Slow Burn by K. Bromberg Page B

going to give me?” He chuckles as he takes the final step to close the distance, reaching up to raise his sunglasses to the top of his head. His aqua eyes blink from the sun for a moment before finding mine at the same time my breasts brush against the firmness of his chest.
    And damn
. What was I going to say? I can’t remember because I feel his breath feather over my lips, and a chill breaks out over my skin despite the warm weather.
“Yep?”
he taunts again, drawing the word out in a long breath, and for a minute, I’m relieved to know that he is just as affected as I am.
    “Mm-hmm.” It’s all I can manage, desire increasing with each passing second.
    “And they are?” he prompts as he leans in closer, our connection even stronger now.
    “Lots of them,” I say in a whoosh of air, my mind not comprehending my lack of wit because everything I am concentrating on seems to be centered around the apex of my thighs. Ache. Need. Desire.
    He does that closemouthed laugh again. “I dare you to name one right now.” His breath feathers over my lips, the warmth of it a tantalizing taunt to my unsated need. I know he asked me a question, but hell if my synapses are firingefficiently right now. Thoughts of that mouth of his on me, tasting me, obliterate all coherent thoughts. He leans in closer, my breath unsteady now and my eyes drifting closed in anticipation of his kiss.
    A kiss I don’t want.
    Do want.
    Just give it to me, Becks.
    “Do you want something, Had?” he murmurs, his lips so close, I can feel their movement as he talks.
    Every nerve in my body is attuned to him: his body pressed against mine, his scent, his energy. I give my second “Mm-hmm” in a matter of minutes and mentally chastise myself, tell myself to quit being so pathetic. Guys have always been a dime a dozen to me … so why does Becks seem like that million-dollar check I can’t wait to cash?
    “Gonna have to do better than that in order to get what you want.” His taunting tone calls to me, breaks through my mental haze, and ignites the desire that’s already smoldering.
    “No strings,” I whisper, hoping that now that I’ve said it, I can get a taste of him—get what I want—but the minute I say it, the heat of his body is gone. My eyes flash open, lips fall apart.
What the …?
    “Nice try, City, but I’m already well aware of that rule,” Becks says as he lowers his sunglasses back down over his eyes with one hand while the other places my phone in my hand. He takes a few steps away from me, smirk still owning his mouth, but I can see his arousal as crystal clear as the sky above me. And hell if he hasn’t flipped me on like a fucking switch and is leaving me high and dry without giving me the electricity needed to light me up.
    I go to say his name, mouth opening and closing a few times before I just give up and shut it.
    We stare at each other a moment longer, my sexual frustration obvious and his point made with a victorious grin before he nods at me. “Good luck with your client tonight,”he says, and then disappears around the driver’s side of the car. I step over to the back of my car as I hear his engine rev before he pulls forward through the open spot in front of him and leaves.
    And I stand there for a moment longer, my body amped up on adrenaline and my desire for him a mixture of necessity and damnation.
    Well played, Daniels. Well played.
    Hell, if strings aren’t looking pretty damn appealing right now. I want to tie him up, get my fill of him, and then leave him bound up with need like he just did to me.

Chapter 9
BECKETT
    I let the hot water sluice down my back as I soap up and clean the ocean’s salt from my skin. The wave sets were pretty damn impressive this morning. Nothing like the ones I learned from at the beaches up in Santa Cruz, but decent nonetheless. Add to that the forty minutes I put into running on the beach’s waterline after surfing, and I’m a happy man.
    Well, I’d be helluva