Hot Commodity (Banks / Kincaid Family #1)(6)

His fingers stroked her bare waist; she had to admit she liked his touch. She liked the way he grew aroused. Leaning against him, she lifted her arms and jiggled her hips to the rhythm. He bent forward and nipped the sensitive flesh on her shoulder as his hand moved around to the front of her stomach and ground her back even harder against his erection. His fingers cupped her breasts through black leather.

Olivia gasped, her body instantly quickening. She’d never acted so slutty before. But this felt good. This felt incredible.

When she glanced around, she noticed other couples doing provocative things ten times worse than what she was doing. So she didn’t worry about pressing her backside against his hard-on and grinding for all she was worth.

Behind her, he made a harsh groan and snatched her wrist, hauling her toward the exit. Once they were outside in the fresher air, he spun her around and cupped her face with both hands, yanking her close for a kiss. Olivia let out a surprised yelp—which he promptly smothered with his mouth—and the sound transformed into a needy whimper.

But whoa. Her hottie fiancé could kiss. Liquor must’ve made his lips especially soft and pliable because it felt like he brushed pure silk across her mouth. He tasted of tequila and chocolate. Where he’d gotten chocolate, she had no idea. But she moaned and opened as soon as his seeking tongue traced the seam. Wet velvet entered and batted her tongue playfully before curiously sweeping across the back of her teeth.

Olivia clutched his hair and returned the favor. He growled, pressing her spine against the building as he cupped her ass and lifted her.

She tried to spread her legs so he could step between her thighs and get closer to the place that needed him the most. But her skirt was too tight to allow much movement. Whimpering in frustration, she bit his tongue and tightened her grip on his hair.

This definitely wasn’t the old Olivia in action. No matter how drunk she could get, never in a million years would that star debutante from Pasadena maul a complete stranger in the middle of a busy public sidewalk on the Las Vegas Strip. Never would she want him to pull her skirt up and press himself against her throbbing center. Never would she reach down to stroke him through his pants. But that’s exactly what happened.

As if reading her mind, he bunched her skirt until her legs could move freely. Sighing, she lifted a thigh and hooked her knee around his hips. He pushed close and, ahhhh, bliss. Her underwear rubbed against his fly.

With their mouths fused, she fought to get closer and he seemed just as desperate to press against her. For once in her life, Olivia didn’t care about anything except feeling a rushing orgasm. Crazy and totally insane as that was, she wanted this man inside her. Now. She was on the point of begging.

Hot hands returned to her ass. With her skirt gathered around her waist, she only had her underwear and fishnet obstructing his path. But since her underwear was a skimpy thong, he pretty much cupped bare skin. Seemingly surprised by this, he paused and pulled his mouth back only far enough to look into her eyes.

"Damn," he said and dipped his head for another kiss.

Olivia went under again. It felt like she was in the ocean. With his mouth on hers, she floated underwater where the world around her remained muted and pleasant. All she knew was his lips. But when he came up for air, it was like returning to the surface, and she could suddenly see and hear the traffic and passing conversations again. Until he dipped his head and she was, yes, once again sucked into the sensation of dangling. Absolutely soaring.

She didn’t even focus on the harsh voice saying, "Hey! You two. Hey, cut that out."

But she did notice when her fiancé was jerked away from her. Olivia yelped in surprise as she slid down the wall until her heels hit the sidewalk and she wobbled for footing. Her companion spun around to glare at the individual who’d yanked him away from her. But when he saw the uniformed police officer glaring back, he stumbled in reverse and bumped into her, pinning her momentarily to the wall.

Her eyes flared, and she quickly smoothed down her skirt.

"I told you two to stop," the officer lectured, scowling from her groom to her and back to her groom again.

Her intended winced, holding up both hands as if surrendering. "Sorry, ossif...officer," he gushed. "I was, well, I wasn’t paying attention to much of anything, ’cept her."

He glanced over his shoulder, and when their gazes met, he grinned engagingly, making Olivia swallow down a start of longing. There was just something so incredibly sweet and cuddly, yet wholly erotic, about this man she was going to marry.

She blinked, wondering how he could stand in such a submissive position with his hands in the air and smile at her like he didn’t have a care in the world.

"That’s obvious," the officer muttered, his eyes narrowing. "Now, how much have you had to drink tonight, buddy?"

Olivia’s groom turned to direct his glazy grin toward the cop. "A lot," he admitted openly and cheerfully. Then he hiccupped to prove it. "That’s why I’m walking everywhere, you see. No drinking and driving for me." He paused. "Say, that’s a nice uniform, officer. You must get lotsa chicks."

Olivia closed her eyes and let out a groan of mortification. Why in the world was he sucking up to the cranky cop? He was only going land them both in jail.

When she finally opened her eyes, she found the officer scrutinizing her. She swallowed.

"Ma’am," he said stonily. Then his gaze roved disapprovingly down her outfit. "Are you aware this area has a high concentration of prostitution?"