A Little Harmless Obsession (26 page)

“You know I’m not embarrassed to be seen with you. In fact, I would probably gain points for the gossip it would cause.”

He heard the smile in her voice and responded in kind.

She shook her head. “It isn’t being seen with you that would bother me. It is everyone knowing…well, knowing.”

Resting his chin on top of her head, he gently rocked her. “What does that matter? Everyone knew about you and Max.”

The sigh she released was filled with irritation. “Yes, they did. But, you see, I was marrying Max. A Myers doesn’t have one-night stands.”

He heard the scorn in her voice. He hoped it was more for what she’d had to endure than what had occurred between them. Glancing over his shoulder, he located a chair just a few steps back.

“Tell you what,” he said as he walked both of them to the chair. “Why don’t we have breakfast, and then you can go?”

Then he reached the chair, he sat, pulling her down with him. She wiggled and crossed her arms beneath her breasts. Breasts he wanted to touch, lick, taste. Since he was nude, he knew she felt his erection. She stilled, looking down at him, her eyes simmering with passion.

“Chris.” She was trying to sound like she disapproved. It wasn’t working. Mainly because he could see the pulse in her neck jump and hear her breathing increase. “You would think…” She closed her eyes as he grabbed hold of her hips and ground against her. “Think what?” He nipped at her earlobe.

She drew in a shuddering breath. “Chris…”

This time, there was such yearning in her voice it made him want to shout with triumph. She needed him like he needed her and playing fair was off the table. Knowing how sensitive her breasts were, he slid one hand up under her blouse and beneath the fabric of her bra. A few strokes of his thumb was all it took.

Her nipple pebbled, and she moaned.

“Come on, chéri. Once more.”

And even though he said it, he silently acknowledged once would never be enough. He’d never felt this connection with a woman, the need to bring her into her own, to teach her the things that would make her complete. He moved his hand to caress her other breast, and she relaxed against him.

“This is our one chance.” He didn’t believe that. He would figure out some way to make it work, even thousands of miles apart. “Why would we not enjoy ourselves?” She shuddered, her rear end wiggling over his erection. As the blood rushed from his brain, he had to beat back the caveman who said to throw her down and show her just how good they were together.

He slid his hand beneath her skirt. As he skimmed one finger along her slit, he pinched her nipple with the fingers of his other hand. Her gasp was filled with surprise and arousal.

“Chris…”

Her sex was so damp her panties soaked with her passion. She moved with him, her body taking over even if she still harbored doubts.

“That’s it, baby. So wet.”

In one abrupt motion, she pulled away from him and off his lap. He opened his mouth to argue with her, but she shook her head. She settled her hands on her hips, her breath coming out in gasps. Licking his lips, he noticed her nipples pushing against the fabric of her shirt.

“You know, you like to tell people what to do. But I’m not sure I want that.” Again, his mouth opened in protest, but she touched her index finger to the tip of his cock, spreading around the beads of moisture that had bubbled up. Catching his gaze, she lifted her hand to her mouth, licking her fingers. A simple act, but it was probably one of the most erotic things he’d witnessed in his life. She put her finger between her lips, sucking the rest of the liquid off.

When she finished, she slid her finger out and smiled. “I was right, Mr. Dupree. You are delicious.” Her voice dripped with seduction, arousal, her Southern accent deepening, turning him inside out. He moved to stand, but she stepped forward and placed her hand on his shoulder.

“Uh, uh, uh. Mr. Dupree, I think we are having problems communicating here.” She trailed her fingers over his chest as she walked around the chair. Once she was behind him, she settled her hands on his shoulders, rubbing his tense muscles. “I think for once I should be the one to decide about this. True, you played along with me yesterday, but I don’t know if you suffered enough.” He wanted to tell her that he had not been playing along. That he understood her need to dominate.

She stole any rational thought as she moved her hands to his head, massaging his scalp. Chris closed his eyes and leaned his head back to rest on her breasts.

“You know, I have a feeling you enjoyed yourself last night.” He chuckled. “How did you guess?”

