved to caress her cheek, the line of her jaw, up to her temple. Little brushes of tenderness, contradicting the raw strength and power in those hands and body. Ready to crush her but choosing gentleness. The lust rolled over her in waves, and she fought back with all her power.

"And you're a tree-hugging, naive, post-world hippie with a God complex," he retorted. "Vegetarian, to boot. Plus a hardened criminal."

Arilyn growled under her breath and dug her nails into his shoulders with fierceness. "You know nothing about me, Officer! I am not naive."

"Stone. Now shut up."

His mouth took hers.

She planned to fight back and give him everything she got.

And she did, but not in the way she planned.

The moment those blistering-hot, soft lips met hers, she lost it. Swamped by the delicious scent and taste and feel of him, she arched upward and opened her mouth for more. He muttered something dark and dirty, and slid his tongue past her parted lips and beyond.

Then he showed her who was boss.

Oh, he kissed her with all the hard passion and lust she always dreamed about but never inspired. With her past lovers, she got tender, slow lovemaking, and poetic words murmured in her ear. Moves were coordinated like a beautiful song, and though she was satisfied, and emotionally full, there was an ache deep in her body that never felt completely fulfilled.

She'd thought something was wrong with her and happily ignored that part of herself.

Until now.

Stone Petty owned her. Possessed her. His tongue took what he wanted and demanded it all, with each thrust and complete deflowering of her mouth. He reached around and sunk his fingers into her hair, tugging her head back to expose her throat and keep her helpless beneath him. Her breasts pressed against his hard chest, his erection notched between her open thighs, and he ravished her body and soul, leaving nothing behind but an aching, horrible want for more.

She exploded with her own demands, turning the kiss into something much more. Whimpering, she opened her mouth wider, arched her body up to rock against his hardness, and dug her short nails into his scalp.

"You taste so good," he muttered, biting and sucking on her lower lip. "Like sugar cookies. I want to spread you out, taste you, eat you until you come apart."

His dirty words caused a rush of liquid warmth to trickle between her legs. "Oh, God, this is bad," she gasped, clinging tighter. "Very bad."

"And so good." He ground his erection against her, bumped her clit, and she shuddered, writhing to get closer. "Need more." He ripped his mouth from hers, grabbed the stretchy halter top, and pulled it down to bare her breasts.

She wasn't wearing a bra.

"I just died and went to heaven," he groaned, his hands cupping her breasts and rubbing her tight nipples. She bit down on her lip to keep from crying out, especially when he plucked at her, watching her tortured face as if to see what she liked. "You're like butter and cream, silky smooth. Peach nipples, just like I thought. How do they taste?"

"No, don't, I don't think--oh!"

His lips opened over one aching tip, his tongue swiping over and over, nibbling on her like a feast. She drowned in a tidal wave of sensation, her brain shut down, her body exploding on overload like a bad circuit firing up.

Her past seductions consisted of scented candles, romantic verses read aloud, and the taste of champagne. Silken sheets turned down. Long, endlessly orchestrated scenes that she always dreamed she wanted.

Now she realized how they'd barely scratched the surface of her need. Right now, she wanted to push Stone Petty on the ground, climb on top of him, and sink down until he slid deep inside her. She wanted to get sweaty, be loud, and take pleasure on her terms, with nothing holding her back. With a man who wasn't afraid to be rough, and demanding, and bad.

"I want you. Now. Here." He looked up, his mouth wet, eyes fierce and so filled with hunger she began to shake. "You want it, too."

She did.

But she couldn't.

My God. What was she doing?

Sanity returned. He was all wrong for her! This man irritated her on a constant basis. They'd have crazy sex, and he'd saunter away and torture her with his smug grins for the rest of the anger management class. She was recovering from a broken heart and had no energy to tackle such a sizzling affair. He'd eat her alive. In a good way. In a bad way.

"I can't." Arilyn pushed weakly at his shoulders. Her voice got stronger. "I can't."

She gave him credit. He backed off immediately, hands lifted in the air as he grabbed for his composure. "Okay. Give me a minute." She took the time to yank up her top, straighten her clothes, and get herself together. Stone shook his head hard, rubbed his hands over his face, and let out a breath. "Got carried away."

Satisfaction surged. It was nice to know she wasn't the only one affected by the kiss. Arilyn wondered if she'd ever be able to kiss another man without thinking of Stone. His goatee was a combination of silky and bristly, a delicious contradiction to the softness of his lips. His taste was better than those apple martinis she loved so much. Tart, spicy, with a heat that slid into her bloodstream and exploded in her tummy.

"I did, too," she offered. "I'm sorry."

He scowled. "I'm not. Thought you had more backbone than to apologize for a great kiss."

And just like that, the annoyance was back. "I don't need this type of complication in my life right now," she snapped. "You're a client. We can't blur the lines."

Those lush lips that had bestowed such pleasure now treated her to his famous sneer. "Don't give me that crap. As I just said, I'm not your client, and you're not my real therapist. You counsel me to control my temper, which is getting frayed right now by your sad excuses."

She bristled in fury. "Excuses? I don't need an excuse! We kissed, it was good, I'm over it. Let's move on. The last thing I need is a pushy cop wrecking my life."

He got in her face. "Lady, you wrote the book on pushy. A relationship with you would be a nightmare. But you can't deny we'd steam up the sheets together."

She gave up poetry for this? He was rude, crude, and owned no soft edges. First he kissed her, then he yelled. Even if she wanted a transitional lover, he was all wrong. Arilyn refused to back down, even if she had to tilt her head back to eyeball him. "Classy. You can go ahead and

steam them up with someone else."

He shook his head as if disgusted by the thought. "Can't. Chemistry this good is rare. It may piss me off, but we have to explore it."

She gasped. "In your dreams! It was a complete fluke. I'm not exploring anything with you!"

He studied her with hard eyes, and the man did something so outrageous she didn't see it coming.

He kissed her again. Just manhandled her, pulling her in and planting his lips over hers for a long, deep, thorough kiss that curled her toes and revved her body right up to Ferrari status.

The worst part?