Mine to Entice Page 10

  Kate walked out of Mitchell’s office and ran right into Ken.

  “Ms. Quinn. What brings you to my father’s office?”

  She looked down at Ken’s hands, but they were in his pockets.

  She brushed past him and exited the building. She was convinced that Ken was in Mrs. LePlante’s apartment. The why she didn’t know for sure, but she was going to prove that he was there.

  She hailed a cab. There was one more stop she had to make before she went home.

  WHEN KATE GOT TO the hallway of her building, Jericho was there, pacing. When he stepped out of the shadow into the silvery light, he looked beat. She had no idea what he had been doing all day, but although she knew he’d had a rough night and a busy day, he still looked…driven. It didn’t matter to her how he looked. It had been inevitable from the beginning. It was time to stop playing games. He was so handsome in his black silk T-shirt that molded against the contours of his chest and the tight, faded jeans took his danger quotient up a notch. The devil in blue jeans. His hair was mussed, as if he’d been running his hands through it for hours. It was such a sharp contrast to the perfectly coiffed, impeccably dressed, fully-in-control prosecutor that she stopped dead in the hall to take it all in.

  She took in the view of all that prowling male energy. The man must exude it out of his pores. His charisma was a tangible thing. His eyes cleared when he saw her.

  Inside she was in turmoil, but she acted carefully nonchalant when she walked toward him.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  It wasn’t what she’d expected him to say and she immediately bristled at his growling tone. “I’m coming home from work and having to deal with a jerk.”

  “Huh.”

  “That would be you. The jerk.”

  “I’m sorry. I got a call from the D.A. and he was mad as hell about one of his employees harassing one of his biggest campaign contributors. What were you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking that Ken Mitchell killed Mrs. LePlante and framed Danny for it.” She shoved her key into the lock and opened the door.

  He pushed his way inside and slammed the door behind him. She almost didn’t know this out-of-control, frantic man.

  “It’s not your job to investigate leads. That’s for the police.”

  “I don’t give a damn, Jericho. I’m not going to let Danny go to jail! If that ruins your precious campaign contributor’s day, that’s too damn bad!”

  “I don’t give a damn about him. You can harass his whole damn family. I…need you. I’m desperate for you.” He clasped her around the waist and sank to his knees, still clutching her waist.

  She went limp with shock. Jericho was begging her. Finally, he was begging her. She could only feel sorry she’d made him wait when all she’d wanted to do from the moment she’d laid eyes on him was to slide into his arms, into a maelstrom of sensations and emotions.

  She stared down into his hot, dark eyes; a hot, trembling sensation was spreading throughout her body. Her fingers threaded through his soft brown hair. His chin was pressed against her navel, and he gripped her hips, the intense warmth of his big hands sinking through the fabric.

  Her throat was vibrating, her whole body was vibrating, as if she were about to shake apart.

  “Please,” she whispered. She reached down and grabbed his shoulders. “Jericho, I can’t bear it.”

  He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, shaking his head in helpless frustration. “Please believe me, I really don’t want to wreck this.”

  The baffled hurt in his voice pained her. “You didn’t,” she blurted out. “You haven’t. But I can’t just let myself go like you want me to. Or at least…I shouldn’t.”

  “You did a pretty good job of that at my house last night. I’ve thought of nothing else. You were…amazing. I’ve been hard on and off all day thinking about every breathless moment,” he murmured, his voice low and textured like raw silk—rough and smooth at once, beckoning a woman to reach out and touch him, tempting her, luring her closer.

  He pressed his nose against her stomach and breathed deeply. “Last night, the way you felt. It scared you.”

  “Down to my toes. I’ve never felt so turned on, so lustful.”

  “Ever?”

  “It’s you Jericho. I want to turn myself on for you.” Since he refused to stand she slid to her knees. “The way you looked at me. The way you wanted me. I’ve craved that for years before I ever knew you. It was you I wanted.”

  “Damn,” he breathed. “I’m wondering how we waited so long.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Fear? Stupid inner rules. Who knows? It ends now, Kate.”

