Hidden Moon - NAUGHTY Excerpt
Copyright © Decadent Publishing, 2016
“I live alone because I like it,” he said. “It also gives me some peace and dignity. Most of all, I’m less likely to accidentally kill somebody.”
“How sad for you,” she said in a small voice.
He stood abruptly, letting her hand fall. “I’ll grab the other crates of vegetables. Are they in the back of your truck?”
A ball of fire bloomed in her abdomen. If she couldn’t talk him into staying, there was only one other way, and it happened to be something she really wanted. She stood, too, and closed the refrigerator door.
“The vegetables can wait.” She brushed the orange across her breasts, raising the nipples through the fabric of her pink shirt. “I can’t.”
“Jesus, Shelley. What are you trying to do?” His gaze rested on her chest, heavy as a hand, and his aroused scent charged the air.
“Leave if you have to.” She dropped her hand, feeling silly for acting like a seductress. “I just ask one thing before you go. Make love with me.”
“That would be a very bad idea.” But his voice had a big crack in it.
“Just once,” she amended. “I’ll never be with another man.”
“You should marry Curtis. You know him a lot better than you do me.”
“You’ve got that right. I don’t know you at all.” She turned her back on him. “Get the damn crates.”
As soon as he left, she tore a hunk of skin off the orange she held and took a messy bite of it. Tears spattered her cheeks, but the scents of citrus and salt couldn’t cleanse away Alan’s. Need, male and raw, hung in the air, tormenting her. If she wasn’t his cup of tea, she could accept that, but they were mates. Why did he have to be so logical?
When he came back, he dropped the crates on the counter. His muscular arms glistened with sweat from carrying two at a time.
“Don’t cry, Shelley.” He hugged her close to his chest and looked down at her orange, which he’d crushed in the process. “Shit. I can’t do anything right.” After grabbing a nearby dish towel, he dabbed the fruity juice that had spilled on her shirt.
She batted his hand away. “I’ll clean it later. I need to go. I’m not wanted here.”
“Oh, I want you.” The deep growl of his voice vibrated the air around them.
Her breath caught when he gripped her shoulders—hard—and bent to lick a drop of orange juice from her shirt. His breath and tongue, hot and damp, penetrated the thin fabric. Fire rippled through the nipple below.
She clutched the bandana on his head with sticky fingers. “Oh, Alan…. Don’t stop.”
By the look in his eyes, he couldn’t if he wanted to. She’d seen that fiery expression on prom night, before he tried to knock Curtis’s head off. It felt as if a beast lived inside him. Knowing she’d unleashed it made her clitoris throb.
His strong hands circled behind her, squeezed her butt, and lifted her to the counter behind her.
“Yes.” She gasped when he yanked up her shirt and tugged down her bra cups. His mouth closed around her nipple. Then his teeth. The sudden pain arched her back. She barely caught herself from falling backward.
He ripped a section out of the orange and squeezed it, raining the sweet juice across over her belly. The warm nectar trickled over her sensitized flesh, sending her muscles into spasms.
“That’s it, honey. Twitch for me because I’m going to make you come so hard.”