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The corners of his lips lift into a smile. “If you want more, I won’t object.”
His deep voice curls around my libido and gives it a gentle squeeze, and my skin surges with heat. I don’t even want to focus on the second part of that sentence because I can’t remember the last time I was in the presence of a man I found so physically attractive.
My heart pounds so hard that its vibrations reach that sensitive spot between my legs. I’m overthinking something that should be simple. It’s just a kiss.
An ache forms deep in my core. If it’s just a kiss, then why does it feel like the start of a scorching hot adventure?
Roman’s gaze flickers down to my lips, and I swear I can see his eyes smolder with desire.
I shake off that thought. This is ridiculous. It’s been an eternity since I had a good orgasm and I’m overheating. Projecting my sexual frustration. Getting myself hot and bothered over one simple kiss.
I slide my hands up the lapels of Roman’s jacket, feeling the hard contours of his pecs. His heartbeat echoes beneath my palms like a bass drum, infusing my own with a rhythmic thump.
I’m surrounded by the masculine scents of leather, cedarwood, and musk. I inhale deeply, my pulse quickening, and get swept up in a rush of anticipation. This promises to be the most exciting thing I’ve done since moving to New Alderney.
As I rock forward on the tips of my toes to reach Roman’s lips, his large hands encase my wrists, and he pulls away.
My chest deflates. What did I do wrong?
“Not here,” he says, his voice husky and low.
“Where then?” I ask, already sounding breathy.
“We need to use the kiss to smuggle you out.”
My heart lifts. “Oh.”
“Let’s go.” He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me to his side.
Roman is so tall I have to lean against his chest and tilt my head to meet his gaze. An unusual experience for me, considering I’m five-ten and look most men in the eye. His stare is dark, intense, and heavy enough to make my knees buckle.
The strong arm around my back is the only thing keeping me upright when he opens the fire door and lets in a gust of cool air. Outside is a dim alleyway on the side of the club, illuminated by the patrol car’s brake lights.
My heart rate cranks up several notches and teeters on the edge of paranoia. What if Roman thinks I’m not worth the trouble of saving and delivers me to the police? If I’d just been released from prison, the last thing I’d want was to help a female fugitive escape the law.
The police car’s passenger side door opens, and an officer steps out. My fight-or-flight kicks in and I prepare myself to bolt, but Roman sweeps his forearm beneath my knees and cradles me to his chest.
My eyes widen. “What are you?—”
His lips capture mine, silencing my protests and burning my suspicions into ash. This is his plan to sneak me past the police. Unless Jim had the foresight to send a message to all nearby units that a fugitive is on the run, the officer approaching us won’t think I’m the woman connected to the incident at Gallery Lafayette. Instead, he’ll dismiss me as Roman’s celebratory hook-up.
I wrap my arms around his neck and let him take control. His full lips devour mine with a hunger that makes my head spin. When his tongue pushes its way into my mouth, I moan for more. My fingers find his hair, and I tug at the strands, desperate to deepen our connection.
Somewhere on the border of my consciousness, footsteps retreat down the alleyway, then a car door opens and closes.
My chest inflates with triumph.
He did it. Roman saved me from the police, but now he needs to keep moving. I thread my fingers through his hair and moan, encouraging him to continue. This kiss can’t stop until I’m halfway down the street, away from Jim and his colleagues.
Roman carries me in the opposite direction, toward another source of light, where I hear movement. I crack open an eye and spot a chauffeur holding open the door of what looks like a limousine.
Right. My alcohol-ridden brain tries to make sense of what’s happening. It’s because he’s driving me to safety.
He doesn’t seem like a sex trafficker.
I melt into the kiss, my grip around his neck tightening as he lays me on a leather seat. The door closes behind us with a soft thud as he settles over me, his hand tracing circles over my thigh. Now that his full attention is on mine, the air between us crackles.
“You’re doing so well, sweetheart,” he murmurs into the kiss. “Keep playing your part.”
