A Gentleman in the Street

By: Alisha Rai

Dangerous. This was far too dangerous.

So get rid of him.

That she was adept at. And if she stole a little something for herself in the process, he would never know.

She placed her hand on the arm he had extended in front of her, trapping her in the cabin with him. Coarse dark hair sprinkled his forearm, scraping her knuckles, which were raw from the tree bark earlier. “So eager to keep me here?”

“Don’t twist my words.”

Pure, perfect Jacob. “I wouldn’t mind staying.” Her fingers smoothed over the curve of his massive biceps. She tended to gravitate toward slender, elegantly lean men. In comparison, Jacob was a brute who could snap her in two. “Especially if you promise to entertain me.”

He had stiffened behind her. “Akira—”

The warning in his voice only made her bolder, desperate to gain control. “We could go back outside, and you can take off your shirt. I liked watching you chop wood.” She leaned back until she was cradled against his chest. His thick thighs surrounded hers.

She couldn’t quell the shudder that went through her. In all the long years they had been acquaintances, this was the most physical contact they had ever shared. Immediately, she knew she had made a terrible miscalculation.

Because this was delicious.

She wanted to stay like this forever. But he would shove her away. Any second now. So she would enjoy it for the few short moments she was going to get.

Jacob exhaled, long and low, shifting behind her so his cock nestled directly against her ass, sending a thrill up her spine. Was it possible Jacob was semihard for her? Unable to help herself, she moved her hips, rocking back against that tantalizingly thick bulge.

He started to curse but cut himself off. She wanted him to curse. She wanted him to be bad, as bad as her. She wanted to corrupt him, stain his pure soul, stamp the imprint of her nastiness on him.

“Yeah,” she murmured. “Let’s go outside. It would be nice, wouldn’t it? I could show you all the things I was thinking about doing to you when I was watching you. All the ways I would touch and lick every part of you.” Akira squeezed his biceps. Her other hand went behind her and grasped his hip, which gave an imperceptible jerk, grinding his semihard cock into her ass. “You like that?” She slid her hand down his big thigh. “I could start at the top and work my way down. Or maybe…maybe you’d prefer I started at the bottom.”

His chest expanded behind her, and she gave a grim smile of victory, stroking his thigh down and then up again. Letting him imagine how it would feel if it were his cock. “I think you would. Maybe I should get on my knees so I can be thorough.”

They stood in silence for a charged minute, during which Akira thought maybe…maybe…

“Stop it.” His voice was harsh, furious. Though she had been prepared for it, the rejection sliced through her, leaving a bloody wound. Jacob’s hand fell away from the door. There was a tug on her scalp as he jerked away, her hair caught in the bristle of his beard.

Her lips twisted, and she spoke through the haze of lust, fatigue and anger clouding her brain as she opened the door. “See you around, Brother Jacob.”

Chapter Three

There were seven hundred and forty-eight atrocious pink roses on the wallpaper spanning Jacob’s home office.

He cocked his head and contemplated the north wall. The rest of his family’s home had been slowly renovated during the five years they had lived here, but since he was the only one who used this attic room, it had been shoved to the back burner.

Maybe this weekend he could tackle it. He mentally reviewed his calendar and scratched that thought. Kati had a soccer game on Saturday, which would monopolize most of his day. Since he had fallen behind in his word-count goals, he would have to spend Sunday confronting the blinking cursor on his half-finished manuscript. He was already dreading it.

The trip to the cabin should have revitalized him, but after two days he’d returned to his home exhausted, unable to think of anything but her and the clawing sexual need inside of him.

She had felt so good.

His eyes slitted, the roses blurring. Over all the years Akira had flitted around him, he’d always been so careful to avoid touching her, fearful a single brush would be like a match dropped on dry kindling.

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