Kelly Hunter

The Complete Red-Hot And Historical Collection


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the time he got around to kissing her lips she had her eyes closed and her hands palms to the wall for fear of burying them in his hair and directing him where she wanted him to go. And then he coaxed her shirt up over her head, and when her arms fell they fell to his shoulders.

      He didn’t need any direction when it came to getting his shirt off, or her trousers either. No direction at all as he picked her up as if she weighed next to nothing, his hands on her buttocks, his strong fingers curling under and around to tease at the edges of her panties.

      She was so wet for him. The minute he touched her he would know, if he didn’t already, that all he had to do was put his hands on her and she was halfway to gone.

      And then his fingers skated across the slick she was making for him, and he growled and slammed her back into the wall, coaxing her legs to open around him—and, oh, that worked for her. She spread her legs wider, rocking up into that teasing hardness, letting him know in no uncertain terms that she would like more of that.

      ‘Please …’ she whispered into his mouth as she wound her arms around his neck and held on.

      Denim rasped against her as she ground up onto him—hard.

      ‘Please. I won’t break. Anything you want.’

      She wanted to feel his thickness inside her so that she didn’t have to clench around nothing. She wanted the burn that came of trying to swallow him whole.

      And then he took her to the counter, hooked his fingers through her panties and pulled them off. He unzipped himself next and pushed his boxers down. He took himself in hand, his eyes almost black as he breached her—just a little. Nothing more than a promise that soon … soon he would fill her up.

      He opened her mouth with his thumb next. She sucked it in and got it good and wet before pulling back to nip at the knuckle. There. All done. Good job.

      He was still toying with her, not giving her nearly enough of his length, and he toyed with her some more as he put his thumb to her centre and rubbed, finding exactly the right spot.

      She bit her lip to stop herself from keening, but some sound escaped and his gaze, which had been fixed elsewhere, met hers.

      ‘There? Is that good?’

      He knew it was.

      His next kiss was filthy—all grazing teeth and demanding tongue.

      She was riding the ragged edge of desperation, and he knew she wanted more, but he made her wait even as he built her slowly, inexorably towards climax.

      She slapped one hand behind her on the counter for leverage, the better to lift her hips up and forward. Greedy … so greedy … for more pressure from his thumb and an inch or seven more. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have them to give.

      He slid into her a little more—huge, hard and so welcome she could hardly stand it. Almost there … almost.

      ‘What do you want?’

      His rumbled words licked at her as she bucked forward and she gained another inch of him, and then cried out her frustration when he wouldn’t let her have any more.

      But she wasn’t going to direct him this time. She didn’t always have to call the shots. Sometimes she wanted more than anything to ditch that responsibility and have someone call them for her.

      ‘Anything,’ she whispered. ‘Whatever you want.’

      ‘Good.’ He sheathed himself all the way inside her with one mercifully hard thrust. ‘Come.’

       CHAPTER ELEVEN

      ROWAN WOKE TO a warm and touch-happy man in her bed and didn’t mind his presence at all. Not the circle of his arms or his sleepy good morning. Not the way he kept one hand on her stomach even as he rolled over to check his phone.

      ‘What time do you have to be at work?’ he mumbled.

      She muttered something about six o’clock and pulled his phone towards her so that she could see the time more clearly. She groaned—six o’clock being forty minutes away and all.

      ‘I’ve got to get up. What time are you and the gang heading back today? Because you’re welcome to stay here this morning. Just lock up on your way out.’

      ‘You know what I remember best about my mother?’ he said as he pulled her to him and placed a kiss on her temple. ‘Whenever my father had to leave for work, be it for a day or for a fortnight, she always got up and saw him off, and he always left smiling. Even back then I liked her priorities.’

      Rowan remembered back to those days in far-flung countries when her parents hadn’t even bothered to tell her where they were going. She’d simply wake to an amah or the housekeeper telling her they were gone. Could be why Rowan liked her job so much nowadays. Knowing where people were and what they were doing just flat-out worked for her on a psychological level. That kind of information was important to her. It made her feel secure.

      ‘Was she a stay-at-home mum, your mum?’

      ‘Depends on your definition. Companies used to come to her with their figures for analysis. She was a mathematician—an incredibly bright one. I think that’s where we all got our smarts from.’

      ‘She sounds like a remarkable woman.’

      ‘Life is full of them.’ He turned his head, his eyes as penetrating as any laser. ‘You’re one.’

      ‘Trust me—I am not that smart.’

      ‘You’re a driven, focused, impressively networked problem-solver. And you know I’m more than halfway gone on you. And now we need to get out of this bed before I derail all your good intentions when it comes to you being on time for work.’

      Rowan slid out of bed with a light in her heart. She shared her toiletries and her shower with him and smirked her satisfaction when he emerged, hair still spiky and wet, smelling faintly of ginger and roses. She ground beans and made coffee with the sinfully expensive machine that had been a fortieth birthday present to herself, and watched his eyes glaze over when he lifted the steaming black brew to his lips.

      This man practically turned into a biddable little lamb in exchange for a morning cup of coffee.

      Something to remember.

      By the time he was on his second cup she was almost ready to walk out through the door. ‘You’ll lock up behind you?’

      He nodded and set the cup down. ‘So … Me coming here to see you during the week. You coming up to the beach house when you can. Is that going to work for you? Because if it does … if you want to try to build some kind of ongoing relationship with me … I’m all for it.’

      ‘An exclusive relationship?’

      ‘I don’t share.’ His eyes flashed hot with temper. ‘We do this and you’re mine and no one else’s. And I’m yours.’

      ‘Yes.’

      She wanted to crawl into his lap and stay there for a week. Gorge herself stupid on him and let him feast on her. She wanted this man and all that he was offering. There would be spats with him, because he wasn’t a malleable soul and neither was she. There was a good chance that she would want more than he could give.

      But she contented herself with kissing him slow and sweet and savouring this moment of pure happiness. ‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘Yes, I think that would work.’

       CHAPTER TWELVE

      ON WEDNESDAY THE following week Jared got a phone call from Damon. He and Damon didn’t really do social calls, so his brother’s quiet ‘Hey,