Page 116 of Turn Over


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I felt the cotton flutter over my skin as the wind danced off the ocean.

I tasted his lips and his tongue, deepening the kiss with each inhale. The tequila was sweet on his breath. His teeth grazed over my bottom lip and I gasped. His hands had worked up my back and landed on the clasp of my bra.

The air around us was salty and heavy from the sea, but it hummed from the warmth building under our skin. A curious kiss had turned into an electric current that was firing so rapidly I wasn’t thinking anymore. All I knew to do was to give my body over to Mason Lachlan as he began to unbutton the front of my blouse. His head dipped to kiss below my throat, and he carefully moved the shirt off one shoulder and then the other. His movements were deliberate—intentional in how he wanted to touch me.

My heart beat rapidly against my chest. I stood while he slid the bra off my arms and tossed it on the chair.

The blue eyes, now dark on the balcony, drank in my skin. The look he gave me sent shivers along my arms and between my legs. God, he had to know what he was doing.

He was silent as he bent to kiss my neck and collarbone. My head reeled back at the sensation. His tongue was hot and lethal. I gasped when it flicked over my breast. He looked up at me, smiling wickedly. His mouth covered my nipple and I groaned as he sucked and grazed his teeth against the tender skin. He held me against the wall, exploring my flesh, kissing me, until my knees were trembling with want and weakness.

The sound of the waves echoed off the walls, and I immediately braced myself when I felt his hands wrap around me and lift me from the floor. He settled me on one of the chaise lounges. I hadn’t noticed them when we first stepped on the balcony, but there were two side by side. He worked the button on my skirt and began to shimmy it over my hips. It was enough to jar me back to reality.

“Wait,” I breathed.

He tossed the skirt on a table. “What is it?” He kissed behind my ear as he lowered his body against mine. He was warm.

“The interview. You promised me an interview tonight.” I tried to steady my voice. Nothing in me was calm. Every part was raging to touch him.

His fingers inched over my hips and were roaming the inside of my thigh. I tried to read his expression in the dark.

He sat forward and I helped him with the buttons on his shirt. My body was reacting one way, while my mind was trying to latch onto the idea that I still had work to do. I traced the lines of his chest, taking in the way his body was sculpted and athletic. There were ridges under his ribs, and his mus

cles flexed along his torso. God, he was sexy.

“Interview?” His mouth was on mine again and I settled against the chaise.

I nodded, although not convincingly. There was a heat burning between my legs which was taking over all rational thought. Logic was drowning and sinking helplessly against his skilled hands. I started to rock lightly as his fingers moved closer.

“Yes.” I tried to still my hips. “I have a deadline.”

“Go ahead.” He hooked the edge of my panties on his thumb and was working them down my thighs. His eyes unyielding. “Ask me a question,” he dared.

“I can’t interview you like this.” I tried to sit forward, but realized I made it that much easier for him to finish his task. I was completely naked.

“Why not?” His hand ran along my ankle, crossing over my knee until he had pressed my thigh to the side.

I groaned as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of my leg, sending pulses to my core.

“Afraid you can’t concentrate?” He bent to blow air across my breast. It was delicious torture the way he kissed me before moving on to the next part of my body. It made the tightening feeling in my stomach lurch with pleasure. Too much pleasure.

I reached for the buckle on his pants. To hell with concentration. I needed this man. He was driving me wild, teasing and toying with me.

“I don’t want to concentrate,” I whispered. I slid the leather belt from the loops, and freed him from his slacks. I watched in awe as he shed his boxer briefs on the deck floor.

This was a man who could have been sculpted from a block of stone. I stared in disbelief at the symmetry of his body. My palms pressed against the flesh over his heart. He was warm and solid.

“Good.” He settled between my legs, kissing me tenderly. “Because this is all I can think about.”

His tongue parted my lips and I greedily sucked and kissed him, desperate to stop the burning that was raging through my body. It had built to a peak that was so consuming I thought the pain would start to rip me apart if he didn’t fill me. I pressed my nails deep into his back, urging him to take me.

He hovered over me, his eyes piercing even in the dark. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

I wrapped one leg against his waist, pushing him toward me. I arched forward ready to take him, needing to feel him, wanting him to rock my body into total oblivion.

He held strong against my efforts. I searched his eyes. “Is something wrong?” I asked completely breathy.

He rested on his palms. His movements slowed.

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