Home > Immortal Nights (Argeneau #24)(11)

Immortal Nights (Argeneau #24)(11)
Author: Lynsay Sands

Something about her tone drew his gaze to her face and Tomasso frowned at what he saw. Drawing himself up, he said with dignity, “I have very good eyesight.”

Abigail bit her lip and glanced away, stifling a sudden urge to laugh. It wasn’t what he’d said that had roused her humor, it was his demeanor. It was hard to manage dignity when you were buck-ass naked, and his attitude just seemed ridiculous in her eyes.

“What?” Tomasso asked suspiciously.

“Nothing,” Abigail said quickly, glanced to him and then just as swiftly glanced away. She then cleared her throat, waved back toward him, her hand at waist level and said, “Maybe you should do something about that.”

A moment of silence passed and then he shrugged and said, “I apologize, but there is little I can do about my erection. Your presence has that effect on me.”

“Erection?” Abigail squawked and whirled to take a look at what she’d been politely avoiding letting her eyes land on. Her eyes found—yes, indeedy, it was an erection. “Holy cripes!” she muttered, and then raised her gaze to his and gasped, “You’ve got an erection!”

“I am aware of that,” he said stiffly.

“Yeah, but—I mean, you’re saying I’m the cause of it?” she asked, sure she’d misunderstood.

“Is there anyone else here?” he asked, his tone just as dry.

“Noooo . . .” Abigail drew the word out as she glanced around to be sure there wasn’t some young Bo Derek type sauntering around with her boobs hanging out. Not finding anyone, let alone a beautiful buxom blonde, she turned back to him with bewilderment and said, “But it’s like daylight and everything. You can see what I really look like and stuff.” Shaking her head, she added firmly, “That boner cannot be for me.”

Tomasso didn’t argue the point. He didn’t soothe her insecurities and assure her that he found her attractive. He simply closed the small gap between them, caught her by the waist, lifted her into the air and kissed her. It was no hello-nice-to-see-you kiss. It was a full-on carnal ravaging that said, “This-erection-is-definitely-all-for-you-and-I-want-to-rip-your-clothes-off-and-use-it.”

Abigail had to hand it to the guy; he was a hell of a kisser. Three seconds after his mouth claimed hers she was a trembling, panting, clinging mass, moaning into his mouth and ready to rip her own clothes off.

“Abigail,” he muttered suddenly, tearing his mouth from hers and kissing a trail across her cheek.

“Yes?” she gasped, turning her head to give him better access.

“We cannot do this,” he groaned by her ear, just before sucking her lobe into his mouth.

“No,” she agreed on a moan as he nipped at the tender flesh.

“That boat could land. Our kidnappers could find us in flagrante delicto.”

“Delicto,” she mumbled. “You’re delicto. That means delicious, right?” she added before biting lightly at his shoulder.

Tomasso chuckled helplessly against her ear, then suddenly turned with her in his arms. “We will move further from shore. There will be less chance we will be found after we pass out.”

“Pass out?” She pulled back to peer down at him. “I know I fainted when you—I mean, when we . . .” Aware that she was blushing, she wrinkled her nose and waved away what she couldn’t say. “That doesn’t mean we’re going to faint again. It was probably the altitude or something. And you were just coming off those drugs they had you on.”

“It was not the altitude,” he assured her, glancing over her shoulder to watch where he was carrying her. “We will faint again.”

Abigail frowned. He wasn’t giving any explanation for why they might faint, but he sounded very sure they would.

She glanced toward the passing woods, her mind working. She’d never fainted before when messing around with someone, but she’d definitely lost consciousness with him on the plane. But they were no longer on the plane. They were basically in the jungle, where there were snakes and icky bugs that could bite them while they slept. Passing out here did not seem a good idea to her.

In fact, now that Abigail was able to think again, messing around with Tomasso didn’t seem that good an idea either. She still hardly knew the man, and yes, he said he was attracted to her, but heck, men were horny bastards, they could be turned on by a hot apple pie. It didn’t mean they wanted a relationship with it any more than his desire to bang her meant that he wanted a relationship with her. And despite what had happened on the plane, Abigail just wasn’t the sort to go around indiscriminately sleeping with gorgeous men just because they were naked in the woods and made her blood boil with just a kiss.

“Put me down,” she said suddenly, kicking her feet.

“Why?” Tomasso asked, stopping.

“Because I don’t want to do this,” Abigail said simply, pushing at his chest. “Put me down.”

Tomasso hesitated, but then eased her to the ground and stepped back. His expression was confused, though, and she couldn’t blame him. Her nipples were still erect, she probably had a wet spot between the legs of her jeans from the excitement he’d inspired, and she had definitely been responding to him like a woman who wanted to get laid.

Turning her head away to avoid his gaze, she admitted, “I’m attracted to you.”

“Sì.” It was a simple acknowledgment that he knew that, no ego or arrogance involved.

“But . . . I’m not the kind of girl who . . .” Abigail paused, feeling stupid. This was not the 1950s or something, and she didn’t want to be the gal shrieking, “I’m not that kind of girl!” with virginal horror. She was not a virgin. What she was, was a woman who had just lost her mother, was emotionally vulnerable, and afraid of getting hurt by this big beefcake when a prettier gal came along and he lost interest in her.

Well, at least part of her felt that way. That was her brain. The other part, a much lower one that was situated between her legs, was shrieking at her to enjoy him while she had the chance. Telling her this would be a really good memory for her to enjoy later. Assuring her that it would be worth all the heartache that would probably follow. Just go on and bounce on his pogo stick now, it begged.

That part of her was a much less dignified communicator than her brain.

“Okay.”

Abigail blinked and glanced up to see that Tomasso had turned and started back toward the beach.

“Okay?” she asked uncertainly, quickly following him.

“Sì.”

Abigail bit her lip, and then asked, “You’re not angry with me?”

“Sì and no,” he answered, continuing forward.

“What does that mean?” she asked with a frown. “Sì, you’re angry, and no, you’re not?”

Turning, he eyed her with mild amusement and said, “You women, you like to talk, sì?”

“I’m afraid so,” she admitted wryly.

He nodded. “Then I will tell you. It is sì because what I want most in the world is to strip every bit of clothing from you, lay you in the sand and lick every inch of your skin before sliding my aching pene into your body.”

“Jeez,” Abigail mumbled, fanning her face with one hand. The guy may not talk much, but when he did . . . Pene was Italian for penis, right? she wondered suddenly, and was quite sure that was the case.

“However, it is also no,” he continued. “Because I understand if things are moving quickly for you and you wish to take time. Fortunately, so long as we avoid my kidnappers we have that time, more than you can imagine. So I will be patient and wait until you are ready for me to pleasure you with my mouth and hands and body until you scream my name and the stars explode behind your eyes.”

“Jeez,” Abigail muttered again, using both hands now to fan her face. The guy was—walking away again. Clucking her tongue, she hurried after him to ask, “You’re willing to wait for me?”

“Sì.”

Apparently the more verbal guy had gone back into hiding, Abigail thought with irritation. She had kind of been hoping for some sort of proclamation. Like, that she was gorgeous and brilliant and sexy and worth waiting for or something. It seemed he wasn’t going to try to sweet-talk his way into her pants though. Which was just a crying shame because really it wouldn’t have taken much sweet talk at all, Abigail thought, and then rolled her eyes at herself. She was the one who had put the brakes on their having sex. He was just adhering to her wishes. Now she wanted to jump him?

   
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