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Playing With Fire excerpt
Posted by adminAn Excerpt From: PLAYING WITH FIRE
in WICKED WORDS 5 and WICKED WORDS 10 (THE BEST OF WICKED WORDS)
© Copyright KIMBERLY DEAN, 2001
Published by Black Lace Books
‘So you can’t do anything about your little stalker; do something about your fears.’
Erin finally took that step backwards. She didn’t know where the conversation was going, but it made her nervous. ‘How?’
Chris took another sip of his coffee, but his eyes never left hers. ‘How do you conquer any fear? If you’re afraid of flying, you get your ass on an airplane. If you’re afraid of heights, you go to the top of the nearest skyscraper.’
Erin’s cheeks turned pink, but he didn’t stop.
‘If you’re afraid of sex…’
Her blush went right up to the roots of her hair. She was mortified to be having this discussion with Chris of all people. Most of their previous conversations had centered on the weather. She couldn’t believe she was standing here, much less considering his idea.
Sexual therapy. Was that the way to ease her mind? The ideas in those letters had been haunting her for weeks. They filled her thoughts night and day. If she could somehow manage to associate pleasure with the kinky threats, would her terror go away? She chewed her lower lip as she thought about it. Finally, she shook her head. ‘I can’t. Mark wouldn’t go for it.’
He took another drink of his coffee, but his gaze pierced her to the core. ‘Who said anything about Mark?’
Erin’s heart stutter-stepped, but then exploded at a frantic pace. She took another step back, but butted up against the breakfast bar. ‘You?’
He set the coffee cup on the counter. ‘Why not?’
‘Because Mark is my boyfriend.’
Chris pushed himself away from the counter and trapped her. ‘This would have nothing to do with that.’
‘I… I can’t.’
‘You can. I know you’ve thought about it.’
The blood rushed out of her face. ‘You self-centered bastard.’
‘I’ve seen you looking at me.’
She couldn’t deny it. He wasn’t the type of man she was normally drawn to, but there was something about him. Mark was more the dark, handsome type. Chris? Chris had closely cropped strawberry blonde hair, and blue eyes that made her nipples harden every time he glanced her way. And his body. He was built like a brick house. As a fireman, he worked out regularly. The results were enough to make her mouth water. Anytime he took his shirt off, she couldn’t stop looking at him.
‘You know I want to fuck you.’
Her toes curled in her shoes. ‘I won’t let you.’
‘Fine. Walk around like a scared little girl. See if I care.’
Instead of moving back, though, he leaned forward and braced his hands on the bar on either side of her. Erin felt overwhelmed by his presence. He was much taller than she was and probably twice as wide. She felt dominated, and the twinge between her legs shocked her.
‘Mark would be crushed,’ she whispered.
‘It would be our dirty little secret.’
‘Do you really think it would work?’
‘Take off that suit, and we’ll find out.’
The order stunned her. Tilting her head back, she looked at him. He was dead serious. He was waiting, though, for her consent. Her breaths shortened as she considered what would happen if she said ‘yes’. She couldn’t think, though. Her pulse was pounding too frantically. She stared at him with fascination and saw the pulse thudding in his neck, too.
His suggestion was too bizarre. She shouldn’t even be considering it.
‘I don’t know…’
‘Take off the damn suit.’
Erin’s womb clenched. She didn’t know why she did it, but she reached for the top button. Chris didn’t move, but his gaze focused on her actions. His rapt attention made her hands begin to shake. She was taking off her clothes for a man she hardly knew. By the time she got her jacket off, her pulse was pounding at twice its normal speed.
His gaze took in her lacy black bra. ‘Now the skirt.’
Her arousal pulsed between her legs. She couldn’t understand why, but she reached for the back zip. His gaze nearly singed her breasts. The position had thrust them forward until they nearly brushed against his chest. He was looking straight down into her cleavage.
The rasp of the zipper was uncommonly loud. Erin felt like a wanton as she swirled her hips and let the skirt slide to the floor. She still wore her bra, her panties, and her practical journalist shoes, but she’d never felt so naked.
‘Now, tell me,’ he ordered in a voice that had dropped even lower. ‘What does your stalker want to do to you that scares you so much?’
Her stomach clenched. ‘I can’t…’
‘Tell me.’