The Inconvenient Laws of Attraction. Trish Wylie
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fingers holding his shirt loosened and her palms flattened as if she couldn’t stop herself touching him.
Then her gaze lifted.
With her guard down, he was shown how truly expressive her eyes could be. Curiosity threaded with need, confusion tangled up in desire—and those were just the things he could recognise. Everything she was feeling danced in the light of a blue flame he was drawn to with the same compulsion he felt to draw air into his lungs. Did she have any idea what she was willing him to do when she looked at him like that? The effect it had on his body when she had her hands on him? He searched her eyes for a hint of power in the knowledge, feeling marginally better when he couldn’t find it. If she knew, he’d be in trouble.
As her palms slid across his chest and down his arms, he tensed, unable to stop the telltale sign from happening; it was almost as if part of him wanted her to know. Her gaze lowered as she felt it happen, hands sliding down to his elbows, her mesmerized expression suggesting she was watching what she was doing as if it was some kind of out-of-body experience.
Blake studied the soft sheen of hair against her forehead before lowering his chin and looking at her hands where they rested against the rolled up sleeves of his shirt. Such small, fine-boned hands, such a light touch, but he could feel the effect of it scorching into his veins, transforming his blood to the same consistency as lava: thick, heavy and fiery-hot.
Damn, they were going to be good together.
When their gazes lifted, she focused on his mouth.
‘Do it,’ he demanded in a huskier voice than he’d have preferred.
‘Do what?’ she asked in a thick voice.
‘Kiss me.’
She shook her head.
‘You’re thinking about it.’
‘No, I’m not,’ she lied.
Moving his fingertips in slow, soothing circles on her back, Blake silently willed her to forget whatever was holding her back. ‘If you spent less time trying to pretend this isn’t here we might get along better.’
‘I don’t want—’
‘Yes, you do.’ Raising a hand, he used the backs of his fingers to brush her hair off her cheek. ‘You’ve been thinking about the kiss that never happened.’ Just like he had. ‘Wondering what it would have felt like if it had …’
Why should he be the only one tortured by it?
Turning his hand, he traced his fingertips over her jaw to the sensitive skin below her ear. She leaned her head towards her shoulder in response, dutifully arching her neck to allow him access as her eyelids grew heavy. Her body couldn’t hide the truth any more than his could.
‘Don’t you want to find out, Liv?’ He dipped his head and saw the lift of her chin bring her mouth closer to his.
‘You’ll have to fire me first.’
‘I’m not going to fire you,’ he answered in the same husky-edged tone as before. ‘You’ll have to quit.’
‘I’m no quitter,’ she replied, an incredibly sensuous smile curling her lips.
‘Neither am I.’
When she breathed deep and exhaled on a hum of what sounded distinctly like pleasure, he stifled a groan. The slow slide of her lower lip between her teeth, the hooded gaze she had focused on his mouth—she was testing him, wasn’t she? If she was, it was a test he was failing.
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