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He eyed the action with approval. “Good, I like when you’re safe.”
“Is that why you sent your guard dog back?” I countered and led the way across the living area to the kitchen.
What I’d been planning to do was have a glass of wine, and maybe watch a movie while I waited on Pretty Boy. But since he wasn’t coming back tonight, I probably would have just gone to bed. The past week had been exhausting.
“You are playing with fire,” he said. “I don’t want you to get burned.”
It took another moment to get Ezra to let go of my hand so I could make the coffee. Instead of retreating, he was practically fused to my back, his hands on my hips and his lips on my neck.
“This isn’t terribly helpful for making coffee.”
“I like it.” He rubbed his hands in slow circles against the soft fabric of my silk pajamas. I’d changed when I got home because I hadn’t planned to go out again. “I like this too. I like you safe and warm…you know where else is safe and warm?”
“I’m sure you’re going to tell me.” It took tremendous effort to focus on the coffee pull when he was like this. The gentle rub of his cheek to my hair was all sweet and cuddly.
He chuckled and his fingers skimmed along the edge of my top, teasing against the skin of my abdomen. My eyes were drifting closed and I had to force them open even as I sighed.
“The island is safe and warm,” he whispered. “It’s far away from all this bullshit. A few hours in the air, then we’re there. You liked the island, didn’t you?” The plaintive note at the end begged me to agree.
The thing was… “Yes,” I admitted. “I did. I wasn’t especially fond of you dragging me there in the first place.” Or keeping me there.
“But we worked that out.” There was a hint of laughter as he flattened his hand against my abdomen. The press of his palm spread scorching heat through my system. “Didn’t we?”
I groaned. “Ezra—what are you doing?” I couldn’t focus on coffee while he was doing this, especially as he stroked his hand upward toward my breasts.
“Seducing you,” he whispered against my ear as he massaged a nipple through my shirt then bit down gently on the lobe. The grind of his hips to my ass left absolutely nothing to the imagination. The stiffness of his erection an erotic tease. “I need you.” The last three words shredded me. Everything about this was a mistake.
Eyes closed, I fought to count to ten in English. Then in French. Then German. When I got to Italian, I gave up.
“Please, Lainey.” Want and need twined in those words and I twisted, the coffee all but forgotten. His hands skimmed over my flesh as I faced him. The contact of his palm to my breast earlier seemed to still warm me.
“Ezra—” I put a hand to his cheek. “How drunk are you?”
“Not that drunk,” he said, his smile growing. “I know exactly what I’m asking you for.” Then his mouth was on mine and my objections began to collapse on one another. When Ezra picked me up, I wrapped my arms around his neck.
This was a mistake.
I knew it.
On some level, he had to know it. Wasn’t that what we were? A mistake?
Yet, I leaned into the kiss, devouring every drop of affection he rained down on me. He carried me out of the kitchen and into the living room. Not once did his lips leave mine.
Not when I pushed his jacket off or when I undid the buttons on his shirt. Lean, but still solidly muscled, he had a runner’s body. Although there was also so much strength corded in his arms and his chest. All hidden from the world.
Like he hid himself. All under the guise of business, society, and brutal humor.
He bit my lip and then dragged his head back as he hooked his fingers under my top and dragged the silk upward. I had to let go of him to raise my arms and then he leaned back to stare at my breasts.
“Hello my beauties,” he whispered. “I’ve missed you.”
My pussy clenched at the raw desire making each word ragged. He kissed a path along my shoulder down to my breast and I pushed at his chest.
“What?” He lifted his head at the rejection, the dark pupils so swollen they swallowed all the color in his eyes.
“Clothes,” I told him and then pushed at his shirt and jacket. He blinked then glanced at himself like he’d half-forgotten he was still dressed. His shoes came off even as he stripped the jacket and the shirt.
His gaze lifted to mine as he went for his belt and I had to lick my lips. There was an intensity to Ezra when he got like this. It threatened to consume me like a fire rippling toward the explosive. When we made contact—it would burn everything up.
