Mating Fever (6 page)

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Authors: Celeste Anwar

BOOK: Mating Fever
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Jessica screamed and giggled, and pulled her
arm free before running down the street. He chased after her,
ignoring the strange looks others cast their way. He caught her
before she could elude him, took them into the shelter of a
doorway.

 

Jessica felt breathless from her run and
looked around, saw that they were virtually alone, and the shop was
abandoned. He had a knack for finding cozy, lonely spots. She
glanced up at him to see him grinning down at her.

 

He leaned back on the opposite side, keeping
some space between them.

 

“You gonna start callin’ me Pepe now?”

 

Jessica chuckled. “It crossed my mind. I’m
mean, aren’t I?”

 

“Maybe a liddle. I like a mean woman
though.”

 

“Hey! You’re not supposed to agree with me.”
She mock kicked his shin.

 

He rubbed his leg with his opposite
foot. “Ow. You know how to kill d’romance,
chere
. I don’ mind a liddle beatin’ now and then,
but this? Aren’t you s’posed to tie me up first before you have
your wicked way with me?”

 

Gabriel really knew how to implant a
mental picture. Just imaging him naked, tied, and spread-eagled on
a bed gave her hot flashes. “Uh. I’m not into that. And you, you’re
changing the subject. Admit it. Don’t you think you come on too
strong?” Truth be told, it wasn’t him that was the problem, it was
her. He was perfect. She just wasn’t used to a hot pursuit,
particularly not from a man she actually
wanted
to pursue her.

 

He shrugged. “I got to work fast. No time to
take it slow.” He gave her a sultry grin. “Besides, it’s workin’,
ain’t it?”

 

She had no idea what he meant by that
statement, but that smile said enough. She wasn’t going to admit
just how much he tempted her to do all the wicked things she
shouldn’t be doing. “No. As a matter of fact, you’re really just
wasting your time.”

 

The look on his face said he didn’t
believe her. “Why do you fight so hard,
petite
? Why cain’t you just feel?”

 

Jessica’s humor vanished. She was forcibly
reminded of past mistakes, of letting people get too close. Her
self-esteem was bad about getting beaten, but she preferred to
think of herself as a realist. Beautiful people stuck with other
beautiful people, and she most definitely wasn’t in their class.
“I’m afraid I’ll get addicted,” she admitted, slanting him a look.
“Guys like you don’t stick around, especially not with girls like
me.”

 

“You sell yourself short,” he said
softly.

 

Jessica shrugged. She wasn’t when it was the
truth. “It’s better than getting hurt.”

 

“Livin’ in a shell ain’t really livin’ at
all”

 

Hadn’t she heard that over and over again?
She shrugged again, trying to be nonchalant. “I’m used to it. I
like not feeling anything, especially with men. I like my life
simple and uncomplicated. Love is so messy.”

 

“Some say it’s not good if it ain’t dirty and
sticky.”

 

He had a way of talking that set her nerves
on fire. She wanted to ignore that desperate attraction to him.
“Yeah, well, not me. I’m a clean freak. And I like freedom.”

 

As she talked, she sensed a growing tension
in Gabriel, like some dark cloud building for a storm. She didn’t
know what she’d said to piss him off, but she was definitely
getting that vibe from him. Unfortunately, she couldn’t think of a
way to dig herself out of her hole without really knowing what
she’d done--only dug in deeper with her rambling. Finally, she
dared to look up at him and saw his face had gone hard, his eyes
cold and angry.

 

He stared at her a long, drawn moment,
knotting her stomach with nervousness at his continued silence. It
seemed he’d listened to every word she’d said--and he hadn’t liked
a one of them. “When I kiss you, you don’t feel nothin’?”

 

She swallowed past the sudden lump in her
throat. “No,” she lied, feeling a frightened anticipation
swallowing her insides.

 

He was on her before she could blink,
trapping her with an arm on either side of her head, his face
inches from her own. He was so close, his breath fanned against her
cheek and forehead, hot and spicy as the meal they’d consumed and
the black coffee he’d drank.

