Tawny Weber - Fearless

“Yeah? What kind of fantasy?”

Her eyes were endless, with lush lashes so thick they were like a fringe and so much emotion in them that Luke felt as if he were drowning.

Emotion usually made him run. But whatever was going on with Vanna had him hooked.

She wet her lips, a quick swipe of her pink tongue over that glossy red.

Luke’s temperature spiked.

Horny as hell.

“Actually, my fantasy is of a sexual nature,” she told him, a flash of nerves in her big brown eyes before her gaze locked on his mouth.

The nerves, as much as the fact that her stare was like a caress over his lips, were a major turn-on.

“You don’t say. Is this a fantasy you’d care to share?”

“Maybe. With the right guy.”

“What’s it take to qualify?” Whatever it was, he’d do it.

“Imagination, boldness and the ability to follow directions top the list,” she said. Then, as if testing the strength of the passion between them, she shifted closer so her full breasts brushed his chest. “What do you think? Are you up for the job?”

His body hitting a flame hotter than he’d ever felt with clothes on, Luke grinned at the woman in his arms.

“Babe, I’m all yours,” he promised.

“You sure? Because I have a pretty specific outline of what I want.” Her words were light and teasing, and her eyes were hot and promising. But he could feel her fingers tremble against the back of his neck.

Luke’s hands swept down, cupping her hips so his fingers could curl along the sweet curve of her ass. He pulled her closer, bringing her body flush against his.

Her breath caught, doing amazing things to the glittery fabric of her bodice. The stare she gave him was part enticement, part hope. Luke wasn’t sure which was the bigger turn-on.

“I’m pretty good at implementing plans, as long as you’re open to a little initiative on my part,” he told her.

“Hmm, what kind of initiative?” A small smile played at the corners of her mouth and her eyes danced in delight.

Figuring he’d rather speak in actions than words, Luke leaned down. His eyes never left hers as he brushed his lips in a whisper-soft caress of her mouth.

“That kind, maybe,” he said when he straightened.

She stared, her eyes glazed with passion and her lower lip trembling just a little.

Then she gave a shaky breath and shook her head as if trying to clear it.

“I’m sorry. I can barely hear you in here,” she apologized, tilting her head toward one of the speakers surrounding the glassed-in dance floor.

“You want to go somewhere else?” he suggested. “We can talk.”

Her eyes were like smoke, hazed with desire and promise. Her lips curved, full and juicy, as if begging him to take a bite.

She gave a soft moan that he felt rather than heard. Then, untwining her fingers from the back of his neck, she slid her hands over his shoulders and down his chest, her nails scraping his nipples.

Going rock hard with just the flick of those fingers, Luke almost growled.

He didn’t have to hear her giggle to know she liked his reaction. The delighted look on her face said it all.

Then, giving him a wink and a tilt of her head toward the exit, she stepped away from his body. For a second, he wanted to pull her back. He wanted her closer. Tight against him.

She took a deep breath that did more amazing things to that dress, then slid her small hand into his and led him from the floor and out of the club.

Well, then.

Boredom definitely wasn’t an issue anymore.

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