Spitfire in Love (Chasing Red 3)

Cameron’s blue eyes were even deeper, somehow more intense, in the muted glow of the light. They were patient as he followed Dylan to the front door—no, not patient. They were waiting. Anticipating what was to come.

I heard my brother’s footsteps and Cameron’s, then the click of the lock.

The echo it made in the room was as loud and heavy with meaning as a declaration of war.

Then those eyes, with those deep-blue irises, shifted to mine.

Conquer me, they challenged, before I conquer you.

It was bait.

And I wanted to bite.

I curled my hands into fists and instinctively stepped back, stopping when the back of my knees hit the couch.

The effect he had on me was undeniable, and I didn’t care for it. I didn’t like the way I felt defenseless around him, how he could strip away my reasoning just by looking at me.

As if he heard my thoughts, his lips, slowly and deliberately, formed into a smile.

I got you, his smile said, exactly where I want you.

Strength and controlled power showed in every movement of his body as I watched him cross the room toward me. His body was big and sleek, like a stealthy cat roaming the jungle, patient and hungry.

My eyes took in the long lines of his arms, the ripple of muscles, the veins that stood out like cords, his thick wrist. Every part disciplined, tight, and masculine.

He stopped in front of me.

“Kara.” He whispered my name. His voice was deep and rich, and my name sounded and felt so carnal coming from his lips. “Tell me why you’re here.”

I tried to answer. God knows I tried, but my body wouldn’t cooperate. It felt so easy, so sinful, like a soft, silky feather stroking my skin, to give in. Let someone else take control for once. No, not just someone. It had to be him. I closed my eyes in defense. I was losing, and surprisingly, I didn’t seem to mind. Was this what it felt like to want? To need?

The air was thick with tension, and I felt it shift before his fingers stroked the inside of my wrist. Once, twice. Then it was gone.

My lips opened a fraction, letting out a sharp breath. An expulsion, a way my body dealt with the surging desire in the aftermath of his touch.

Or maybe, maybe, it was a silent demand for more.

“Open your eyes,” he said softly.

I kept them closed.

“Kara.” His voice was soft as velvet, coaxing. “Look at me.”

But what would happen if I did?

This was something I’d never felt or experienced before. I’d never been this close to anyone nor had I wanted to be.

I was teetering between two worlds—the one where I would stay the same if I stepped away from him now, and the other one where the world I knew would end and change to something unfamiliar.

Which one would I choose?

I always put others before me. Responsibilities, commitments, family. When was the last time I did something just for the hell of it?

I opened my eyes. And stared right into the blue of his.

He was ruthlessly beautiful. The straight, dark brows, the deep-set eyes, the long, straight nose, the full lips. And all that beauty framed by soft, black hair.

I had thought he looked like a dark archangel when I first laid eyes on him. I still did.