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So why did those internal reminders fail to dispel the weird sense of fear trying to take hold? She was strong enough to stand against it, though.
And she would.
He took another step forward, and another…and then he was so close she could feel his body heat in the scant bit of air between them. His scent was different up close. Not merely the expensive aftershave he wore, because she’d been buying it for him since she was ten, but another spicy fragrance that could only be him. It was warm, like his body…how could a smell be warm?
But it was. And it was good—oh, so good. She wanted to lean forward and nuzzle her nose in his neck and just revel in it.
She’d smelled him before, but there was a quality to his personal scent that was different now…a musk that sent a sharp ache deep into her womb. Her legs felt weak and she swayed a little, her face doing that nuzzle thing of its own accord.
He took in a sharp breath even as she inhaled his scent.
She throbbed in that hidden place between her legs. She’d never felt like this, even when she’d lain in her bed at night and thought about him. It was so different. Scary, but totally delicious too.
Which was exactly how the odd fear felt—kind of yummy. And that was really odd. Fear wasn’t yummy, or fun. At least it never had been before. But this sensation wasn’t one she wanted to end immediately. How weird was that?
Her disjointed ruminations ceased as she became acutely aware of how he filled her senses. His body heat surrounded her. Everything beyond him fuzzed in her vision, as if her eyes wanted to focus wholly on him. And his scent reached out to her, drawing her closer with an undeniable pull.
He didn’t say anything as she rubbed her nose very lightly in the hollow of his neck. This close, she could smell the difference in where she nuzzled and his face, where his aftershave left a stronger impression. She’d always loved that cologne—that was why she bought it for him—but right now she wanted his essence. She needed to imprint him on her sensory memorie
s.
He didn’t move. Not to get away, not to get closer. He remained utterly still.
She met his silence with one of her own, not wanting this magical moment to end. If she never had anything else from him, no one could ever take away this moment. The first—and maybe the only—sensual encounter between two friends closer than most family.
Taking a deep breath, she inhaled more of him, and shuddered as her breasts came into contact with his chest. He made a sound like a growl, but still no words.
Her nipples ached behind the thin layers of her bra and her top. She pressed more firmly into him, trying to relieve that ache. It didn’t work. She only wanted more. She needed…something from him…but she didn’t know what. She’d read about this kind of thing, talked it over with her friends. She’d even tried experimenting. But she didn’t like kissing other men when all she could think about was the one she loved. Even if she couldn’t have him, her body had never allowed her to have anyone else either. No matter how hard she’d tried.
The fact that she was de facto engaged to his brother had prevented her from dating more than a few times anyway. She always felt so guilty, though she shouldn’t have.
It wasn’t as if Dimitri wanted her, and she was positive he wasn’t celibate. She’d seen pictures in the paper of him with a French model, though she’d never mentioned them to anyone else. He was good at keeping his name out of the media, so she saw no reason to stir trouble about the couple of times he hadn’t been able to.
She doubted his family even knew.
But what was she doing thinking about Dimitri when his brother—the man she loved—was standing right here? She would groan at herself if she could get enough air into her lungs. You’d think with the way she kept taking in his scent she’d have plenty of air, but she felt light-headed anyway.
And that was her only excuse for what she did next. Lack of oxygen to the brain.
CHAPTER TWO
SHE curled her hands around Spiros’s lean hips and then she flicked her tongue out to taste the skin tantalizing her senses so thoroughly.
Salty.
Sweet.
Warm.
Addictive.
She tasted him again, this time letting her tongue linger just a bit longer.
Suddenly one of his hands was buried in her hair, pressing her face into his neck. “Bite me.”
The guttural voice vibrated through her and made disobedience or even a question out of the realm of possibilities. She delicately nipped at his skin, sucking a little, taking more of the wonderful flavor into her mouth.
He growled, a sound at the same time animalistic and intensely masculine.
