Tuesday Teaser 2/18/14: Wolf’s Lady part 7
What do you think should happen next? Should Amanda spend the night with Sand or should she make him suffer a little first?
His hands weren’t hurting her, not quite, but they were tight around her arms. “Let me go, please.”
He shook his head slowly, sending all that long shiny hair gliding over his shoulders. “No. I want to kiss you.”
This she knew how to deal with. She feathered her fingers down his cheeks, to stroke through the black waterfall of hair streaming over his shoulders. It was like the most expensive raw silk, textured but sleek under her fingers. “Not tonight, but Saturday is all yours, handsome,” she promised in a whisper.
“Saturday is too far away. Tonight,” he corrected her hoarsely. “I’ve cancelled all your appointments for tonight.”
He pushed her against the wall and leaned his weight into her. His body pressed deliciously against the place that burned for him. “Sand,” she gasped, sounding ridiculously like a virgin. “I don’t think—”
Then his lips smothered her words, turning her voice to a moan, and for a moment she forgot what she didn’t think. It was a long hot minute of dueling tongues before she managed to draw her mouth from his.
God, he was gorgeous. Amanda couldn’t look at him as sternly as she’d planned. “I don’t think you have the right to do that.” She tried for a kind smile while she wedged her hands against his chest to try to lever a little distance between their bodies. He didn’t move, not a millimeter. “Sand, step back.”
“No.” He pressed his nose to her throat and inhaled deeply. “You smell like heaven. Your scent is sweet and fresh, not choking like some.”
By the end of the night she wouldn’t smell fresh, she reflected ironically. His breath was warm on her throat. The tongue he used to caress her pulse was hot and wet, like the place between her legs. Maybe she could re-schedule her appointments for Saturday night. She didn’t want to, not really. She’d been looking forward to having Saturday night off for weeks so she could go to the concert at the CLC.
Amanda wavered until Sand pulled two inches away, just enough to brush the edge of her robe open. She missed the warmth of his body, but his eyes warmed her nicely as they examined her. The flimsy cotton nightgown hid nothing. His face showed curiosity, and the curiosity turned to something like reverence. His hand was inconceivably gentle when he brushed his fingertips over cotton covering her nipple.
He cut her off, in a tone so raw it made her shiver. “Will you deny me?”
“No.” She wouldn’t. She couldn’t. She’d had perhaps a hundred different men in her bed, and none of them had ever looked at her with such an expression, as if she were infinitely wondrous, utterly precious. “Would you like to go to the Red Rockers concert with me on Saturday?”
“I’ll go anywhere with you,” he murmured.
He dipped his mouth to her collarbone, but she lifted his face to her with a hand under his chin. “Then I need to keep my appointments tonight so I can have Saturday off.”
The sweet expression on his face froze into wrath. “No more appointments,” he snarled. “Never again. You said you wouldn’t deny me.”
Amanda jerked her robe closed and pulled the sash tight. “I’m not denying you,” she pointed out reasonably. “Other men made appointments for tonight. “I’m booked three weeks out, so they’ve been waiting. It’s not fair to cancel on them at the last minute.”
“No!” he howled. “No man comes before me. You are mine!”
Disbelief dropped her jaw. “Excuse me?”
“I saw you today on the street. I’ve known since that moment that you were mine.”
Amanda exhaled a breath. What a pity. Sand was so handsome, and so damn stupid. “I don’t belong to you, Sand.” She extended a pointing finger to the door. “Get out.”