 

Energy seemed to vibrate from him, forcing
her to hold absolutely still, forcing her insides to react to him
like a magnet. She could feel the heat of his breath on her face,
felt enveloped by his subtle, masculine scent. Every nerve ending
reached out to him, reached to feel his body press tightly against
her. He didn’t close the distance, didn’t meld to her. Somehow,
that near touching had her reacting more than if he’d been right up
against her.

 

His voice low, husky, and full of promise, he
said, “If I kiss you like this, your breath don’t catch?”

 

He settled his mouth over hers before she
could stop him. Soft, coaxing, he pulled at her lips in a hungry,
nibbling kiss that had her muscles quivering in response.

 

Jessica moaned softly, her mouth parting,
willing his tongue to play with hers. He refused to oblige, teased
her maddeningly, licking and sucking at her lips, keeping her
hovering on the edge of anticipation. She couldn’t ever remember
wanting to be invaded so badly in all her life, and he wouldn’t
give her anything.

 

He retreated from her after a moment, a lazy,
satisfied smile curling his lips, as if she’d reacted exactly the
way he’d wanted her to. She wanted to growl in frustration, reach
up and force his head back down to kiss her as deeply as she
craved.

 

A small gasp escaped her throat as he brought
a hand down from the wall, trailed his fingers through her hair and
over her shoulder, brushing against the side of one breast. “If I
touch you here, your heart don’t race?”

 

It did. Without even touching her, he made
her heart gallop. A look, a smile, the way he walked--it was like
some dream come true that he could be interested in her. Blood
roared in her ears from the heavy pace. The only sound she could
hear above it was his velvet drawl tormenting her with soft words
and husky promises.

 

A thumb grazed over the soft peak of her
nipple. She gasped at the faint touch, her pulse quickening, her
nipple hardening as he moved in a slow, taunting circle. She tried
to brace herself against the sensation, failed miserably. Her
breast begged for more. She bit her lip to keep from asking him to
touch her. He sensed her struggle, smiled, closed his hand over her
breast. A piercing stab of pleasure arced through her as he
massaged her with a possessive hand, as though he had every right
to bend her to his will and make her want him.

 

His lips brushed against her earlobe, so
soft, so teasing. He freed her breast, and she felt like crying out
as he flattened his hand beneath it and moved a steady trail down
her stomach, over her hips. His lips played with her earlobe,
sucking at it, tugging the flesh with his teeth as his fingers
skated up and down her hips.

 

Jessica’s hands clenched with the effort not
to reach for him and tear the jeans off his body so he could take
her right there in the street in front of god and anyone who cared
to look. She itched to hold onto something, but if she moved, she’d
break down--nothing would be left. She felt distracted, touched
everywhere. She closed her eyes, tried to focus ... and it
intensified the riotous feelings a hundred-fold. When his hand
slipped up under her skirt, she hardly noticed, only felt that
callused palm on her thighs, so deliciously rough, making her feel
so sensitive. He teased the edges of her panties, and she trembled
with excitement and trepidation.

 

No, this wasn’t what she wanted. But deep
inside, she did. She wanted to open her thighs to him, but a voice
of self-preservation nagged like an annoying gnat. Her legs closed
against his hand, but he was insistent, moving inexorably toward
her moist folds. The fine hairs on her thighs prickled with
unfamiliar sensation.

 

“And here....” he whispered hot against her
ear, arousingly invasive.

 

His fingers pushed past the flimsy barrier of
her panties, delved into the top of her slit in one bold move,
rubbing sensuously, achingly close to her clit. Jessica’s eyes flew
open with shock. She found him watching her, lust in his smoky
eyes. A rush of raw heat flushed her body. She pushed at his chest,
pulled at his arm, squirming and unable to get away.

 

“You’re wet for me,
petite
,” he said, his voice tight and hoarse.
“There’s no denyin’ it.” His muscles strained against her. His arm
felt hard against her belly, his fingers foreign. This wasn’t
supposed to happen.

