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“What’s starting to pile up?”
A tiny smile touched the corners of her mouth. “Things you do that accomplish nothing. Refusing to eat,” she reminded him. “Pacing. And now this.”
He couldn’t help it—he grinned like a repentant little boy. “I’ll keep that in mind. Or maybe I should just keep you around to remind me.” Then his grin faded as all at once it came over him that he wanted to keep her around...and not as his conscience. It was crazy, but he wanted to keep her around...because she’d cried for him.
She moved ever so slightly closer to him, and he could feel the warmth that emanated from her. Could smell the faintest trace of ginger, just as he’d smelled it on her skin last night as he’d held her in his sleep. And just like that, he wanted her. Desperately. His arm reached around of its own accord and pulled her flush with his body, and she didn’t resist. Not only did she not resist, she raised her face to his as if inviting his kiss, an invitation he couldn’t refuse.
He’d known she was soft, had known it since last night. And he’d known her skin was satiny smooth, a tactile delight. But he hadn’t known her lips could bring him to full arousal with just a touch, just a taste. And he hadn’t know just how sweetly the satisfaction of having her surrender to him this way would sing through his veins.
But satisfaction soon gave way to something darker. The claws of need sank their talons into him, and he pulled her even closer, both arms wrapped around her now as she took him places he hadn’t realized he wanted to go. Places he hadn’t been in forever.
She made a sound deep in her throat, and his mouth left hers to find the source of that sound...to press his lips there as her head fell back, exposing the tantalizing column of her neck. He took full advantage, nibbling his way down to the hollow of her throat, feeling her pulse beating wildly. He was already hard and aching, but that wild pulse kicked his desire up a notch, knowing it beat so wildly for him. Knowing she wanted him as much as he wanted her.
His hands roamed her body restlessly, pulling her red silk shirt from the waistband of her slacks and sliding beneath it to skin that was even silkier to the touch. For a few brief seconds he told himself he should stop, but her hands were taking liberties, too. She cupped him, stroked his arousal through the denim that refused to stretch—damned denim, Dirk thought with a dart of humor as his erection pressed painfully against the zipper. Then he gasped his relief into her mouth as Mei-li popped open his jeans and slid the zipper down, freeing him.
A small hand slid inside his briefs, and—
The pealing of the doorbell brought everything to a crashing halt. Dirk cursed fluently, and if he could have had his way, he would have ignored whoever was at the door and continued what he was doing. But Mei-li was already pulling away from him, and her face told him she was shocked at herself, at how close they’d come to—
“Zip up,” she whispered, frantically trying to straighten her clothing into some semblance of order, and that was the first moment Dirk realized he’d disarranged her clothes in his desperate haste to claim her body as his own.
When Dirk didn’t respond quickly enough, Mei-li reached for the zipper herself. He caught her hands before she could emasculate him, then eased the zipper up. It was a tight fit, but he managed it...barely.
The doorbell sounded again, several rings this time, and Mei-li looked down at the strain on Dirk’s zipper. “I’ll answer the door,” she told him. “You’d better—”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “I’ll be in the bedroom, until...” She started to move away, but he pulled her back to him for a moment. “Don’t open the door unless you know who it is,” he told her roughly. He kissed her once more, taking his time about it. Then he said with dead seriousness, “This wasn’t a mistake, Mei-li. And it’s not over.”
* * *
Dirk walked out of his bedroom and through the study a few minutes later. He’d taken a quick, ice-cold shower to force his arousal into submission, but it hadn’t helped all that much. His mind had slid into thoughts of Mei-li as he dried off and tugged his clothes back on—her warmth, her unexpected sweetness, those little sounds she made when he kissed her—and by the time he was dressed he was already semiaroused again. Nothing I can do about it, he’d told himself with a touch of humor as he tucked and zipped.
Rafe was standing in the middle of the living room talking earnestly with Mei-li when Dirk entered the room. Rafe’s body language was a dead giveaway the bodyguard was excited by something, and suddenly Dirk had no trouble pushing Mei-li and their encounter in the kitchen to the back of his mind.