  “Yes, please. I can’t wait for you any longer.” She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his rough face. The temptation to let herself go tugged harder on her.

  As his lips found her throat and he began to kiss her with teasing little taste-testing kisses, the temptation grew stronger.

  “Jericho, you have the most beautiful—” she broke off at the breathless sound of her voice “—mouth.”

  He chuckled wickedly against her neck, sliding a hand up and down her upper arms, his thumb brushing seductively against the side of her breast. “Wait until I show you what I can do with it.”

  9

  A JOLT OF PURE LONGING shuddered through her and her hands went into his hair. The strands were so soft. She twisted in his grasp and clasped his hand, guiding him to her breast. She had ignored her physical needs for so long, she had forgotten what it was to want a man.

  No, that wasn’t quite right. The realization flashed through the haze of her desire. She had never known what it was to want a man. Not the way she wanted Jericho. She had grown up suppressing her sexuality, avoiding the unknown quicksand of desire and want, using her mind to forge ahead.

  She’d been wrong. As Jericho placed tantalizing kisses down her slender throat to the tender curve of her shoulder, desire ignited inside her like tinder to an out-of-control flame. It excited her, drew her even as it frightened her.

  “Show me,” she pleaded, her muscles melting with the warmth of desire.

  “It’ll be my pleasure,” he murmured, kissing his way back up her neck to her ear. He traced the tip of his tongue around the rim of the delicate shell, took the lobe between his lips and sucked gently.

  “I burn for you, Kate.” To prove his point, he caught her hand and pressed it to the front of his jeans, thrusting her palm against his erection, holding her there while he brushed kisses along her jaw to the corner of her mouth and explored her lips skillfully with the tip of his tongue. “I want you,” he whispered seductively.

  Kate shivered like a woman in the grasp of a raging fever, hot then cold, on the verge of incoherence. Logic evaporated in the wake of Jericho’s sensual assault. He covered her hand with his and molded her fingers over the proof of his words. He was hard and throbbing and an answering pulse pounded in the pit of her belly. She stole a breath and felt her knees wobble beneath her.

  “I don’t usually have casual sex.”

  His expression grew serious, intense, as he stared down at her and a tremor went through her. This Jericho looked like a dominant male, a predator, capable of anything.

  “There’s nothing casual about this.” He lifted his hand and cupped her cheek, the fire in his eyes flaring. “About us.”

  Then he lowered his head and kissed her, insistently, demanding and provoking. His lips, firm and smooth and oh, so clever, moved against hers, rubbed over hers, seduced hers into her own ravenous response. He inched a step closer. Raising his other hand and sliding his fingers back into her silky hair, he tugged her head back for a better angle.

  “Yes, Kate,” he murmured. “I want it all. Give it to me. Kiss me harder,” he commanded on a phantom breath. “Take me, taste me.”

  Jericho’s mouth moved relentlessly over hers, claiming, beguiling, seducing, giving so much pleasure her head swam.

  With
a deep groan, she obeyed his command, working her lips frantically against his. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, pressing up against the steely muscles of his chest.

  Jericho stood abruptly and brought her with him. He groaned at her surrender and deepened the kiss. With firm, sensuous strokes, he eased his tongue into her mouth, probing deeply, brazenly. She responded to him with an enthusiastic maneuver of her own, her tongue tracing his lower lip, dipping inside his mouth.

  He sucked at her gently, and need overwhelmed her like a vise as she trembled strongly against him.

  Unable to wait any longer to feel his skin against hers, she boldly swept her hands down to his waist and the hem of his shirt. Eagerly, she pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. Heat poured through her, molten, liquid heat, searing her veins, pooling in her groin. He gasped when her hands glided back up his hard, hot chest.

  Kate swept her hands over the smooth, solid muscles and contours of his body, exploring his strength. She couldn’t get enough of touching him, wanted to press into him and feel that power and heat against the length of her and absorb it through her skin. When his hands settled on her waist and he touched the hem of her top, Kate groaned at the feel of his hands against the bare skin of her waist. With one sweep, he pulled it over her head and away from them. The removal of her bra was a whisper of silk and lace.

