Part 6 (2/2)

Then she realised what she was doing and dropped her hand abruptly. 'It suits you,' she said, covering for the heat that she felt flus.h.i.+ng her cheeks.

Charlie's scalp tingled where she'd touched it and his thoughts were temporarily scrambled.

'Warm in here, isn't it?' she muttered, winding the window down.

'Yes,' Charlie agreed, winding his window down also. There was a vibe between them that was hard to ignore. He could see the quickened rise and fall of her chest, the pull of the fabric across her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, her lips glistening in the pa.s.sing glow of the streetlights.

And in his mind's eye he could see her pulling the clasp out of her hair, discarding her gla.s.ses and him hauling her into his seat, onto his lap, ripping open that s.e.xy, silky s.h.i.+rt, the b.u.t.tons popping everywhere. He gripped the steering-wheel harder.

Thankfully the trip to her place was brief and she was content to stare out the window and not converse. He was excruciatingly conscious of her anyway, he didn't need her voice in his ear. He should have let her take a taxi. He switched the engine off. Just walk her to the door, Charlie, see her inside and turn around.

Carrie unclipped her seat belt and heard a chorus of alarm bells ringing in her head as Charlie also unclipped his and opened his door. She placed a stilling hand on his arm. 'You don't have to see me in.'

Her hand felt hot through the fabric of his s.h.i.+rt and he wondered how hot it would feel on other areas of his body. 'What about the burglar?'

She gave a half-laugh, hoping desperately to lighten the atmosphere. 'The gnome-napper? You're kidding, right?'

He looked at her building, at the lush tropical jungle that seemed to occupy every piece of land. Anyone could conceal themselves in the dense foliage. 'I'll see you in anyway.' He climbed out of the car and away from her hot little hand.

Carrie took a deep breath and exited the car also. She was ultra-conscious of him behind her for the short trip from the street through the gardens to her front door.

'Right, well, as you can see, no one lurking in the bushes. You can go now,' she said briskly digging around in her bag for her keys.

Charlie looked at her. She sounded like a schoolteacher dismissing a child. He remembered how intimate it had felt the last time he'd been standing at her front door, holding Dana.

'Aren't you going to invite me in for a nightcap?'

She stopped her search and looked at him. Was he mad? 'No.'

He chuckled. 'A coffee?'

Stark raving obviously. 'Coffee keeps me awake,' she said primly.

And she was seriously going to be able to sleep with this hum happening between them? He was going to lie awake, thinking of her straddled across him in his car, her blouse torn open. 'Breakfast?' He grinned.

Carrie felt her stomach lurch and heat flush her face, and was thankful for the night's dark shadows. She opened her mouth to issue a stinging retort and noticed the teasing look on his face. 'Are you trying to s.e.xually hara.s.s me, Charlie?'

He laughed. 'Is it working?'

Apparently. If the low-level buzz that was sensitising long-forgotten parts of her body was any indication. This was so not a conversation they should be having. She triumphantly pulled her keys out of her bag. 'Thanks for the lift. My bed's calling.'

Yes, it was. He could hear it loud and clear. He watched her shut her eyes briefly as she realised that she'd said something she shouldn't have. Her bed was out there now. 'Right.' He swallowed. 'I should go.'

Carrie looked into his eyes and nodded, trying to forget her gaffe. h.e.l.l. Why had she mentioned her bed? 'Yes,' she said.

Neither of them moved.

Put the key in the door and go inside. 'Thanks again...for the...lift,' she said. His intense stare made her trip and stumble over the words.

Turn around now and go back to the car. 'My pleasure,' he said, staring at her mouth beckoning him, bewitching him. How much pleasure could he find in those glistening, delectable lips?

Carrie didn't move a muscle. She couldn't-even her diaphragm was having trouble performing its usual function. She was conscious only of his eyes and the way he was looking at her mouth. Her breath was uneven and her heart fluttered madly.

