His Moment to Steal (Book 4)
In the Line of Duty, Book 4
Ex-military security specialist Luke Phillips would like nothing more than to walk away from his latest job, especially when he realizes the upscale market owner is the daughter of the man responsible for his year spent in juvie.
Except he promised the kids at the community center new and updated equipment. He has no choice but to keep to himself and try not to get mixed up with Emery Vincent. No matter how sweet and sexy she is.
One look at Luke starts Emery’s heart fluttering—along with other specific body parts. But she knows better than to act on those urges with a bad boy who looks at her like he’s been living off rations and she’s the market’s hot lunch special.
But when he rescues her and bandages up her scuffed knee, the heat between them explodes. While a future between them is impossible, hot, sweaty sex is guaranteed—at least until the job is done. Unless Luke can let go of the past and risk it all for love.
She inched her skirt up a tiny bit, and that’s when it occurred to Luke that he had to be some sort of damn masochist. What the hell was he thinking? Being this close to her, between her long gorgeous legs, nonetheless, was an exercise in frustration. His cock jumped, warning him that he was setting himself up for failure.
He coughed to hide the moan rising in his throat.
“You okay?” she asked, her knees clenched tightly together.
Christ, he was anything but.
“Yeah.” He lightly brushed one knees, removing the small pieces of gravel. She winced. “Sorry.”
When he went to work on the other, she leaned forward and her hair flared around his face. “How does it look?”READ MORE
“You’re scuffed a bit, but once I clean and bandage it, you should be okay.” He ran the cloth over her again, and her knees relaxed. He slowly widened them, and he was almost certain he noticed a change in her breathing as he washed and checked for injuries in between her legs.
He set the cloth aside, and grabbed the alcohol. “This is probably going to sting a bit too.” He poured the alcohol onto a cotton ball and dabbed it onto her raw flesh. She let go of the hem of her skirt, and gripped the edge of the tub. He cast her a quick glace. “Okay?” She nodded, and trying to lighten the mood, he said, “You’re kind of tough.”
“Maybe you’re just good at what you do?”
Damned if he didn’t want to show her what he was really good at.
When he looked back down her skirt had slipped over her knees. As she continued to squeeze the tub, he slid his hand under the hem, pushing it up, just a tiny bit higher than she had it before. His hands trailed along her creamy thighs, so soft, and smooth all he could think about was widened them even more and running his tongue over her, tasting her sweetness as his mouth traveled higher and higher, to the warm spot that had been pressing against his lower back on the ride over.
“Jesus,” he cursed, and clenched down on his jaw to get his shit together.
“What?” she asked, sounding breathless.
Not realizing that he’d said that out loud, he looked up at her, and when he saw desire reflecting in her eyes, it became his undoing.
He looked at her mouth, and she wet her bottom lip with her tongue, like she was preparing her mouth for him.
Walk away, dude. Just walk away.
A long strand of hair fell forward, and her warm, sweet scent reached his nostrils, shattering his last vestige of control. Jesus, he wanted to fuck her. Wanted to push her skirt up over her hips, tear off her panties and pound in to her so hard and so fast that he forget she was one them, that they didn’t belong together. His blood pulsed as sexual heat flooded him, driving ever sane thought away.
Sexual tension arced between them and engulfed the room. Hanging like fog, it was thick and heavy enough to obscure a battlefield, and camouflage the enemy. His glance moved over her face, and every reason for staying away from her suddenly seemed so insignificant.
Why was sleeping with her was a bad idea?
His hands travelled higher on her legs and his desire for her mounted as she leaned into him. Just one taste. That’s all he’d take. One simple taste.