The "can't-keep-my-hands-off-you" kiss

Some couples are just meant to be. Love doesn't care about convenience, and neither does attraction. Here's one of those "fateful" moments from my erotic romance Fantasy Mountain, from the perspective of smokin' hot British hero, Brett:

His hands moved to Vic’s face, thumbs tracing dark circles under her eyes. “If you weren’t out drinking and cavorting with rakes all night, you’d not be so tired, miss,” he teased softly.

She swallowed hard before she answered. “I was in by ten.”

He thought she might be hiding something when she looked at the floor, but then she said, “I just didn’t…rest well.”

Of course. The damn dreams. She never rested when she went to California, and here he’d been begrudging her the best diversion she had from those nightmares.

“Ah, Vic. I’m sorry.” Her eyes teared up, right before she narrowed them on him. She’d be pissed now because he felt sorry for her. Already her cheeks were turning that angry pink he so enjoyed. The green eyes squinted smaller, and her jaws tightened under the heels of his hands. Glorious angry, she was. He couldn’t help smiling again, which would only serve to further infuriate her.

She took in a great breath. He knew she intended to spew it back out on him in a flurry of irate words, but he stole it from her first.

He kissed her, as he seemed to do more often than he cared to acknowledge, and stalled the angry reply. Even as his lips brushed against her soft ones, he thought of her kissing another, and his pulse beat faster with jealousy. His intended sweet gesture to show her he’d sympathize with her whether she liked it or not became a fierce need to make her want him. Instead of a tender, closed-mouth kiss, he forced her lips apart and probed with his tongue. He longed to taste and feel her desire, her need for him and him alone. Love.

He got the desire, at least. She slipped her smooth arms round his neck and matched him move for move. In his mind, he’d known she would. It was constantly there with them, this physical need. Though she strove to suppress it in the name of business ethics, he could sense it always, carefully hidden. And damn if it didn’t drive him mad to know she wanted him but didn’t love him. Besides, she had more self control than he did. As usual, she found her senses first and pulled away from him.

“Andrea,” was her breathless one-word way of halting him. It worked famously.

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