Twisted By Love, Reincarnation Tales, Book 1 (6 page)

“So, we’ve introduced ourselves, you’re not
making me call my mom, and I’d still like to buy you that drink. Do
you consider me safe enough to accompany me to a bar close by?”

He knew exactly when she breathed him in, her
nostrils flaring imperceptibly, her lids drooping as if his scent
were a drug flooding her system. Heat flowed over her body,
reaching out to him. He could scent arousal on her like a lion
sniffing out his mate.

Another moment, another word, another shared
breath, and she’d be his.

“I...” She stopped, took a deep breath as if
he’d muddled her brain, then started again. “A drink. I’d like
that.”

What else would she like? A long, slow kiss,
but if he took it without asking, she might run scared again. So he
asked. “I feel this overwhelming need to kiss you first. Then a
drink.” A long drink, of her, her body.

Her eyes widened, darkened. She looked at his
mouth, and he knew she wanted the kiss as badly as he did.

“Just one,” he whispered. One wouldn’t be
enough for her any more than it would be for him.

She licked her lips, her gaze still on his
mouth. “Just one,” she agreed

Ahh. His. Finally.

The moment Bern touched his lips to hers,
Livie went up on her toes to wrap her arms around his neck. He
circled her waist and lifted her higher. This was no testing,
teasing, exploratory kiss. She opened her mouth to him, and he took
her. The delicate flower morphed into a Venus Fly Trap and devoured
him in equal parts. Sliding his hands down her back, he cupped her
bottom and hauled her against him, letting her feel how much he
wanted her. She groaned into his mouth with animal need. He’d lit
the match and started a conflagration in both of them. He wanted
her now, naked beneath him, his body buried inside her.

He let her glide sinuously down his body
until her feet once again touched the carpet, then took her face in
his hands and held her still for a kiss that staked his claim.

His body throbbed, his need almost to the
point of pain. He wanted to indulge in her taste, wallow in her
moans, watch as she reached her peak, then bury himself deep in her
heat and never let her go.

He slid his fingers from her face to the
tender flesh of her throat, then to the bead of her nipples begging
for his attention. He wanted nothing between them, not silk or
lace, just his tongue and lips on her sweet, delectable fruits.
Tunneling beneath her hair, he dragged down the zipper of her dress
until he could slide his hands inside the fabric and touch the
smooth, warm skin of her back. And still it wasn’t enough.

Her voice penetrated the fog in his
brain.

“Wait. Wait.” She shook his arms when he
started to push the fabric off her shoulders. “Stop.”

Her eyes were pinpricks of light. His groin
ached. His head swam as if she were a drug, an aphrodisiac, a fix
he needed right now. Stop? He couldn’t. Not now that he’d tasted
her.

He shook his head, suddenly aware of their
surroundings, the lobby of her office suite. Anyone could have
walked in. He’d been about to drag her to the floor and fill her
with everything he had to give, and he didn’t even know if the
suite was empty for the night.

Bern marshaled his wits. He’d moved too damn
fast again, gotten carried away. “Livie, I’m sorry. I needed to
touch you, and I lost it.” The intensity of her effect on him was
astonishing.

She put a finger over his lips. “Don’t
apologize. I got carried away, too.”

As she reached back to pull up her zipper,
her dress rose high on her thighs. His mind stumbled over all the
things he needed to say or do to carry her away again.

“This is how badly I wanted you in the
elevator the other day when I touched your waist. It was all I
could do not to throw everyone else out of there and do so much
more to you.”

Now he could see her breasts through the
fabric of her dress, not just feel them close to him. Her nipples
riveted his attention, the peaks growing even as he watched. Her
scent filled the air, the sweet perfume of feminine arousal.

“Is that what you felt?” He had to know.

Her throat moved as she swallowed. A pulse
throbbed in her neck.

“Tell me what you felt.” If he could get her
to talk about it, the sensations, the need, not just some mere
abstract concept of attraction.

“I...” She swallowed again, her gaze flitting
from his eyes to his mouth, as if remembering his lips on hers. “I
wanted more. I wanted to turn around and touch you. Everywhere.”
Her words were so low that if he hadn’t been watching her lips, he
might have missed them.