 

“Stop it,” she whispered, trying to look
away, at the street, at the shop, anywhere but him and his knowing
eyes. He didn’t miss anything about her or her reaction. He was
merciless and in charge.

 

“Why?” Do you feel sometin’ you ain’t
supposed to?”

 

She rose on her toes, arching her head back
as one finger flicked against her clit, igniting a wicked response
within her. Her clitoris practically screamed yes!

 

A chain of pleasure unwound inside her,
fierce and breathtakingly sudden. “No,” she said through gritted
teeth, fighting the feeling when all she wanted to do was surrender
and grind herself on his hand. She couldn’t. Not here, not out in
the open where anyone could happen by at any moment. He shouldn’t
make her feel so tempted to give in.

 

“I think you do.” He straightened from her as
abruptly as he’d begun, leaving her feeling achingly unfulfilled
and pissed that he’d begun something only to make a point.

 

“I never figured you for a coward,” he said,
watching her straighten her dress.

 

Before Jessica knew it, she’d slapped him.
Her palm cracked across his face, slamming the satisfied,
challenging look right off it. She looked at him in horror, unable
to believe she’d actually done physical harm to him. She hadn’t hit
him hard enough to leave her hand print, but she’d struck him all
the same. She looked from her hand to his face and back again,
feeling numb from shock.

 

A dark fury settled over him. It was as
obvious as the sky turning black and the wind howling through the
trees.

 

Here was a man you didn’t mess with. She’d
done what her mama had always warned her not to do--never get
physical with a man. Cold dread slid down her spine.

 

Rough hands grabbed her biceps, forced her
back against the wall. Male strength crushed against her, taking
the breath from her body--muscles hard and angry against her soft
curves. Jessica gasped in surprise as he brought his mouth down on
hers, thrust his tongue past the part of her lips, deep inside. She
tasted the anger in his kiss. Her lips burned under the heavy
pressure, the rough glide of his tongue, in and out, leaving no
space untouched. He was ravenous, consuming her silent pleas to
stop ... to go on....

 

Potent, male excitement pervaded her senses
like flood gates thrown wide. He growled low in his throat,
thrusting his hips against her as if in emphasis that he controlled
her. She was his to do with as he willed and nothing would stop
him. His hard cock rubbed against her in rough warning. One wrong
move and he’d take her, willing or no.

 

Thrilling fear moved in a heady rush through
her limbs like a shot of ecstasy. Her heart hammered in her chest.
She wanted to cry out when he forced her legs apart with rough
hands, but his mouth muffled her cries, kept taking and taking
until she couldn’t give any more, and still he kissed her. She
couldn’t breathe, could barely think. All the blood pooled between
her thighs, rushing to that hot, insane place that wanted him,
wanted the angry, hard feel of his cock deep inside. She pushed
against his arms, needing to be free before she completely lost her
mind, but one stroke against her sparsely covered cleft had her
digging her nails into his flesh in mindless pleasure.

 

He tore his mouth from hers, gasping hoarsely
against her throat, pumping against her in short, rough strokes,
his fingers digging into the backs of her knees. Jessica scraped
her nails down his back, arching into him, shaking her head as he
dragged his teeth down her throat and groaned with pure
satisfaction. It rumbled through her, her body echoing with
primitive response.

 

“How much you want me to push
you,
cherie
?” he asked
hoarsely against the base of her throat. His tongue snaked out,
bathed her. Her skin felt on fire as he lathed her collarbone and
sucked against the crook of her neck. Hard.

 

She jerked to instant awareness, opening her
eyes. Her hands went still as he stiffened against her. “It’s not a
contest, you bastard.”

 

He met her gaze, his eyes unbelievably dark.
His chest heaved, his arms shook with the effort to control
himself. Slowly, with effort, he dropped her legs. “You fool
yourself if you don’ believe life is a challenge. There’s only one
prize in the end.”

 

Jessica pushed away from him, wiping her
mouth and neck. She could smell him everywhere. Taste him. It made
her weak. She couldn’t afford to be weak. “Just leave me alone.
This is a mistake.”

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