Leanne Banks – The Danforths: Marc, Tanya & Abe: The Laws of Passion / Terms of Surrender / Shocking the Senator (страница 8)
“Take your hand off me.” She slipped her keys into her pocket with her free hand. “And don’t call me
“Oh. Excuse me. I meant Special Agent
In one fell swoop, Marc swung her off her feet and into his arms. “Aw, the hell with it.” He forgot his irritation and forgot the rules of decency along with it. “Let’s just find out what’s real and what’s not—right now.”
Four
“Marcus?” The look on Dana’s face had to be pure amazement. Not so much because he’d physically assaulted her—they both knew she could’ve defended herself against him with little trouble.
No, she looked—self conscious. A bit frightened by her own lack of resistance, perhaps. Or maybe she was simply amazed because she’d let things get out of control. He wondered if she was feeling concerned by his actions…or if she felt as stunned by her own reactions as he did.
Lost in the sensual moment, Marc forgot everything as his blood heated and pulsed. He forgot about being arrested. He forgot she was an FBI agent. He surprisingly managed to even forget that he’d sworn off women forever.
“Dana.” Desire roughened his voice as they stared into each other’s eyes. He tried again. “Please….”
Never before had she heard anyone say her name in quite that same raspy, pleading kind of voice. The sound sent licks of fire spiraling down her spine. She shivered in the flames, without really understanding why.
She would give anything to hear him say her name that way once more. But instinct made her afraid to ask for what she wanted. Afraid to break the spell. She wasn’t frightened of him—only of herself.
A soft uncertain noise sounded in her ears, and she realized it came from her own throat. It surprised her, the same way she’d been amazed when she placed a hand against his chest to balance herself and found his heart beating as rapidly as her own.
Finding her throat suddenly dry, she swallowed hard. His eyes dropped to her mouth, and she knew in an instant what would come next. He lowered his head the few inches separating their mouths and grazed his lips against hers.
Soft. The thought registered with surprise. The texture of his mouth felt like velvet—so soft, so exotic.
Dana couldn’t exactly remember when she’d last kissed a man—if she ever really had. But she did know for sure that it could not have been like this.
For all its gentleness, there was a deep demand in Marcus’s kiss. Hunger and passion were buried under the guise of a tender touch. She was certain about his desires because the drugging insistence of them was pulling the same responses from her own body.
A breathless whimper rumbled deep and escaped her lips, amazing her yet again with such wanton responses to him. As if with a life of their own, her fingers began to knead the cotton of his shirt. The navy-blue pullover bunched as she flexed her hand.
She wished she had the nerve and the time to rip his shirt all the way off so she could run her fingers through the hair on his chest. The vision of him shirtless was as clear to her now as it had been a few hours ago when he’d first stepped from his shower. And she felt every bit as desperate to touch that hair-covered flesh—to slide her palms over his work-hardened muscles…as she had then.
Marcus eased one of his hands away, slowly letting her slide down the full length of him, without ever breaking the kiss. She felt his stiffened flesh pressing against her belly, right through both their slacks.
When he tenderly placed his hands on her face and kneaded her jaw, she opened for him. His tongue caressed her lips, seducing its way past them to find her teeth. She opened wider yet and gingerly touched his tongue with hers.
Intoxicating and sweet. Like nothing she’d ever experienced before.
Marcus anchored a fist in her hair and slid the other hand down her back. Endlessly, his palm inched a heated path down her spine, finally coming to rest on her hip.
Deepening the kiss, he coaxed her tongue to wind around his. Then he drove deeper still, blasting her with a wicked heat. He dragged her hips tighter against his groin.
She melted against him. There was no resistance anywhere in her body. In her whole life she’d never felt so limp and needy. Wanting this, wanting him, she moaned into his mouth.
Marc heard the sound like a roar of white water across slickened rocks. She tasted sizzling hot, icy sweet. When he felt her hands tentatively touch his shoulders, it was as if the rest of the world simply ceased to exist.
Passion and power. He’d found all of that and more in her kiss. Feasting on her softness, he filled his hands with her rounded jeans-covered bottom.
He broke the kiss, needing to taste the rest of her. Licking his way up her jawline, he found her sensitive earlobe and suckled. What fascinating sensations she had stirred in him. He kissed his way down her neck, restlessly moving his hands up and down her sides, eager to fill his palms with her breasts.
Finally covering one breast with his hand, he lasered his mouth back across hers, letting the beast inside the man go free. He wanted to taste every inch. He wanted to go on, licking and lathing, until he could bury himself deep inside her welcoming body.
Somewhere, back in a still-rational part of his brain, he knew this was not how a man kissed a woman for the first time. But this was the kind of kiss—the kind of woman—that he’d dreamed about for all of his life.
Dana was so much more than anyone before. So strong, yet so tender. Passionate, vibrant and real. She was everything that Alicia had never been.
That shocking thought brought him up abruptly. The pain of remembering Alicia’s betrayal threw ice water against his heated skin and numbed his desire. What in God’s name was he doing?
Clutching lamely at Dana’s shoulders, he levered himself away from her and tried to catch his breath. She reached out to him and opened her drugged eyes, silently pleading with him to come back.
Heaven knew that’s what he wanted, too. He wanted to go on kissing her…and much more.
He shut his eyes and cursed through gritted teeth.
Dana found herself blinking furiously, but at last she cleared the confusion from her brain. “Where the hell did that come from, Danforth?” she demanded with a shaky voice. “What were you thinking?”
Marc opened his eyes wide, but took a step back. “I’m not sure. But whatever it was, you were thinking it too.” The look in his eyes held the same accusations and disorientation that she was feeling.
Many inadequate images ripped through her, but she wasn’t positive she could articulate any of them. She’d definitely wanted him to keep on kissing her. But the rational side of her knew it had been right for them to stop.
From deep in her gut, she tried putting up an invisible shield around her emotions. But her fingers wouldn’t obey her brain and automatically went to her swollen lips, tentatively touching the still-pulsing flesh there.
It had never occurred to her that she might ever kiss a man like that. And for it to be
Well, she supposed there was just no explaining it. Not to him and certainly not to herself.
Clearing her throat, she pressed her lips together and tried to think. “Let’s get inside the house before we’re spotted,” she finally managed. “Do the gates on your fence actually close and lock?”
Marc had been standing there, studying her in the glare of the automatic yard lights. “Yeah,” he answered with a drawl. “At least they did a year ago when I first moved in. The chain-link is mostly just for Laddie, not for protection. But the dog has never needed fencing. Outside the house, he knows where he belongs.”
“Go lock the gates then,” she ordered. “I’ll get a couple of things out of my trunk and meet you inside after I disarm the security system.”
Her words seemed to shake him from his sensual stupor. “Make sure Laddie is inside the fence before I lock the gates,” he told her before spinning around and heading off into the crisp autumn night.
After he’d gone, Dana finally took a huge deep, cleansing breath. She stood five foot eight and sometimes towered over men, but Marc’s six-two had made him seem like a giant standing next to her.
Shaking the cobwebs from her head, she dug the duffel out of the trunk. Ridiculous. Men simply did not make her nervous. Never had. And she was determined that Marc Danforth would not be the first.
In all of her life…first in high school while walking the dangerous streets of her neighborhood, then in college taking law enforcement courses with tough ex-marines, and finally at Quantico during FBI training…she’d turned men into friends or enemies. But every single one of them had kept a respectful distance.
She’d never allowed any of them to push her, and she’d worked hard at being one of the guys. It had been important to her to maintain that professional distance.