“This girl doesn’t give them unless she sees something really special.”

Gabriel looked affronted as they headed out. “You sayin’ I’m no’ sometin’ special, chere? You don’ like my tricks so far?”

Jessica suppressed a laugh and walked along the building shaded street. The wind flirted in her hair and skirt, flashing a length of thigh. She caught him staring, and a little thrill shot through her. She grinned, feeling unaccustomedly saucy. “You remind me a little of Pepe Le Pew.”

He choked. “I stink?”

Jessica burst out in laughter. “No. You smell really good, actually--maybe too good.” And maybe she shouldn’t have admitted that. “No, I feel a little like the poor cat is all.”

He grinned, moving closer. “Hunted? Loved?” He caught her hand. “You wan’ me to kiss you all over and whisper French into your ear?” His kissed up her arm to her neck, making noisy smacking sounds.

Jessica screamed and giggled, and pulled her arm free before running down the street. He chased after her, ignoring the strange looks others cast their way. He caught her before she could elude him, took them into the shelter of a doorway.

Jessica felt breathless from her run and looked around, saw that they were virtually alone, and the shop was abandoned. He had a knack for finding cozy, lonely spots.

She glanced up at him to see him grinning down at her.

He leaned back on the opposite side, keeping some space between them.

“You gonna start callin’ me Pepe now?”

Jessica chuckled. “It crossed my mind. I’m mean, aren’t I?”

“Maybe a liddle. I like a mean woman though.”

“Hey! You’re not supposed to agree with me.” She mock kicked his shin.

He rubbed his leg with his opposite foot. “Ow. You know how to kill d’romance, chere. I don’ mind a liddle beatin’ now and den, but dis? Aren’ you s’posed to tie me up first before you have your wicked way wid me?”

Gabriel really knew how to implant a mental picture. Just imaging him naked, tied, and spread-eagled on a bed gave her hot flashes. “Uh. I’m not into that. And you, you’re changing the subject. Admit it. Don’t you think you come on too strong?”

Truth be told, it wasn’t him that was the problem, it was her. He was perfect. She just wasn’t used to a hot pursuit, particularly not from a man she actually wanted.

He shrugged. “I got to work fast. No time to take it slow.” He gave her a sultry grin.

“Besides, it’s workin’, ain’t it?”

She had no idea what he meant by that statement, but that smile said enough. She wasn’t going to admit just how much he tempted her to do all the wicked things she shouldn’t be doing. “No. As a matter of fact, you’re really just wasting your time.”

The look on his face said he didn’t believe her. “Why do you fight so hard, petite?

Why can’ you jus’ feel?”

Jessica’s humor vanished. She was forcibly reminded of past mistakes, of letting people get too close. Her self-esteem was bad about getting beaten, but she preferred to think of herself as a realist. Beautiful people stuck with other beautiful people, and she most definitely wasn’t in their class. “I’m afraid I’ll get addicted,”

she admitted, slanting him a look. “Guys like you don’t stick around, especially not with girls like me.”

“You sell yourself short,” he said softly.

Jessica shrugged. She wasn’t when it was the truth. “It’s better than getting hurt.”

“Livin’ in a shell ain’t really livin’ at all”

Hadn’t she heard that over and over again? She shrugged again, trying to be nonchalant. “I’m used to it. I like not feeling anything, especially with men. I like my life simple and uncomplicated. Love is so messy.”

“Some say it’s no’ good if it ain’t dirty and sticky.”

“Yeah, well, not me. I’m a clean freak. And I like freedom.”

As she talked, she sensed a growing tension in Gabriel, like some dark cloud building for a storm. She didn’t know what she’d said to piss him off, but she was definitely getting that vibe from him. Unfortunately, she couldn’t think of a way to dig herself out of her hole without really knowing what she’d done--only dug in deeper with her rambling. Finally, she dared to look up at him and saw his face had gone hard, his eyes cold and angry.

