Trace of Fever
Page 83

 Lori Foster

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“I don’t know.” Her brain had been in a tailspin ever since hearing Helene’s voice on the phone, knowing she was with Trace, and hearing what she intended to do. Then finding him like that, ready, hurting, needing relief… “It seemed to me that you were sort of trying to resist the whole sexual chemistry until…well, until the drugs made it impossible.”
“Silly Priss.” Trace held her face and kissed her. It was a long, deep, tongue-twining kiss that left them both breathing deeply. “If all I wanted was relief, I could handle that alone.”
Her eyes flared. Was he saying…admitting… “I suppose.” Why was she blushing? He was the one who’d said it.
And he didn’t look the least embarrassed. Very matter-of-fact, actually.
“That, uh, that wouldn’t be as much…fun. Right?”
A slight smile went crooked. His thumbs brushed her cheeks, the corners of her mouth. “I could also find a willing woman easily enough.”
“I’m willing.”
His grin widened before he got it under control. “I meant a woman other than you.”
Her temper sparked. “I’m not sure I like where this is going.”
“Fact is, Priscilla, the drugs are still with me. I can’t deny that. And yes, I was trying to avoid getting too involved with you. You have so damn many secrets that it makes my head swim.”
Of all the nerve. “I have secrets?” She pushed his chest. “What about you!”
Almost laughing, he contained her hands and pulled her closer. “Truthfully, I want you. With or without drugs.” He brushed another, softer kiss to her lips. “But if you’re having second thoughts, if you’re not sure about this, I can go into the shower, take care of business and then we can get a good night’s sleep.”
Take care of business? Even though she blushed again, Priss said, “I wouldn’t mind watching that.”
“No.”
Hmm. “Maybe another time, then.” She tipped her head back and smiled up at him. “No second thoughts, Trace. I swear. I want you. Right now.”
Relief showed in his hazel eyes. “Good.” He slipped his fingers under the shoulder straps of her bra and peeled it down. His gaze was so intense, so hot that she felt it. For the longest time he just looked at her.
“Trace?”
“Damn, you’re beautiful.” And then he bent and drew her left nipple into his mouth.
It was wonderful. Amazing. She felt the stroke of his tongue, the pull of his mouth, all through her body.
He seemed in no hurry now to get on with it. In fact, he took his time, switching to her other nipple and drawing on her, teasing with his teeth until her knees went shaky.
Even when it felt too powerful, too concentrated to bear, his arms locked around her and kept her from pulling away. She could feel his erection again, as big and hard as before. Hoping to encourage him to haste, Priss moved against him, pressing and stroking.
He released her with a low groan. In the next second he had her lifted up and carried to the bed. He laid her flat and went to work on her jeans.
“You have protection?” Priss asked as her jeans got shoved to her knees, then down off her ankles, leaving her in a displaced bra and her panties.
“Yeah.” He kissed her belly, her navel, lower.
Wow.
“I figured we’d get together sooner or later, and I don’t take chances.”
“Responsible men are so sexy.”
He laughed, and given that his mouth was against her, it tickled.
Priss twisted to unfasten her bra and fling it away. “Take off your pants.”
“Not yet,” he said in a rush, staring at her br**sts. He breathed harder. “If I do that, I’ll lose control, and this is your turn.”
“My turn?” She wasn’t idiot, so she had an idea of what he meant, how she felt about that. Her stomach flip-flopped and her ni**les ached.
Trace slipped his big hand into the front of her panties, touching, seeking. His eyes closed as his fingers parted her. “I want your climax to be a foregone conclusion, because once I get inside you, Priss, I’m not going to last.”
“You aren’t?” That sounded intriguing—not that she could dredge up a lot of rational thought while he played with her.
“Just relax and I’ll explain everything.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
TRACE FORCED HIMSELF to pull back. Priss watched him with wide, curious eyes, her body shimmering in excitement. Reminding himself that this was her first time, that she’d been through hell tonight, and that she had a lot of emotional baggage, he gathered himself as much as he could.
He slid his fingers under the waistband of her tiny panties, then said, “Let’s get rid of these, okay?” He pulled them down and off her long legs. After dropping them off the side of the bed, he slowly drew a hand from her ankle to her knee, then up the inside of her thigh until he covered her pubic curls with his palm.
She bit her lip, but said nothing.
Trace sat on the side of the bed, looking at her, breathing in her scent, thinking of all he wanted to do to her and with her.
“I feel exposed.”
His gaze lifted to hers. “You are exposed.” Frowning, he asked, “You aren’t worried?”
“No.” She drew a couple of quick breaths. “It’s just that you’re looking at me like…like you’re examining me or something.”