Page 18 of The Last Kiss

Who am I? Where is Julianna Brown?

All I know is that I want this. Whatever this is. I know in my gut this is my antidote to my really bad day. He’s the antidote to heartbreak, no not even heartbreak, life break.

He turns, gaze on my face, dropping to my mouth, making the taste of his kiss flood back onto my tastebuds. Taking my glass, he leans across and places it on the occasional table by the side of the sofa. Shifting his weight, he slowly moves back, nose skimming my cheek. I breathe in the scent of icy air, wood smoke, and brandy.

“So sad, ma petite.” His lips glance mine. A brief sweep, challenging me to back out, asking me if I want to retract my statement, take back my unspoken question.

I don’t.

I push my lips against his, the warmth of them, the perfect pressure making me shiver.

“No names,” I whisper into his mouth.

“No names.” Every time he speaks, turning every vowel and consonant into something exotic, I could disintegrate into a thousand pieces.

“One night.” I pull back, holding my gaze firm on his face.

No one can blame this girl. I’m in shock. Just lived through bad news. No one would judge me for this.

I’m a good girl really. Ask Barney, he’s my living proof.

All I know is I don’t want to go home.

My hands grip the white cotton of his shirt sleeves, sliding over all the things he has hidden beneath. I know it’s going to break me apart.

“One night,” he confirms, nodding. The deal is done.

Which it is. Done. Signed. Posted in an envelope to my treacherous desire.

Leaning forward, he licks the seam of my mouth and I gasp sharply. “How many steps to your room?” I ask against his lips.

Pulling back, he glances over my shoulder, gaze narrowing. “Non. I’ll carry you, ma petite fleur.”

Unlocking me from where I’ve almost crawled into his lap, he lunges forward, lifting me with him, long powerful arms catching me up with ease. Laughing, I clasp my little legs around his tall frame.

A midnight gaze flashes over me with dirty promises of how he’s going to end me and then start me all over again and my laughter dies on my lips as I stare back.

A small whimper escapes me as he strides through the lounge area and to the lift, jabbing his finger on the call button.

Maybe now’s the time to point out I’ve never had sex in a lift either.

5

Things that go Bump

My legs cinch around his waist, tongue teasing into his mouth, hands in the dark strands of his hair. I think there’s a mirror behind me with my arse in a skirt pressed against it. Don’t care.

I sigh a little, daring him to kiss me harder, push into me further. His fingers squeeze my thighs hard and my sigh morphs into a groan. This man, with the hands.

The elevator door pings, and he steps us through, our kiss still a spun dream far from breaking. My fingers work the buttons on his shirt.

No idea who this wanton woman is but I’m loving her style.

He breaks the kiss and I’m close to crying, but his mouth falls to my neck, sucking gently on the skin at the hollow of my collarbone as he balances me against the wall and fishes a key card out of the back of suit trousers.

Those trousers are going to be seeing the floor any moment now.

Any. Bloody. Moment.