Asking for Trouble (Line of Duty #4)(6)



“What’s wrong? Is this lesson you’re attempting to teach me over before it even began?” Patronizing laughter rumbled in his big chest. His hips pressed closer and she could feel his thick arousal. “Too bad. I thought I was finally going to solve the mystery tonight.”

“What mystery is that?” she asked against her better judgment.

“I’ve been wondering what it’ll take to wipe that self-satisfied expression off your face.” He bent down, let his mouth hover an inch above hers. “What gets you off, rich girl? Besides a shoe sale.”

with their bodies molded together, she ached for something she couldn’t name, his words burrowed even further under her skin. He found her vapid. Trivial. He thought she took her wealth for granted, when in reality, she spent every day of her life trying to deserve it. Prove herself worthy. And oftentimes…coming up short. He didn’t think she had the ability to feel anything? The need to prove him wrong, right then and there, shook Hayden to the soles of her feet. Her purse hit the floor with a thud.

She pushed higher on her toes, fusing her mouth to his. Brent’s body jerked, making her feel exultant. She’d caught him off guard. Her fingers wove their way through his hair and tugged hard to bring him closer. They nipped at each other’s lips, testing, seeking. He grazed her jaw with his teeth before returning to her mouth to taste her with thorough licks of his tongue, spiking heat through Hayden. Her hands dropped to his waist and urged him forward, wordlessly begging him to rub his erection against her belly. When he did so, once, twice, they both broke away on a groan. For a single second, they locked eyes, as if to say oh shit. Involuntarily, her attention dropped to his arousal, heavy and insistent between them.

Brent kept his gaze on her face as he worked himself against her. “I’ll let you ride it, duchess. And I’m going to keep your tongue busy in my mouth the whole time.” With one hand, he stripped his shirt off over his head, revealing his massive chest and rock-hard muscles. “That ought to keep the sarcasm at bay for a couple hours.”

Hayden shoved against him, but he didn’t budge. “What’s going to keep your ego at bay?” she asked through clenched teeth. “One more crack like that and you can go home to your bachelor pad and self-satisfy until the sun comes—”

He claimed her mouth once again on a growl. A single forearm curled under her bottom and lifted with so little effort, her thoughts went fuzzy, blurring her indignation into nothingness. His mouth moved, rough and demanding over hers, forcing her lips wide to receive rhythmic thrusts from his tongue. Hayden could only twine her arms around his neck and hold on as white-hot need poured through her in waves. She made a sound of protest in his mouth when she couldn’t get her lower body close enough. A throb drummed between her thighs and she ached to feel pressure there. When she communicated her desire for friction with a twist of her hips, he tried to wedge his hips between her thighs, but the tight material of her skirt wouldn’t allow it.

“Take it off, Hayden, or I rip it off.”

Brent’s rasped command at her neck brought her back down to earth. Just a little. If she took off her skirt, he would take her against the door. Wham-bam, Grand Theft Auto, ma’am. He’d whistle his way out the door, knowing exactly who had handled whom. Next time she saw him, he’d give her one of his signature winks and tell her to call him next time she needed a ride. She couldn’t let that happen. She’d instigated this for a reason. To show him how little he actually knew about her. To put a dent in his overblown ego. She needed to get the upper hand back. Now.

Hayden broke their kiss, let the corners of her lips edge into a sensual smile. “I think it’s about time we broke out those handcuffs.”

Brent’s hands moved down her back to mold her bottom with rough palms. “Patience, duchess. I haven’t gotten my fill of touching you yet.” He boosted her higher against the door. “Before I let you restrain me, I’m going to make damn sure you’re too revved up to stop.”

His mouth seized hers once more. This time, she could feel more urgency behind the kiss, reflected in the rigid lines of his body. It only drove her need higher. Clinging to his shoulders, she let his frenzied mouth slant over hers several times. She broke away with a moan, her resolve slipping drastically under the onslaught of sensations. If she could just get the handcuffs on him, she could stop him from overwhelming her.

“You’re right,” she whispered. “We should have some fun first.” She dropped to her knees. Let her hands wander up those muscular thighs.

Above her, Brent’s breathing deepened, kicked up into a faster pace. “Only for a little while. Then I find out what’s beneath that skirt.”

With a dutiful nod, she unbuttoned his fly. Even nuzzled her cheek against his rigid erection and smiled when he sucked in a quick breath. He laced his fingers through her hair and tilted his hips toward her mouth. “Uh-uh,” she admonished. “No touching.”

“Sure, baby.” He put his hands behind his back and closed his eyes. “If that’s the way you like it.”

As soon as his hands crossed behind him, she carefully slipped the handcuffs from her purse and slapped them onto his wrists. Hearing his low curse, she gained her feet, taking a moment to savor the sight of him, all that commanding power harnessed. By her. “Looks like somebody just got handled.”

Tessa Bailey's Books