“Let me touch you now.” He willed her to look
at him, his eyes, not his chest. “I’ll show you how good it can
be.” Then he made a bold move, taking her hand and opening her palm
flat against his erection. He knew everything would be all right
when she caressed him, then slid down to cup him, squeezing.

“Let me show you,” he whispered.

“Yes.”

It was the only thing he needed, that simple
yes. “Is there anyone else here?”

She shook her head, slowly, still in the same
sensual fog he was.

Unwilling to let her get too far away, he
took her with him to the front door as he checked to make sure it
was locked. Someone would at least need a card key to get in.

Controlling only her hand, he pulled her
flush against him. “Your office. Where is it?”

She licked her lips. “My office?”

He let out the breath he’d been holding. “I
don’t think you can begin to imagine how badly I want you. In your
office.”

Still looking at him, she flapped her hand
over her shoulder. “Down there. At the end on the left.”

Relief swept through him. She was his. “I
didn’t bring protection, Livie.”

She smiled. He had the feeling she was glad
he hadn’t prepared as if sex with her were a sure thing.

“There are so many other ways we can have
each other, and I want to enjoy every one of them.” He cupped her
cheek. “Is that all right with you?”

She leaned into his hand and licked his palm,
a slow, sultry tasting that set his pulse pounding. Then she tipped
her head, met his gaze, and nodded.

“Then come with me.” He could barely keep
himself from running, his mind still a jumble of sensations.

They passed an open pen of cubicles, then she
unlocked her door. “You first,” she said softly.

Moonlight streamed through her office window,
and the lights of the Bay Bridge sparkled across the water.

“Nice view, isn’t it?” She sounded nervous
again.

He turned to find her leaning back against
the closed door, her hand on the knob as if she planned to make a
quick escape. Bern advanced on her slowly, giving her time to move
if she wanted to. She stayed right where she was, the city lights
glimmering in her gaze.

He cupped her cheek, held her with only that
touch. “I like this view better,” he murmured. “So much more
spectacular than anything out there.”

Chapter Six

Livie’s heart was beating so hard and fast,
his compliment almost drowned beneath the sound. His touch on her
face made her skin feverish. How did he do that? Make her want and
need so badly she found herself at his mercy in her dark office.
But she did want it. She wanted him. He was a silver-tongued devil,
but she hadn’t needed much convincing after he kissed her. No,
she’d been close to begging. The salty taste of his palm lingered
on her tongue. It was crazy, she didn’t know him, yet she had to
have more of him.

“Now, where were we?” he murmured.

Where
were
they? Oh yes, she’d been
ready to let him take her right there in the lobby. Only an instant
of sanity had stopped her.

“You’re thinking too much, Livie.”

He swung her around until her back was to the
desk. “I was unzipping your dress.” Keeping his gaze locked with
hers, he leaned down, skimmed his hands over the backs of her knees
and up her thighs. As her dress bunched above her hips, he hoisted
her to the wooden desktop.

She let him do it all without a protest. His
hands on her blew her restraint and her common sense to the four
winds. There was only lust at first sight and the overwhelming need
to touch and be touched. Not by anyone, but by him.

He took her lips, lifting her hair at the
same time, sifting it through his fingers. Finding the tab of her
zipper, he tugged, her dress falling away to bare her shoulders. He
sucked a patch of sensitive skin at the crook of her neck.

“You taste like strawberries.”

She laughed, a husky sound low in her throat.
“You’re imagining things.”

He licked along her collar bone. “No, it’s
definitely strawberries. Taste for yourself.”

His tongue slipped along the seam of her
lips, and she tasted the haunting sweetness of fruit. She opened to
him, invited him deep, shrugging her shoulders so the straps of her
bra slipped down her arms. Battling him was impossible. She’d have
to fight her own desires as well. She’d never win. A lace cup
caught on the upper swell of her breast.

Livie gave in to what she’d been imagining
for two weeks. She guided him to her breast with her hand at the
back of his head and said, “Taste me here.”