She ignored that comment. “But you know what? I don’t think you ever told me what you like.” Her hands skimmed down his face, past his chest and stomach, to his cock. He was held mesmerized watching her elegant, ivory hands contrasting against his darker skin as they moved down his body.

Leaning against his shoulder, she draped her body over his and took hold of him at the base.

“It was all about making me happy, which is good. I don’t know if anyone ever thought about that before. But you know what would make me happy?” She nipped at his ear, then licked it.

“What?”

She stroked him again, allowing her thumb to pass over the head. “I want to drive you crazy.”

“You’re doing a good job of it right now, Cynthia.”

She pumped him a few times. Tension gathered along his nerve endings, his body coiling, reaching for the pinnacle. His balls were so tight, he was amazed he had held on this long.

“Not good enough, in my opinion.”

Once more she stroked him, teasing him with the release he needed, then she was gone and walking around the chair again. His body was pulsing, clamoring to reach fulfillment, and she left him. He opened his eyes and found her in front of him. Without a word, she dropped to her knees. She placed a hand on

each of his legs and leaned forward. Touching her tongue to the base of his cock, she licked up one side, swiped over the top, and down the other side.

“Sweet. You taste so sweet.” He didn’t miss the excitement in her voice. She made him sound like a tasty confection, one she would relish, lick by lick, until she had completely devoured it.

She wrapped one hand around the base, took him into her mouth. She couldn’t take his entire length, but she did her damnedest. Closing her eyes, she set to work, sucking, kissing, licking him, driving him out of his ever-loving mind. Again, the tension mounted. He curled his toes, trying to hold off. Just as he felt he might not be able to stop his orgasm, she pulled away.

He looked down and almost came at the sight of her tongue darting out over her swollen lips.

“Hmmm.” That was all she said before she leaned forward to lick and suck his balls. Jesus. He’d created a monster.

Five days. Close quarters. It’s enough to drive any woman crazy—or into submission…

Reaction Time

© 2008 Alannah Lynne

Nikki Kincaid carries her smart mouth and in-your-face attitude like other women carry mace. But the sharpest parts of her razor tongue are reserved for Adam Guthrie, a man who sparks her body’s reaction time quicker than a green light. That out-of-control response terrifies her, because control is her middle name.

When someone starts sending Nikki threatening letters, Adam jumps at her brother’s request to help protect her—whether she likes it or not. For the past year and a half he’s been watching her, analyzing her body language and cutting remarks, and has come to one definitive conclusion. She’s a sexual submissive in hiding.

Five days in close quarters is exactly what Adam’s been waiting for—and Nikki’s idea of hell.

Bringing her deepest desires to the surface will be the greatest challenge of his life. And, if he succeeds, his greatest reward.

Warning: This title contains some dominance and submission, some light bondage and some sexy scenes that’ll make you want to lose control.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Reaction Time: Nikki Kincaid shook her head,
almost
feeling sorry for the kid in the piece-of-shit Honda next to her, revving his engine and signaling he wanted to race. She knew she shouldn’t accept his challenge. Street racing was dangerous, plus the pesky little detail that it was illegal. But dammit, it was fun.

And she wanted to have a little fun for a change.

Did the kid honestly think his one-hundred-and-fifteen-horsepower Civic could compete with her Shelby GT500? The power of her Mustang alone would leave him sitting at the light wondering what happened. Considering she had one of the fastest reactions times in the NHRA Pro Stock Drag Racing Series, when the light turned green she’d be a quarter mile down the highway before he could blink.

She sighed. Three years. That’s how long it had been since she’d had any fun. That’s how long it had been since racing stopped being a choice and instead had become a job that carried an overwhelming responsibility. That’s how long it had been since racing ceased to be her true love and passion.

But this little race would be like before—fun.

She glanced around, checking to make sure there were no other vehicles in the way and no cops. Well, none other than her irritating passenger. Looking out the passenger window, she nodded once to the kid before returning her attention to the stop light. “That car sounds like a pissed off bumblebee,” she muttered beneath her breath, unable to believe the kid truly wanted to race.