He took a step closer to her. She felt suffocated by his nearness, by the intensity of his gaze, by the flare of hunger she could see in his grey eyes. Had anyone ever looked at her with such naked need? She took a step back. The door stopped her retreat.

An inner voice warned Charlie against the next step he took. But he was too far gone, too caught up in the pout of her mouth and the smell of her and the catch of her breath. 'Tell me to leave,' his husky voice requested.

'Leave,' she whispered, her whole body tingling in antic.i.p.ation, her gaze fixed on his mouth. His eyes were hooded now as his tall, broad frame blocked out the ambient light.

He shook his head. 'Mean it,' he whispered back.

CHAPTER FOUR.

THERE was a brief moment when meaning it was possible but it pa.s.sed and Carrie knew she wasn't strong enough to turn him away. The thought of his lips on hers, his hand on her body, his stubble grating erotically against her cheek was making a mockery of her self-control.

His head was moving closer to hers. All she needed to do was lean forward a little and their bodies would be in intimate contact. But only the slow pa.s.sage of his mouth registered to her severely dysfunctional brain.

Her eyes fluttered closed at the first touch of his lips on hers and then everything imploded. It was no gentle, explorative press of flesh. It was hot and hard and frantic. Bordering on desperate. Carrie felt the heat instantly. Everywhere. All the way through to her centre and back out again.

He was everywhere. His breadth surrounded her, overwhelmed her, demanding and achieving entry into her most prized possession-her personal s.p.a.ce. He pushed her harder and harder against the door, her back flattening against the wood as she pushed against him, inviting a deepening of the pa.s.sion raging between them.

She couldn't be pa.s.sive-his lips demanded her to be an active partic.i.p.ant. To thrust her tongue against his, to moan, to clutch the front of his s.h.i.+rt, to breathe hard like she'd run a marathon, to grind her hips into his. There was no time for thought or reflection, there was just feeling.

Like how good his mouth felt against hers, how her b.r.e.a.s.t.s ached to be touched, how hard he felt as he rocked his pelvis into her. And how long it had been since she'd done this. How ready she was. And how this kiss was never, ever going to be enough.

She wanted more. She wanted to see all of him. Touch all of him. Feel him deep inside her. There were no thoughts of tomorrow or Dana or her job. It had been four long years and his kisses were like sweet wine on parched lips. She couldn't think straight. Just feel. Just experience. Just drink up every drop.

She dragged her mouth away. 'Inside,' she croaked.

'Yes,' he said, his breath coming in harsh gulps. He whisked the keys out of her fingers and made short work of the barrier to her bed. h.e.l.l, he'd have kicked it in if it had been required.

He swept her off her feet and cut off her startled yelp with his mouth as he nudged the door shut with his foot. She kissed like a fallen angel, sweet and sinful, and he wondered if she made love like one, too. He had to have her-now.

'Which way?' he demanded in a rough voice. She pointed and he strode quickly towards the indicated room, kissing her roughly before throwing her on the bed.

Light from a streetlamp outside entered through the high window above the bed. She looked utterly gorgeous, lying there, thoroughly kissed, on the mattress. Her mouth was swollen and moist, tendrils of her auburn hair had escaped the clasp and her skirt had ridden up her thighs. He needed to see her naked. Quickly.

He lowered himself down, planting a knee between her legs, and felt himself harden further as her hips ground against it. He pushed his knee hard against her and smiled at the moan that escaped her lips. He grasped her shoulders and pulled her over with him.

And then his head hit a hard plastic object and it roared to life, throwing a kaleidoscope of colours around the room. 'Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star' blared out in a piercing electronic voice. The fact that her body was lying on top of his, pressing and rubbing in all the right places, was temporarily forgotten.

It was like a bucket of cold water. The bucket of cold water he needed. What the h.e.l.l are you doing? He moved abruptly out from underneath her, displacing her.

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