  She stepped closer to him, her breasts jutting out, aching for contact. What was left of her breath evaporated as her breasts flattened against him, her nipples burning and aching at the contact.

  Jericho growled low in his throat as he kissed her. He trailed his fingertips down the indentation of her spine, stroking every inch of her skin, every hollow. Dragging her against him, he lifted her hips to his. The hard ridge of his arousal broadcast loud and clear how badly, how urgently, he wanted her. She wrapped her arms around him, her breasts sliding against the hard wall of his chest. She kissed his throat, his shoulder. Her tongue dipped into the spot at the base of his throat and desire surged through her.

  His fingers fumbled with the button and zipper at the back of her skirt. Kate sent her hands back there to cover his, aiding him, her heart contracting at the way his hands trembled. With frantic hands, he sent the tailored skirt down around her ankles. His fingers played with the waistband of her blue lace panties, his fingers like licks of flame against her skin.

  At last she was naked in his arms. His eyes flashed heat in the quiet room as he drank in the sight of her with starving eyes.

  “Exquisite,” he whispered. He pulled her tight against him. His mouth found hers again and he kissed her with a hunger that spoke volumes.

  Kate moaned, reveling in the sheer texture of his mouth, the heady scent of a powerfully aroused male. She was beyond need as Jericho bent her back over his hard, muscled forearm. This was what Paige had been talking about, the full, carnal experience of a man and a woman. It made her so acutely aware that she had been doing nothing but merely existing. This was life at its essence, at its most intense. It throbbed through her, pulsed within her, made her ache with hunger.

  She arched into his touch when his hand closed over her breast. He cupped it gently and gasped as the need for his touch burst inside her. The shattering sensations his fingers evoked as they played over her flesh made her breath shallow and quick. When he slicked both hands down her spine and over her buttocks, kneading, squeezing, she slid her arms around his neck and rose up again on tiptoe against him, offering all that she was. His fingertips traced down the center line, his eyes taking great pleasure in watching her reaction. She gasped at his exploration, his fingers arousing and knowing set off detonations of utter sensual ecstasy, skipped across each nerve ending to coil and vibrate at the base of her spine. Then his hand slipped between their bodies and he speared his fingers into the nest of soft curls that covered her femininity, and fire burst through her, taking her breath. With each slide of his skillful fingers, her hips jerked forward and back uncontrollably.

  “That’s it,” he whispered, stroking the silken, moist, ultrasensitive flesh between her thighs. “Want me. Show me how you’ll move when my cock is inside you.”

  Slowly he lowered her to the blue cushions of the couch directly behind her, following her down, sprawling over her. She arched her back off the cushion as he found her breasts with his mouth, capturing her nipple between his lips and sucking hard on the aching tip, then stroking her with his tongue. He repeated the process again and again, until she thought she couldn’t stand the sweet torment a second longer, then he captured the other straining nipple and feasted on her.

  Kate entwined her hands in his dark hair and moved impatiently beneath him, soft, wild sounds of longing thrummed in her throat. She wrapped her legs around his hips, the denim of his jeans rough against the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, the abrasion setting off explosions in her groin. Lifting her hips against his belly, she sought contact with the hardest part of his body, seeking to assuage the vital ache that burned at the crux of her desire.

  With his thumb he pushed against her stiff, swollen clit. With a deep moan, Kate opened her legs to his touch, aching for him to fill the hot, tight, silken pocket between her thighs.

  He delved into her sheath, sinking deep, then almost retreating from her, widening his fingers as he eased out of her, holding her open for a beat before thrusting deep into her again.

  “Oh, Jericho!” she cried, frantic, helpless, on the aching brink of fulfillment.

  He raised his head and smiled at her. Her lips, swollen from his kiss, moist and parted, begged for him as another part of her was begging for him.

