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His lips swept over hers once more as she placed her hands on his chest, prepared to push him away, but then he nipped at her lower lip. A tiny bite that brought forth a wave of tight lust that seemed to come out of nowhere. He nibbled at the corner of her lip as he pulled her against him, trapping her hands between them.Exclusive content © by Nô(v)el/Dr/ama.Org.
Good Lord, he kissed like a man starving for a taste. Working at the tight seam of her lips, he pressed forward, demanding that she open up to him.
She couldn’t help her reaction to the kiss, no matter how badly she wished she wasn’t affected by it. She wanted to remain aloof to the sensual assault, to remain in complete control of herself, but a longing rose deep inside her, spreading like wildfire.
Her lips parted on a sigh, and Alaric delved inside, slowly probing the recesses of her mouth. He tasted of whiskey and something richer, deeper. The kiss deepened, and instead of pushing him away, her hands fisted in the shirt he wore, holding him in place. He kissed her like he could claim her with his tongue, and damn if he wasn’t close to doing it.
As his mouth melted against hers, her hands spasmed around his shirt, and then it happened. She tentatively flicked her tongue against his, kissing him back. His answering growl rumbled through his chest and his grip on her tightened.
When he finally lifted his head, she was panting and her stare was unfocused. “You taste just as I imagined,” he said huskily, loosening his hold on her and putting some space between them. “And I have a vivid imagination. You taste sweet.”
“Why?” she demanded, placing her hand over her lips. She felt unsteady, as if she’d topple right over if he hadn’t still been holding her by the nape of her neck.
One side of his lips tipped up. “I figured it was the only way to get you to stop arguing.”
Vanessa stared up at him, stunned that he’d used that tactic. “You kissed me to shut me up?”
“Basically.” The smug grin appeared as he tipped his chin down. “It worked, didn’t it?”
She jerked away, breaking his hold and stumbling back a step. Anger infused her cheeks, chasing at the pleasant pleasure his lips had given her. Now she was offended. “You kissed me just to shut me up? You overbearing, inappropriate son of a-”
Alaric caught her once more and kissed her again. This time there was no sweet brush of his lips or barely there touch. He delved right in, soaking her up and kissing her until she couldn’t breathe. A bone-deep wanting exploded, making her swollen and hot, but she cocked back her arm, punching him in the stomach.
A laugh burst from him as he caught her wrist and then her other, intercepting before she could get another indignant hit in. “Ouch, that could’ve hurt.” He said.
“I hope it did!” she seethed, torn between being turned on and ticked off. “You just can’t go around kissing people to get them to stop talking.”
“And why not?” He hauled her toward him as he took a step back. The next thing she knew, he was sitting on the edge of the bed and she was very much perched in his lap. “I thought it was actually really fun.”
There had been times in Vanessa’s life when she’d wondered how she got where she was. Her work? Determination. Gumption. Balls-to-the-walls type of approach. But this? She had no clue how she’d ended up sitting in Alaric’s lap, her lips swollen from his kisses and her body burning for more while she seriously wanted to choke the ever-loving crap out of him.
Alaric looped his arms around her waist, the hold not tight but firm. She wasn’t going anywhere, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to sit here. She raised her hands, ready to do bodily harm.
“It wasn’t the only reason I kissed you,” he said.
Her eyes narrowed as her hands froze on his shoulders. “It’s not?”
He dipped his chin, pressing his forehead to hers. His warm breath danced over her lips and her hands dropped to his shoulders, fingers digging into the tough muscle. “No, it’s not. I’ve wanted to kiss you since you showed up at that club.”
Surprise blasted through her like a bomb. He’d wanted to kiss her then? Vanessa knew she wasn’t the kind of woman men typically lusted over for any length of time, but she believed him. She’d felt it in his kiss.
“And I’m serious,” he continued, his lips grazing her cheek, eliciting a shiver from her. “You’re not staying at a hotel. You’re staying here.” He drew back, so that his gaze locked with hers. “And you’re not going to be with someone else. It’ll be no one else but me.”
———
“Are you okay?” Alaric asked Vanessa the next morning during breakfast. “You look a little lost.”
She shrugged, “I’m fine…. I Just…. I need to straighten out my finances,” she said. “Finding out Christopher cleaned out the joint savings account was a shock. And then there’s that man who threatened blackmail unless I pay him what he feels Christopher owed him.”
Judging from the compassion in Alaric’s eyes, he understood, “You know, we need to find out why that caller thinks Christopher owes him money,” he said.
“I agree. But how?”
“Ask him next time he calls. I mean, come on. Does he really expect you to take him at his word? Tell him you need details, proof. Anyone could call and claim a dead man owes them money. You have a right to expect facts.”
“You’re right. I do.” She took a deep breath, before deciding to go ahead and state an ugly possibility. “But what if Christopher and he were involved in something illegal?”
For a second, Alaric froze. He blinked and dragged his hand through his hair, making her wonder what he knew. “Do you think that’s a possibility?” he asked, his expression seeming to be carefully blank.
“Do you?” she asked, hoping to catch him by surprise.
He recoiled slightly. “Vanessa, I barely knew Christopher. I have no idea what he might have been involved in.”
For a second, Vanessa thought Alaric was lying, but what he said made sense.
“You knew him the best,” Alaric pressed. “Is there any chance your husband might have been involved in something illegal?”