Unbreakable by Alison Kent Page B

should belong to someone else—even as he told himself he deserved every bit of what the woman beside him was ready to give up. Faith Mitchell. His for the night. No matter what she thought of him.
    Tonight was about the slope of her neck to her shoulder, and the way her whole body shuddered when he kissed his way from her ear to her collarbone, then made his way lower to the rise of her tits that were lifting and falling with her efforts to breathe.
    He tugged one nipple into his mouth. She gasped, and he bit down. She gasped again, and he leaned to the side, sliding the heel of his palm to the bone above her clit and pushing againstit. This time her gasp became a groan, and her fight became less about breathing than about what he sensed was going on in her head.
    “What do you want, Faith? From me. What do you want?”
    “What you’re doing. More of it. All of it. Everything.”
    He liked having a door thrown wide, but needed her to be aware of what she was saying. “Are you sure? Because I’ve had a lot of years to think about what I want to do to you. I don’t know if you’re ready to go everywhere I am.”
    She opened her eyes, met his gaze, wet her lips. “You think I’m sheltered, don’t you? Because of the way I grew up. Because I haven’t gone through the things you have. You think I have no experience at…this.”
    “This? You mean fucking?” Because if she couldn’t even say it…
    “Yes. Fucking. Is that better?”
    “I tell you what would be better.” He scooted up her body, hooked a leg around hers, and rolled to his back, taking her with him, ending up with her straddling his hips as planned. “This is better.”
    “Why?” was her only response. She just sat there, balancing, as if afraid to move more than the muscles it took to do that.
    “Why?” he echoed, lifting his knees, a chair at her back, and moving his hands to her thighs where they created a vee on either side of his thick, jutting cock. “Well, from here I can see all the best parts of you at the same time.”
    Her shoulders had been hunched forward as if to hide her bare breasts, but the motion only served to plump them together, and when she hid her chest behind crossed arms, he tucked his beneath his head and sighed.
    “This isn’t going to be any good if you go into hiding.”
    She stared at him a long, hot moment, then flung her arms tothe side before reaching for her hair and twisting it up against the back of her head. “Is this better? Is this what you want?”
    “I want you to have fun. I don’t want you to be nervous.” He was surprised after the kitchen she would be.
    “I’m not nervous. Not about the sex.”
    “About what then?”
    “Everything that goes with it.”
    Did she mean all the emotional baggage he’d managed to keep out of his sexual encounters? “Like?”
    “What happens tomorrow?”
    “More sex?”
    She hesitated, chewed at the corner of her lip, then, “And nothing else?”
    Fuck. “Do you want there to be something else?”
    “No, but I don’t want things to get awkward.”
    He was beginning to regret the question. “Awkward how?”
    She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, opening them once she’d found what looked like courage. “I don’t want you thinking I’ll plead your case at the bank because of this.”
    The thought hadn’t crossed his mind. The fact it had crossed hers had him feeling mean. “Then this was a big, fat waste of time, wasn’t it?”
    Her eyes went wide like a newborn calf’s. “Are you kidding me?”
    Jesus H. Christ. “Give me some credit here, Faith. I haven’t thought about money once since you climbed up there and started struttin’ your stuff. But now that you mention it…”
    She slapped at his hand as he reached for her tit. “Stop it.”
    “Stop touching you?”
    “No. Stop making light of something that’s serious.”
    “I’m always serious about sex.”
    “I’m not talking about sex.” She gathered her thoughts,blowing out