  “You like this,” he whispered, stroking deep, then easing slowly out of her, opening her, stretching her.

  “Yes,” she gasped, lifting her hips, trying to urge him into her again.

  “Think how good it’ll be when my cock is deep inside you,” he coaxed in a silky-smooth voice. “I want to see you come again,” he murmured. He kissed her quivering stomach, mouth open, hot, wet tongue dipping into her navel. “Do you want it as bad as I do, Katie?”

  “I want you inside me.”

  “Have you ever taken what you want, Katie? Really taken.”

  She sucked in a heated breath and writhed in response to the coil of craving that constricted and squeezed within her. She’d never been more ready, never wanted like this. She reared up, pushing on his shoulders, shoving him back against the cushions of her couch with all her strength.

  She reached for the button on his jeans, grasping at the zipper tab, desperate to free him.

  His body tightened as if in a vise and he moaned softly at her show of force. She fought to get the zipper down over his erection. Just as she did so, his cock appeared as if spring loaded.

  At this moment Kate didn’t know the meaning of the word patience. She wanted Jericho. Now. She reached for him again as he shoved his jeans down. Sitting up, she pressed fervent kisses to his chest as she closed her fingers around his thick, pulsing shaft.

  She had barely gotten her mouth around the head of his erection when he jerked her away. “No,” he said hoarsely. “I can’t last and I want to be inside you.”

  She tumbled him back onto the cushions. He slashed a hand across himself to keep her from taking him into her body. Momentarily confused, Kate looked down into his eyes.

  They were like chunks of burning wood. “Protection,” he whispered hoarsely. She pushed his hand aside and protected him herself before guiding him to her. He squeezed his eyes shut as she eased his tip into her. His chest was heaving. Every muscle quivered with the strain of holding himself back. Then Kate took the decision away from him, surging over him, taking half of him before crying out.

  “Jericho! Oh, Jericho!”

  “Take me, Kate,” he whispered between clenched teeth. She was almost out of her mind with pleasure, wanting nothing more than to bury him deep within her.

  Kate moaned, caught between agony and ecstasy, wanting to take all of
him, sure it was physically impossible. Fighting for breath, she fell forward, belly to belly, chest to chest. Grabbing at his upper arms for support, biceps hard as rock beneath her fingertips, she said breathlessly, “You’re so wonderfully big and deliciously thick.”

  His eyes flared at her admission, his head pressing hard into the couch, his breath erratic. “Damn, Kate, you’re making me crazy,” he said on a hard exhale.

  Enjoying this wonderful power over him, she eased a little deeper, a little deeper, teasing him beyond his and her limits. He surged up and captured one of her nipples, his hands going to her bottom. She fully expected him to take control and thrust his hips, driving his wonderfully hard cock full-length inside of her. But he held back, the strain showing in the corded muscles of his throat. This teasing process was exquisite torture. His hands cupped her face, dragging her mouth to his as he kissed her frantically, hotly whispered to her, coaxed her, teased her, making her gasp and groan uncontrollably.

  “Kate, please ride me. Hard and fast. Take me all—I’m dying,” he begged, rubbing his mouth against her oversensitive lips.

  Kate closed her eyes and slammed her hips down on him, taking him fully into her body. His mouth broke off in mid-kiss, turning his head to the side, moaning deep in his chest. His teeth sank into the side of her neck as he murmured hot, sexy words to her as they moved together. The pleasure built and intensified, swelling inside her until she could barely breathe for the pressure of it.

  Jericho’s kisses grew more urgent, more carnal, his thrusts deeper, driving, straining, filling her to bursting. The time for play faded, paled in the face of something hot and intense that enveloped them and threatened to consume them. Something like fear gripped Kate by the throat, and she tightened her hold on him, not sure where this was taking her or what would happen after.

  “Don’t fight it,” he whispered urgently, feeling the tension in her. He rubbed his cheek against hers, swept her hair back from her face, stared up into her eyes, open and giving and beautifully, erotically Jericho. “Don’t fight it. Let it happen.”