Asking for Trouble by Jannine Gallant Page B

dangerous—and hot. Too sexy for her peace of mind. Her toes curled against the floor.
    “He’ll probably sleep for an hour or two.” She glanced toward the kitchen, searching for a distraction then headed in that direction. “Are you hungry? I can make you a sandwich.”
    “I’m hungry, but I don’t want a sandwich.”
    Turning back at his refusal, she jumped. He stood less than a foot away. The damn man moved like a panther. Her insides quaked as he touched a long curl dangling over one breast.
    “You know what I want. Why are we fighting this, Miranda?”
    Because it won’t last. Because when it ends, I don’t want my heart crushed again.
    The reasons clamored in her brain like alarm bells, but the words refused to move from her brain to her tongue. Hadn’t he looked at Jackson with eyes full of love? Wasn’t there maybe, just maybe, a chance… She licked dry lips.
    Heat flared in his eyes, and with a growl, he took a final step forward and tugged her against his chest. “Are you going to stop me? It’s now or never.”
    Her breath came in shallow gasps as desire crashed over her in a wave, drowning common sense. Would one more time really hurt? At this point, what did she have to lose? Wasn’t a final, spectacular memory worth any additional pain? Because she had no doubt it would be memorable. Sex had never been the issue. Just the other twenty-two or so hours in the day.
    Tilting her chin, she met his gaze. “I won’t stop you.”
    His smile melted away the last of her doubts. When he lifted her off her feet, she wrapped her legs around his waist and pressed her face against his neck. Cole’s unique scent was more intoxicating than a couple of stiff shots of bourbon. Breathing deep, she held on tight while he carried her to the bedroom and lowered her onto the wedding ring quilt covering the bed.
    When she tried to sit up, he pushed her back against the pillows and knelt beside her. “Just lay there and let me look at you. I’ve been thinking about this for six months. Six long, lonely months.”
    She pressed her lips together to keep from laughing out loud at his poor me expression. “Is this your way of telling me it’s going to be short but sweet?”
    His eyes widened with indignation. “Hell, no. Darlin’, I’m gonna love you for every minute we have. And I’m praying the kid takes a very, very long nap.”
    A giggle escaped, but died on her lips when he yanked his T-shirt over his head. The hard muscles of his chest taunted and teased. She ran a finger across smooth skin along his ribcage, leaving a trail of goose bumps behind. He shivered and unsnapped his jeans, eyes glazing as he reached down to tug off his boots. They hit the floor with a couple of thuds.
    Fingers shaking, he unfastened each button of her sleeveless blouse to spread it wide. Color stained his cheekbones as he stroked the tops of her breasts above the lacy cups of her bra. Then, with a deft flick, he unfastened the clasp and pulled the straps from her arms.
    “God, Miranda, you’re even more beautiful than I remember—and there isn’t a thing wrong with my memory.”
    “I may have lost a couple of pounds. My friends eat when they’re depressed. I lose my appetite.”
    He picked up her hand and pressed it to his chest. The warm skin seared her palm, and the beat of his heart throbbed along her nerve endings.
    “It hurts me, knowing you were unhappy because of me. I only want what’s best for you.”
    “Right now, you’re what’s best. I don’t want to think about anything but what you’ll do to me, what you’ll make me feel.”
    Lids drooped over smoldering eyes as he unfastened the zipper on her shorts and tugged them down along with her panties. Lying naked before him, her heart beat so hard, it was nearly painful. Reminding herself to breathe, she waited while he shucked his jeans and briefs. When he straddled her thighs, her body clenched in anticipation.
    How did I survive without this?
    Hot skin