“Was your first time special?”
“My first time was in the back of a Cutlass and lasted about forty-seven seconds,” he confessed.
“My first time will ensure my family can’t make me a virgin sacrifice next week.” She gave him a look that made him feel properly moronic for trying to be a gentleman. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I won’t hurt you.” She tugged her dress over her head in a gesture so fluid he barely saw her move until she was standing in front of him in only her underwear.
He’d tried to be a decent guy.
Looked like they were going to do this her way.
Chapter Eight
Once she’d stripped bare in Shane’s living room, Siobhan’s bravado faded as he stared at her like she was about to bite him. She’d been led to believe it would be easy to convince a man to have sex with her. Hadn’t Shane himself teasingly said all she had to do was ask nicely?
She gave him a soft smile—her best impression of a sex kitten—and in a breathy whisper said, “Please?”
He groaned. “Oh, goddammit.” He took a step closer, his hands hovering over her hips, and he met her gaze with a stern look. “Are you sure about this?”
“Yes.”
“I mean, super-duper sure?”
“Shane?” She leaned close, her mouth near his throat where she breathed hotly against his skin.
“Uh-huh?”
“Could you please shut up and fuck me?”
Apparently please was the magic word.
He pulled her against him, his lips crushing hers as he fed on her mouth with a brutal, needy kiss. With his hands moving over her body, exploring her newly exposed skin, she wanted to touch more of him too. She yanked at the hem of his shirt, dragging it over his flushed skin until he was forced to break free of the kiss so the garment could be disposed of. Siobhan paused, marveling at his physique. He wasn’t a big man, unless she counted height, but he was all muscle, and his body was that of a fighter—lean and strong. On the left side of his torso, over his ribs, was a large black-and-gray tattoo depicting a woman with a sword, her eyes blindfolded, stabbing a dragon.
Justice.
Shane, apparently not wanting to let her get distracted, lifted her while making a noise between a growl and a sigh. Siobhan wrapped her legs and arms around him, latching herself to his body as he carried her from the living room to a small makeshift bedroom hidden behind a curtain he’d hung from the ceiling. He knelt on the mattress, only loosening his hold on her when there was no risk of her being dropped.
He met her gaze, and she worried he might ask her if she was sure again. Instead he smiled wolfishly and skimmed his hands from her hips to her breasts, sending a nervous shiver across her skin. This was nothing like she’d prepared herself for. She’d imagined sex plenty of times, her mind wandering over things she’d read in books or seen in movies, but she’d always thought about it in a removed, almost analytical way. She was never meant to experience it herself, so best not to dwell on it. Even when she’d met Shane for the first time she hadn’t let herself admit she’d been attracted to him. Becoming involved with a man was the last thing on her mind, and wanting one was about as smart as being on a diet and spending your days standing in front of a doughnut shop.
If you weren’t allowed to have it, out of sight out of mind was the only safe course of action.
Shane unsnapped her bra with a flick of his fingers, and she shuddered.
Forget being a dieter in a doughnut store. She was a diabetic in a candy factory, and sugar shock was about to set in.
His mouth reversed the path his hands had taken, his tongue and lips trailing daring kisses down her belly and stopping just shy of the waistband of her underwear. “Oh…my.” She breathed raggedly. Shane touched her in an eager, attentive way that made her think it had been awhile since he’d had a woman to play dirty with and he was going to make the most of it while he had her here.
She pushed her own bra off onto the floor but covered her breasts uncertainly.
“No,” he said, stopping his exploration to look up at her from his rather precarious position nestled between her knees. “Don’t hide.”
“But…”
“Siobhan.” The way he said her name made long-ignored parts of her clench with anticipation. “Who is saving whose life here?”
“You.”
“Is saving who?” He hooked his fingers in her underwear and gave a warning tug.
“Me.”