As the word “race” hit her brain circuitry, her body instinctively took over. Her left hand clenched the steering wheel while the fingers on her right twitched on the Hurst shifter. Her left foot mashed the clutch to the floor and the toes on her right flexed with the anticipation of stomping on the gas pedal.

She flicked a casual sideways glance to her passenger, Adam “Tight Ass” Guthrie, off-duty detective and friend to her brother, Nate. Head bent over, eyes focused on the threatening letter she’d received that morning, he was oblivious to the kid next to him or the launched gauntlet.

Nikki smiled as she considered the added bonus to this race. Tight Ass was gonna shit a brick.

He would probably lecture her on yet another of her obligations—acting as a responsible role model.

He would probably make the three-hour trip to Richmond miserable. He would probably do that anyway, so she might as well go for it now and have her fun.

God, she could throttle Nate for insisting she have a weekend babysitter. The threats she’d received, the ones suggesting her health might fare better if she didn’t race anymore, seemed relatively harmless. But her ever-watchful big brother insisted she have protection. Tight Ass agreed with Nate’s cautious attitude, damn her bad luck, and had volunteered to take a couple days off to accompany her to the drag strip.

Unfortunately, he was the last person she wanted to spend five days with.

Maybe if she made his life hell he’d pack up and leave. Then she wouldn’t have to deal with him or the mix of unwelcome emotions his presence stirred in her.

The left-turn lane got the green arrow and she zeroed in on it. Watching. Waiting. As soon as that light turned red, she’d get the green light.

Yellow.

Adrenaline pumped through her veins like it always did at the starting line of a race.

Red.

She popped the clutch and mashed the gas at the exact instant her light flicked green. Tires squealed and her body slammed backwards into the seat from the forward thrust.

Second gear.

Third gear.

The kid was still sitting at the light and she burst out laughing, imagining his face. Eyes wide, mouth dropped open. Friends in the car laughing their asses off at the spanking he’d just gotten.

Fourth gear.

Fifth gear.

She cut her gaze to Tight Ass’s fingers embedded into the dashboard. He was wearing an expression she imagined was similar to the kid in the car. Pure shock.

She threw her head back and enjoyed a rare, roaring laugh as she slid the shifter into sixth and eased her foot off the gas. One hundred ten was probably pushing it.

“Stop!” her passenger demanded.

She bit into her bottom lip to squelch the laughter and continued to let the car coast to a slower speed.

“Stop the fucking car. Now.”

“All right. All right. Give me a sec to get to the exit.” With feigned concern and a lot of humor, she asked, “Do you need a men’s room, or is the side of the road okay?” His lip curled back in a snarl.

Holy shit
. Eyes wide, she sucked in a startled breath. Much to her surprise, and dismay, Tight Ass was even hotter all riled up.

She stopped on the side of the road and as she shut the car down, he shot out of his door, circled the car and yanked her door open. He grabbed her arm and jerked her from the car while she fought to shake him loose. “Let go of me,” she yelled.

Snatching off his sunglasses, he got nose to nose with her and snarled, “You ever pull a stunt like that again and I’ll kill you myself.”

Several things struck her at once—his impressively broad chest, his strong shoulders and his incredibly thick neck.
I wonder if he has hair on his chest or if it’s smooth and lickable
. She swallowed hard and swiped her tongue across her bottom lip. It was impossible to tell through the loose-fitting knit shirt, but she did know one thing. His lips, now pulled into a thin, tight line, were definitely kissable.

Dear God, what am I thinking?

This was why she avoided him. He confused her. His overbearing personality and often alarming intensity scared her. Despite that, with nothing more than a heated look, he made her body hum and purr like a well-tuned engine. And right now she wanted to strip and lick him like a Tootsie Roll Pop.

She pulled her gaze away from his mouth and looked into his eyes. She’d always considered her chocolate eyes dark, but his were black as lumps of coal and equally cold. Completely devoid of any emotion.

Her stomach dropped and her chest ached. Seeing him remain completely unaffected while she suffered through a heat wave, hurt and pissed her off. However, she’d never allow him to know it, so she hid her hurt the only way she knew how, with her smart mouth and in-your-face attitude.