There was a whisper--a familiar one--of cotton against flesh.
Turning his head slightly, he watched something black and
soft fall to the floor.
His T-shirt.
His heart jumped into his throat, lodged there for about
five seconds and made it impossible to breathe. Then it settled back in his
chest, beating about two hundred beats a minute, he figured as he shut the
dishwasher, still staring at the puddle of black cotton on the floor in front
of him.
His palms were sweating as he lifted his head and stared at
Sylvia, standing eighteen inches away, wearing nothing more than her damp hair
and that devilish, cocky little smile.
"I don't get seduced," she said quietly. "I might decide to
seduce somebody, or I might just decide to have wild and crazy sex with them. But
I don't get seduced."
She closed the distance between them and reached out,
trailed her fingers along the front of his shirt. "You still want to go for a
run, Toronto?"
He couldn't speak. For the life of him, he couldn't say a
damn word.
So instead, he gathered that dark, silky hair in one hand
and slanted his mouth over hers. As she met his kiss, he wrapped his free arm
around her waist and hauled her against him. Naked, her skin still warm from
the bath, she fit him perfectly, those amazing curves aligning next to his body
like she'd been made for him.
He growled against her lips as she rocked against him.
"I thought you said no grabby hands," he muttered against
her mouth.
"I wasn't being completely honest . . . I
planned to do plenty of grabbing. I just wanted to do it my way." She pulled
back a fraction, staring into his eyes, clear challenge written on her face. "Is
that a problem?"
She was in his arms, naked. "Hell, no."
"Good." A pleased smile curled her lips as she stroked her
hands along his waist, then dipped them under his shirt, pushing it up as she
went until she could strip it away completely.
As it fell to the floor by the other one, she eased back,
staring into his eyes for a long moment before lowering her gaze. Toronto held still as she
lifted her hands and curved them over his shoulders, stroking down, her fingers
learning the planes and ridges of his body. When she reached the small ring piercing
his left nipple, she paused. Lifting a brow, she touched it, tugging it
lightly. "Silver, Toronto?"
He shrugged. "I got bored one night."
"So you pierced yourself with silver. You trying to poison
yourself?" She continued to toy with it, her skeptical gaze lingering on his
face.
"I'm too strong for that little bit to poison me." He
grinned at her, trying not to react while she played with the ring. It shouldn't
feel that damn good, he knew it. But while he was too strong for the ring to
poison him, that bit of silver piercing his flesh did make him damn sensitive
there and it was almost painfully erotic to have her tugging on it like that.
"So you did this because you were bored?" A wicked grin
curved her lips. "You get bored a lot? What else did you pierce?"
Her gaze dropped low and a visceral, blistering punch of
heat raced through him even as he instinctively winced. "Not there, sweetheart."