The dark broken only by moonlight granted
permission for anything. The wood desk was cold against her bottom,
but he heated her from the inside out. “Taste me, please.”

She pushed her pencil holder, stapler, and
tape dispenser aside. Pencils and pens skittered across the desk
and rolled onto the carpet. Tangling her fingers in his hair, she
eased down on the wood, her head coming to rest on the thick folder
of credit memos. He followed her down, nudging aside the bra’s cup,
tasting, tracing, then finally he sucked her nipple into his mouth.
A sharp jolt shot down between her legs, and she moaned. He pulled
her leg to his waist, stroked the back of her thigh, her calf, then
back again to glide close to her center.

“Cherries,” he murmured, blowing on her moist
nipple. “I like fruit.” He tipped his head to look at her, his eyes
gleaming. “What do you suppose you taste like down here?”

He stroked along the outside of her panties,
unerringly hitting the swollen nub beneath. Livie arched, bit back
the groan that rose to her lips and raised her other leg to his
hip.

“Peaches,” she whispered. “I’m pretty sure
it’s peaches.”

He hooked his fingers in the top of her
pantyhose and yanked her panties and hose to the edge of the desk.
“Peaches happen to be my favorite fruit.”

Oh God. She hadn’t felt a man between her
legs in so long. Hadn’t grown hot and wet with the thought of a
male tongue buried deep inside her. Her career and watching out for
Toni had taken all her focus. She hadn’t realized how much she’d
missed sex, and she wanted this man to remind her of all the
glorious sensations she’d put on hold. Now. All night long. For as
long as she could have him.

A draft of cool air brushed her wet nipple as
he backed off to roll her underwear down her legs, baring her to
his gaze.

“Pretty as a peach.” To punctuate, he drew a
long finger through her moist heat, circling. “Do you like that,
Livie?”

“Yes,” she managed on a gasp.

“How about this?” He leaned over her, his
lips almost touching her mouth, as he slid two fingers inside,
using his thumb to play her.

“Ah yes, that feels good, too.”

“Tell me what you want, Livie. Tell me
exactly what you want, and I’ll do it. As long as it makes you
scream when you come.”

“Put your mouth on me, Burn.”

He shifted, pulling over a chair, then
dragged her o the edge of the desk and slipped her legs over his
shoulders. “Hold on, baby because I love peaches.”

He devoured her, using his fingers, his lips,
his teeth, and his tongue. She tightened her legs around his head
when they shook, tugged and pulled at his hair, hanging on as if
he’d try to get away. She wriggled and writhed on the desktop,
squirming when the pleasure hit such intensity that tears burned
her eyes. He held her fast to his mouth. She threw her head back,
gripping the opposite edge of the desk, and the moonlight fell
straight into her eyes, so harsh and bright, she flew apart with
the brilliance of it.

“Scream, baby, come on, scream,” he urged,
far away and distorted, then he did something with his tongue,
pushing hard against one ultra sensitive spot. And Livie
screamed.

She came to herself gasping for breath, her
breasts bouncing, bathed in moonlight. Burn’s head was between her
legs, her thighs white against his dark, disheveled hair. Never
before in her life had she had sex in the office. This was a first.
She had feeling that he could provide a lot of firsts, and she
wanted to try them all.

Livie rolled to her elbows, then straightened
the locks of his hair. “I think I pulled it out by the roots.”

“I’d go bald to hear you scream like that
every time.” He grinned. “I’ll never eat my mother’s peach cobbler
without thinking of you.”

She swatted playfully at his nose. “Stop
that. You’re going to embarrass me.” She couldn’t believe what
she’d just done, but she wasn’t about to stop now. Holding out her
hands, she said, “Help me up.”

“I want to watch you like this a little bit
longer. In the moonlight your skin looks like cream, and your
breasts are mouth-watering.”

“Being an architect, I’d think you’d come up
with some design-related similes. You know, like my backside looks
like the broad side of a building or something.”

“Fishing for compliments?” He didn’t wait for
her answer. Which would have been yes. “Your backside looks and
feels like the curve of a ripe melon.”

“You’ve got a food fetish.”

He grinned again. She loved that boyish,
lighthearted grin.