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“Yes,” he said, very softly. “That’s exactly it.”
He studied her face as if looking for the answers, but she didn’t know what he saw. The muscles around her mouth and jaw felt stiff. But after a moment he smiled, and this time it did reach his eyes. A bit. And the ice thawed a little bit more.
“Let’s go decorate the doors down in the Dungeon,” he said, with a lightness neither of them felt.
“It’ll be the fanciest jail and doctor’s office in D.C.,” she replied with cheerfulness that was only slightly forced.
Adam
They did the Interrogation Room last, the easy camaraderie between them finally coming back after they’d both made a concerted effort to move away from depressing topics of conversation. Returning to their conversation about books had broken the tension completely when she told him about her first fantasy book by Tamora Pierce and he’d immediately known she was talking about the Lioness Quartet.
Angel had howled with laughter. “Those were written for girls!”
“Sexist,” he retorted, although his cheeks turned a bit red. “They were good books.”
“I know... I... the main character’s a girl!”
“And you read the Hardy Boys.”
“I know... I know...” she said between fits of giggles. “I have trouble picturing you...” And then she dissolved into laughter again.
Adam scowled at her, but she could tell it wasn’t for real. There was none of the intensity she’d seen when he was angry with her.
“You’re going the right way to get that sexism beaten out of you,” he threatened, stepping closer to loom over her. “I’ve got all the equipment I need right here in this room.”
And the atmosphere changed.
He hadn’t meant it to. Not really. But she’d looked so beautiful flushed with laughter, so carefree, so different from the way she had upstairs when she hadn’t shown him pity or judgment but instead had showed him that she understood. He’d found himself wanting to touch her, to kiss her.
They weren’t in a scene now. He could kiss her without breaking the restrictions he’d put on himself.
Watching the laughter fade from her eyes to be replaced with a different kind of warmth, with the sparkle of anticipation and hope, Adam knew he was going to do it. Hell, maybe he’d known since the moment he’d seen her walk in the door.
Her lips parted slightly as he leaned down, slowly enough that she could move away if she wanted to. But she didn’t.
Adam brushed his lips over hers gently, testing. A whimper sounded low in her throat at the slight touch and then he found himself cupping her chin in one hand, the other arm snaking around her back as the fabric she’d been holding dropped to the floor around their feet. Granted, they hadn’t had much left after doing every doorway in the club, but up until now they’d been more careful with it. He hadn’t wanted her to have to wash fabric she hadn’t even used for decorations.
Now he simply couldn’t care.
All he cared about was how she was responding to him, her mouth obediently opening beneath his, her hands clutching at his shirt as she pressed against him. She tasted sweet and minty and like a woman. Her kiss wasn’t passive, like some submissives could be, but it wasn’t aggressive either. She met every stroke of his tongue with one of her own, with an enthusiasm that had his already hard cock feeling like granite.
Deepening the kiss, he tightened his arm around her, sliding the hand on her chin to the back of her head so he could hold her securely in place. Somehow, he had to keep control over the situation.
Angel
No one had ever kissed her like this.
It wasn’t the passion or the skill or even the taste of him... no one had ever kissed her so demandingly. Every muscle in his body was rock hard against hers, his erection digging into her stomach, and yet it was as if his entire focus was on her mouth. Taking her breath away.
Literally. She was getting a bit dizzy, but who cared? Air was overrated anyway.
She loved the way his hands felt on her—controlling, authoritative. There was no guesswork about whether or not he was enjoying the kiss or what he wanted her to do. Adam took what he wanted and it was all she could do to keep up with him. It was the hottest kiss of her life.
When he finally pulled his lips away, she realized exactly how starved for air she was, sucking it in as her chest heaved and she stared up at him. Blue eyes studied her. His gaze was hot but didn’t look nearly as wild as she felt. That stung a bit. She wanted to ignite the same kind of uncontrollable heat and need in him that he did in her.
“We should go back upstairs,” he said softly. “Before anyone comes looking for us.”
“No.” She said it automatically, without thinking, her hands bunching into the fabric of his shirt as if she could hold him there by sheer force. As if he didn’t outweigh her in sheer muscle mass.
