Swept Away By The Seductive Stranger. Amy Andrews
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like we’re off.’
‘Yes,’ Felicity said, as she half turned to find the darkened station platform appearing to slowly move.
When she turned back he was staring at her with heat in his eyes. They’d been flirty earlier but now they were just plain frank. His gaze dropped to her mouth as he took a step towards her. Her breath hitched. The atmosphere thickened and pulsed with promise.
She’d resigned herself to this not happening but suddenly it was on again.
‘So...’ She swallowed to moisten her suddenly parched throat as he loomed big and broad and close enough to reach out and touch. ‘Not a technical writer, huh?’
He cocked an eyebrow. ‘Not a public servant?’
She shrugged. ‘I didn’t want to be regaled with a dozen different medical stories or be canonised as some kind of saint.’
‘You’re forgetting about the lectures on the state of the health-care system.’
She laughed. ‘Those too.’
Felicity supposed she should ask him more about his medical background but right now she didn’t care. Not with her pulse fluttering madly at her temple and warmth suffusing her belly. ‘You were great out there.’
‘So were you.’
‘Not quite what I expected would happen tonight.’
He smiled. ‘Me neither.’ And then, ‘Are you...okay? It was kind of intense. The adrenaline was flowing.’
‘Sure, steady as a rock.’ Felicity held up a hand horizontally. It betrayed her completely by trembling.
‘So I see.’
Felicity glanced from it to him, conscious of the sway of the train. Conscious that she was far away from Vickers Hill.
It emboldened her.
‘That’s not from the accident.’
Her hand was trembling for reasons that were far more primal.
He regarded her for long moments before turning slightly and reaching for the door behind him to shut it. He turned the lock with a resounding click, the noise slithering with wicked intent to all her secret places.
They were truly alone now.
Darkness pressed in on her, the only light entering from the strip at the bottom of the door and the moonlight pushing in through the window. It was enough to allow her eyes to adjust quickly.
Enough to see Callum.
He turned to face her, stepped closer, so close his breath warmed her forehead. He reached for her hand, which had fallen by her side. ‘Maybe you just need to...’ he slid her hand onto his chest, flattening it over his heart, his big hand holding hers in place ‘...grab hold of something solid?’
Felicity dropped her gaze to their joined hands. Each thud of his heart reverberated through her palm, scattering awareness to every cell of her body. She’d never had a one-night stand or done anything so spontaneous. But on a night when she’d been reminded how precarious life could be she needed it.
She needed this. She needed him.
The clickety-clack of the wheels on the track faded. ‘Maybe I do,’ she murmured, the scent from his citrusy cologne filling her senses until she was dizzy with wanting him.
Like a slice of lime after a shot of tequila.
His kiss, when it came, was gentle. So gentle it almost made her cry. It was long and slow and sweet. It was everything she hadn’t known she needed in this moment.
Earlier, if she’d been asked how this would go down, she would have said fast and furious. But this was infinitely better. Burning slow and bright, building in increments that piled on top of the next, making her yearn and ache and want even as it soothed and sated.
His hands slid around her waist. Her arms snaked around his neck. He drew her closer. She lifted up onto tiptoe.
Their hearts thundered together.
When he finally pulled away, they were both breathing hard. His eyes roved over her face, glittering with the kind of fever that also burned in her. What was he looking for?
Permission. Submission?
He had it.
‘I knew you’d taste this good,’ he muttered, the low, husky rumble stroking right between her legs.
His next kiss wasn’t long and sweet and slow. It was hot and fast and dirty. Just as she’d imagined it would be. His lips were firm and insistent, his tongue seeking entry, which she gave him on a greedy moan. His hands slid under her T-shirt, tightening her belly and heating her blood to well past boiling.
She was so damn hot and horny she could barely see. She certainly couldn’t think. All she could do was feel. And surrender.
Her bra snapped open and she gasped and pressed into his palm when his hand cupped a breast.
‘God,’ he murmured against her mouth. ‘You feel good.’
Felicity moaned as his thumb taunted her erect nipple. ‘Don’t stop.’
He did, but only temporarily as he whisked both her T-shirt and bra off. ‘Oh, yes,’ he muttered, as he drank in the sight of her bare breasts, one hand sliding around her back, pulling her closer as he lowered his head to the opposite nipple and drew it deep into the warm cavern of his mouth.
Felicity sucked in a breath, her back arching, her hand sinking into the silky softness of his hair. His mouth tugged relentlessly at the nipple and it was equal parts delicious and dangerous. A tingling between her legs built with every hot swipe of his tongue as if he was licking her there instead.
Just then the train clacked loudly and jostled them apart as it got up to speed. Felicity held on to him, her hands curling around his biceps as their bodies lurched to the movement. His hard thighs bracketed hers, steadying them.
Hell. She’d forgotten she was even on a train. The noise of the wheels on the track and the sway was something she’d quickly become accustomed to.
And nothing outside the havoc of his mouth had registered.
‘How about we get horizontal?’ he suggested, his lips buzzing her neck, his big hands anchored to the small of her back. ‘Before we injure ourselves?’
Felicity laughed at the imagery of them being found by Donald in the morning sprawled on the floor, her still half-naked.
God, this was totally insane.
She couldn’t believe she was doing it. Getting down and dirty in her train compartment with a comparative stranger.
It was exciting and titillating and scandalous and there was nothing she wanted more.
She slid her hands onto his and eased them off her, keeping hold of him as she walked backwards the two paces required to reach her bed. The backs of her thighs hit her mattress and she sat down, looking up at him, their hands still joined.
She eased her legs apart slightly and was thrilled when he stepped between them. He released himself from her grip and cupped her face with both of his hands.
‘You’re beautiful,’ he murmured.
‘You’re not so bad yourself.’ There was a classic beauty to the angle of his jaw, the blade of his cheek, the cut of his mouth.
Lordy, that mouth.
He smiled, his fingers burrowing into her hair. ‘Lie back.’
Felicity shook her head as her gaze zeroed in on his fly, which was, most conveniently, at eye level. ‘Soon,’ she muttered, reaching out to walk her fingers along the thick bulge testing the strength of his zipper.
He sucked in a breath and a dizzying hit of sexual power surged through her system.