He stared at her a long, drawn moment, knotting her stomach with nervousness at his continued silence. It seemed he’d listened to every word she’d said--and he hadn

’t liked a one of them. “When I kiss you, you don’ feel nothin’?”

She swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat. “No,” she lied.

He was on her before she could blink, trapping her with an arm on either side of her head, his face inches from her own. Energy seemed to vibrate from him, forcing her still, forcing her insides to react. She could feel the heat of his breath on her face, felt enveloped by his subtle, masculine scent. Every nerve ending reached out to him, reached to feel his body press tightly against her. He didn’t close the distance, didn’t meld to her. Somehow, that near touching had her reacting more than if he’d been right up against her.

His voice low, husky, and full of promise, he said, “If I kiss you like dis, your breath don’ catch?”

He settled his mouth over hers before she could stop him. Soft, coaxing, he pulled at her lips in a hungry, nibbling kiss that had her muscles quivering in response.

Jessica moaned softly, her mouth parting, willing his tongue to play with hers. He refused to oblige, teased her maddeningly, licking and sucking at her lips, keeping her hovering on the edge of anticipation. She couldn’t ever remember wanting to be invaded so badly in all her life, and he wouldn’t give her anything.

He retreated from her after a moment, a lazy, satisfied smile curling his lips, as if she’d reacted exactly the way he’d wanted her to. She wanted to growl in frustration, reach up and force his head back down.

A small gasp escaped her throat as he brought a hand down from the wall, trailed his fingers through her hair and over her shoulder, brushing against the side of one breast. “If I touch you here, your heart don’ race?”

It did. Without even touching her, he made her heart gallop. A look, a smile, the way he walked--it was like some dream come true that he could be interested in her.

Blood roared in her ears from the heavy pace. The only sound she could hear above it was his velvet drawl tormenting her with soft words and husky breath.

A thumb grazed over the soft peak of her nipple. She gasped at the faint touch, her pulse quickening, her nipple hardening as he moved in a slow, taunting circle. She tried to brace herself against the sensation, failed miserably. Her breast begged for more. She bit her lip to keep from asking him to touch her. He sensed her struggle, smiled, closed his hand over her breast. A piercing stab of pleasure arced through her as he massaged her with a possessive hand, as though he had every right to bend her to his will and make her want him.

His lips brushed against her earlobe, so soft, so teasing. He freed her breast, and she felt like crying out as he flattened his hand beneath it and moved a steady trail down her stomach, over her hips. His lips played with her lobe, sucking at it, tugging the flesh with his teeth as his fingers skated up and down her hips.

Jessica’s hands clenched with the effort not to reach for him and tear the jeans off his body so he could take her right there. She wanted to hold onto something, but if she moved, she’d break down--nothing would be left. She felt distracted, touched everywhere. She closed her eyes, tried to focus ... and it intensified the riotous feelings a hundred-fold. When his hand slipped up under her skirt, she hardly noticed, only felt that callused palm on her thighs, so deliciously rough, making her feel so sensitive. He teased the edges of her panties, and she trembled with excitement and trepidation.

No, this wasn’t what she wanted. But deep inside, she did. She wanted to open her thighs to him, but a voice of self-preservation nagged like an annoying gnat. Her legs closed against his hand, but he was insistent, moving inexorably toward her moist folds. The fine hairs on her thighs prickled with unfamiliar sensation.

“And here....” he whispered hot against her ear, arousingly invasive.

His fingers pushed past the flimsy barrier of her panties, delved into the top of her slit in one bold move, rubbing sensuously, achingly close to her clit. Jessica’s eyes flew open with shock. She found him watching her, lust in his smoky eyes. A rush of raw heat flushed her body. She pushed at his chest, pulled at his arm, squirming and unable to get away.

“You’re wet for me, petite,” he said, his voice tight and hoarse. “Dere is no denyin’ it.” His muscles strained against her. His arm felt hard against her belly, his fingers foreign. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

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