Riding the Storm - Brenda Jackson [18]
He deepened the kiss and she proved that she could handle him, tongue for tongue, lick for lick, stroke for stroke. It seemed that he had also tapped a hunger inside of her that she hadn’t fed in a while. He intensified the kiss, knowing she wanted him as much as he wanted her.
They felt a jolt when the coach came to a stop and they broke off the kiss, pulling apart. He glanced out the window, then glanced back at her. They were at the hotel. Would she change her mind or would they finish what they’d started?
Knowing the decision was hers, he leaned over and placed a kiss on her lips. “What do you want, Jayla?” he asked, his breath hot and ragged against her ear. He hoped and prayed that she wanted the same thing that he did.
He watched as a smile touched her lips. She then reached out to run her hand down his chest, past his waist to settle firmly on his arousal that was pressing hard through his pants.
He swallowed hard, almost forgetting to breathe. His mind was suddenly filled with scenes of all the things he wanted to do to her.
She met his gaze and in a soft voice whispered, “I want you to make love to me, Storm.”
Four
S torm’s knuckles gently brushed across Jayla’s cheeks just moments before his mouth descended on hers. The words she’d just spoken were what he wanted to hear, and at that moment he needed to taste her again.
He was swamped with conflicting emotions. A part of him wanted to pull back, unable to forget she was Adam’s daughter, but then another part of him accepted and acknowledged what she’d said was true. She was old enough to make her own decisions. Even Adam had pretty much conceded that before he’d died.
He slowly, reluctantly, broke off the kiss and took a deep breath. Her eyes glinted with intense desire and he was suddenly filled with a dangerously high degree of anticipation to give her everything she wanted and needed. Without saying a word, he took her hand. Together, they got out of the coach and went into the hotel. The walk across the lobby to the elevator seemed endless, and all Storm could think about was what he would do to her once they were alone. That short dress she was wearing had driven him crazy all night. More than once, his gaze had been drawn to her bare legs, legs he wanted wrapped around him while they made love.
“My room or yours,” he asked, moments before the elevator door swooshed open before them.
Their eyes met and held. “Whichever one is closest,” she said as desire continued to flicker in her eyes.
“That would be yours.”
They stepped into the elevator and after the door closed behind them, he leaned against the wall. They were alone and he tightened his hands by his side. The temptation to pull her into his arms and devour her mouth again was unbearable, and when she swept the tip of her tongue nervously across her top lip, his stomach clenched and he swore beneath his breath.
“I want you so damn much,” he had to say. The scent of her perfume was soft and seductive.
“And I want you, too, Storm.”
That statement didn’t help matters, either. He had wanted to pull her into his arms the moment the elevator came to a stop on her floor, but taking a deep breath, he held the door as she stepped out off the car before him. Holding hands, they walked silently down the corridor to her hotel room. Intense sexual need was closing in on him. He had to admit he’d never wanted a woman this badly.
When they reached her room, he leaned against the wall as Jayla opened her purse, pulled out her key and inserted it into the lock. She opened the door with ease and walked into the room. He didn’t waste any time following and closing the door behind them. She flipped a switch that brought a soft glow of light to the room, then turned slowly to him, meeting his gaze.
They didn’t say anything for a brief moment; then he reached out and pulled her into his arms. His mind told him to take things slowly but the