Irresistible Stranger by Jennifer Greene

never considered doing with anyone else.”
    Talk about a way to melt a girl. Griff’s Secret, she thought, wasn’t just an ice-cream flavor. It wasthis ingredient in him, a secret, insidious factor, that annihilated defenses and seduced a heart without half-trying. She turned in his arms, well aware they were suddenly breast to chest, tummy to tummy, danger zone teasingly rubbing against danger zone.
    â€œHey,” she murmured worriedly. “Where’s that kind of talk coming from?”
    â€œI don’t know,” he admitted. “But you’re scaring me. I barely know you.”
    â€œThat’s supposed to be my line. I’m the girl, remember? I’m the one at risk if I fall in love with a guy who’s reported to have no settle-down or responsible genes in his entire DNA.”
    â€œThat’s me,” he admitted. “If I were you, I wouldn’t get involved with me either. I’ve never had a committed relationship in my life. Never bought a ring or shopped for one. Never had the energy or ambition to.”
    Oh, for Pete’s sake. He’d been selling that snake oil since she met him. Being only a pinch away made it easy enough to…well, to shut him up. It was as simple as laying her lips against his.
    On his.
    With his.
    Yearning shot through her bloodstream like a silky streak of surprise, crazy strong, achey wild. He tasted so good. He tasted like everything she’d been forbidden, everything she’d secretly dreamed of.
    His tongue dove inside her mouth, combined tastes and textures, at the same time his knee eased betweenher legs. His hands swept her body—up, down, roaming, igniting the slope of her spine, her fanny, back up…
    She twisted in his arms, not kissing him back—more—feeling inhaled. Taken in. Taken under. She’d liked kissing him before. She’d liked his touch. She’d liked that electric sensation of risk and desire, the rush of need and want. But this was different.
    Recklessness. She’d never tasted it before. Heat. She’d never suffered from it before, not like this. She’d been afraid of fire her entire life—but somehow not with him.
    Not this kind of fire.
    She opened her eyes, saw his—dark, intent now, not playing. He looked at her as if she was the only woman he’d ever wanted, the only woman he’d ever needed. The hunger in his touch, his eyes, his mouth, was more than sexual. It was about loneliness. Gut loneliness. The kind where you knew there was no one else who could accept you, all of you, who could know you, all the way inside, and still want to be there.
    She didn’t do fantasies like that. Ever.
    But with him… Her breath caught when his palm found her breast, cupped, then squeezed. Her hand slid down his side, down his bare hip, knuckled inside, to cup where he was hard and hot. She squeezed.
    â€œOkay,” he hissed. “You’re in real trouble now.”
    His head disappeared under the covers. She didn’t quite remember when she’d lost her shirt, but her bra was still on, all a tangle, straps around her arms, cups pushed away. He got rid of it altogether, started sampling slopesand valleys of skin, found freckles between her breasts, found each nipple, analyzed each thoroughly with his tongue—until she was gasping for breath, and her legs reflexively clenching. He roamed down her tummy, found her navel and appendix scar….
    â€œHey,” she whispered. “Maybe…hold on there. Just for a second. Maybe…wait. Maybe I need to think about this.”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œNo? Huh? You can’t say no. If you vote no, we stop. If I vote no, we stop. Those are the rules.”
    â€œNow, Lily, trust me. I know the rules. Come on, though. Give me a chance to be a hero. I’m in the striving class. Don’t know what I’m doing. You could help me learn. You could give me an achievement badge if I’m