Mills and Book Christmas Gift Box!
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Here's a taste...
His clean scent, his hard body reposed beneath her, and those lips tugging beneath her gentle fingers. If she ever truly required punishment for mistakes of her past, then this was it - the impossibility of wanting Dylan Kelly and the enduring ache it left in the region of her heart.
She shot to her feet, the fresh air swarming between them allowing her to catch her breath.
Then his hand wrapped about her ankle. She got such a fright she dropped everything in her hands. Make-up wipes floated to her floor like snow.
‘Dylan,’ she warned, her voice husky.
‘Wynnie,’ he returned, in a voice she’d never heard before. It was so deep, so dark, so blatantly hungry she actually shivered.
‘What are you doing?’ she asked.
His cheek lifted. His hand slid further up her calf, sliding the wide hem of her track pants with it. ‘What do you think I’m doing?’
Something you shouldn’t, she thought before her eyes drifted closed and she breathed out hard through her nose.
Accidental touches, touches under the guise of being polite or professional - to this moment that had been it. And each and every one of those innocuous touches had set her nerves alight. His purposeful touch was irresistible.
‘What are you doing all the way over there?’ he asked, giving her a tug and putting her off balance.
‘I’m done,’ she said. ‘You’re on your way to being healed.’
‘Honey, we’re not even close to done.’
GETTING RED-HOT WITH THE ROGUE
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