Pleasure consumed his senses. Her sharp little nails rasping against the back of his neck like a cat kneading in pleasure. She arched against him, her lips moved beneath his, taking his kiss as he took hers. And those tempting, firm little breasts, confined as they were in that bra, pressed into his chest, rubbed against it, and drove spikes of sensation straight to his dick.

God help him, he’d never wanted anyone … anything … like he wanted this woman.

CHAPTER 4

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Kenni’s senses were overwhelmed. Pleasure rose and surged through her body, blood rushing through her veins, her flesh sensitized and tingling with exquisite sensation at each brush of his body against hers.

It was incredible. It was more intense than she’d ever imagined it could be. And she’d really imagined it many, many times in her fantasies. Those fantasies were nothing compared with the real thing. Not even close.

His lips moved over hers possessively, his tongue pushing past, taking languid tastes of hers as heat built and surged through her senses. She was lost in the pleasure, lost in each taste of the wild passion she was given.

One hand buried in her hair, his fingers clenching in the strands and tugging at them erotically, sending sharp little bursts of sensation racing through her scalp. It wasn’t pain, but a biting sensation of heat she might become addicted to.

But then she could become addicted to everything about Jazz. Every touch, every note of his voice, the warmth of his body.

“Damn you.” Hoarse, roughened with male lust, Jazz’s voice whispered over her ear as his lips slid from hers, along her jaw, to nip at the lobe of her ear.

Kenni shivered at the rush of sensation that tore through her. His lips moved down the column of her neck, his tongue taking flicking tastes of her skin. Turning her head to his neck she let herself taste him as well, need surging through her, raking over her senses as she gripped the tough skin at the base of his neck and nipped it.

God, she loved the taste of him. It was all male and wild, like a storm coming over the mountains.

When he nipped her shoulder in return a moan escaped her lips, electric sensation racing through her at the feel of his teeth rasping against her skin.

Dizzying pleasure filled her, weakened her.

“How sweet you are,” he whispered at her ear, the rasp of his cheek against her neck dragging a low moan from her throat.

She had waited for this, dreamed of it. Being in Jazz’s arms, the spearing heat and aching, building tension rising inside her had her arching, needing to feel more of him.

“Jazz.” His name slipped past her lips again, a desperate plea for more as he ran one hand from her back to her rear and lifted her closer to him.

“Spread your legs, grip my hips, baby. Hold on to me.”

Her knees tightened at his hips, her head resting against the wall as he pressed his erection into the vee of her thighs. Separated by the material of his jeans and the thin cotton of her shorts, it was still little protection against the devastating eroticism. His hips rotated, moving against her, rasping the tender bud of her swollen clit with the material of her shorts.

Damp heat spilled from the feminine folds, saturating her flesh, slickening her, preparing her for him.

How was she supposed to hold out against him now? Deny him? It was a taste of ecstasy, of a dream she knew she should have never tempted.

“That’s it, darlin’, burn for me,” he encouraged her, his lips moving along her neck, his teeth nipping at her flesh, sending flares of heat to the aching depths of her vagina.

She had waited for this for so long. She’d dreamed of it, ached for it. Yet she had never imagined she would come apart in his arms as she was now; that the pleasure could tear at her senses and dissolve every barrier she came up with against it.

“Damn. Not like this…” The rough, furious growl had her dragging her eyes open, staring up at him in shock as he set her feet on the floor and stepped back.

The icy chill sweeping over her was agonizing. Deprived of his heat, of the pleasure burning through her, she suddenly realized just how cold she had been for so long.

“What…? Jazz…?” Kenni swallowed tightly, her palms flattening against the wall to keep from reaching for him, from silently begging for him.

Just a few more minutes, she thought desperately. Couldn’t she have had just a few more minutes?

Pushing his fingers roughly through his hair Jazz stalked across the room before turning and glaring back at her, his blue eyes intense behind the narrowed shield of those thick lashes.

“You make me fucking crazy,” he muttered, a hint of anger burning in his eyes now.

The statement had her staring back at him in disbelief.

“I make you crazy?” What the hell had she done to him this time? “You’re the one who barged in on me tonight, not the other way around.” Anger instantly overcame the erotic weakness that had invaded her knees. Her hands went to her hips, outrage filling her. “I did not ask you to show up here and start kissing me, Jazz Lancing. You did that all on your own, so don’t blame me if you regret it now.”

Damn him. Double damn him. What made him think he could jerk her to him and make her want him with a desperation that bordered on insanity, only to blame her for it?

“I didn’t say I regretted a damned thing.” The low, deep tone of his voice had her tensing at the warning in it. “I said you make me fucking crazy.”

“You were crazy long before I showed up.” She flipped her hand toward him dismissively. “Why don’t you just go on home and leave me the hell alone now. And next time, call before you show up so I can leave before you get here. You just end up giving me a headache.”

And making her do things she knew were foolhardy. Things like wishing she was back in his arms, like wanting to beg for more when she knew more would only end up destroying her further.

She couldn’t afford Jazz, her soul couldn’t afford Jazz. It was bad enough he was her greatest sexual fantasy and her deepest desire all rolled up in one sexy, hard, mountain-bred warrior. If she could be certain he wouldn’t go to Cord, certain his ties to the Kin weren’t as strong as they once were, then she would have asked him for help. Maybe.

Three months of watching him, though, tracking him, and still she didn’t know if his loyalties would lie with her or with Cord and the Kin.

If anyone could have helped her, though, it would have been Jazz.

“Well, ain’t that just too bad, sweet pea,” he snarled, glaring back at her. “So I guess you just better get used to that headache because I’ll be damned if I’ll give you a warning of any fucking thing.”

And wasn’t that just like him. Stubborn, mule-headed man that he was, had been for as long as she’d known him.

“You’re being unreasonable…”

“Well, excuse me,” he snarled back at her. “Evidently that’s what happens when I get this hard for a woman who refuses to come to me on her own.”

Well, now, shouldn’t that have just clued him in at some point?

“Who refuses to beg, you mean?” Crossing her arms beneath her breasts Kenni flashed him a disgusted look. “I won’t beg you, Jazz, nor will I fawn over your dubious charms. I’m not one of your little harem bunnies.”

There were nights, though, when she would have begged to be at least that much. She needed, ached, prayed that one day she would feel secure enough to let him hold her for a little while. For a night.

“It would be a damned sight better for both of us if you were,” he muttered before turning and stalking to the front door. “I’m leaving before I end up saying or doing something we’ll both regret. But this isn’t over, sweetheart. Not by a long shot.” At the door he turned back to her, his expression tight with such male dominance and complete arrogance that she could only stare back at him in surprise and disbelief. “Don’t even think I won’t be back, because I promise you I will be. And when I do, you and I are going to have a few things to discuss.”