If You Know Her: A Novel of Romantic Suspense

Staring into his eyes, she said, “I might have been drunk, but I knew what I wanted.”
    “Shit.” Law closed his eyes, slammed his head against the door at his back. “I don’t make it a habit to have sex with drunk women—it’s a rule of mine.”
    Nia leaned in and nuzzled his neck, breathing in the scent of him. Man, he really did smell that good. Wow. If he smelled that good, then maybe the other stuff was really that good, too. “It’s a nice rule … I like it. But I’m not drunk now. And I still want you.”
    His hands came up, gripped her waist.
    “Nia …”
    Tipping her head, she stared into his tawny, hazel eyes, so intense, so burning-hot and all-consuming. Had she ever had a man look at her like that? Like she was all? Like she was everything? The center of his universe? Hell, screw the center … Law was looking at her like she
was
his universe.
    Closing the minute distance between them, she pressed her mouth to his, lightly. “I want you.” Against her belly, she could feel the burning, hot length of him. “I know you want me. And I’m perfectly sober. So …”
    Law was certain he’d fallen into some alternate universe at some point in the past five minutes. Or maybe he’d hit his head and was hallucinating. Could be one of those fugue states, even—were there hallucinations in fugue states?
    Nia pressed her lips to his and he groaned, opening his mouth.
    Slow down—think—
    Except he was pretty certain that wasn’t possible. Thinking. Slowing down.
    And what in the hell was there to think about, anyway? She wasn’t drunk—she was clear-eyed, sober, and that long, coffee-and-cream body was pressed against his, warm and sweet and naked and he wanted her like he wanted his next breath.
    It was more than a want—it was a blinding, desperate ache and what was there to think about?
    Gliding his hands up over her sides, along the curve of her rib cage, up until he could cup her breasts in his hands, he plumped the warm, soft weight of her, stroked his thumbs over her nipples.
    She whimpered into his mouth, then tore away, her head falling back on a ragged sigh.
    “You sure about this, Nia?” he rasped, staring at her through slitted eyes. She needed to be damn sure because he was going to die if he stopped—yeah, it might not be logical for a man to die of sexual frustration, but he was pretty sure it could happen. After all, he’d been dreaming about
this
woman from the time he’d laid eyes on her. Even though he’d only seen her a few times—even though until last night he’d only touched her when he was trying to get a fucking gun away from her. Didn’t matter, because the moment he’d looked into her golden eyes, he’d felt something—a click—something that went deeper than anything he’d ever felt.
    “Sure?” She smiled at him.
    That smile—damn it. That smile ought to be illegal. No woman should be able to smile at a man like that, because it did bad, bad things to a guy’s sanity.
    As that smile curled her lips upward, smug, female and so fucking sexy, she slid a hand down his chest, down to the waistband of his jeans. She paused to stroke him through the thick denim and he groaned, leaning into her touch.
    “What do you think, Reilly? Am I sure?”
    Law swore and shoved away from her, grabbing the back of his shirt and stripping it away. He came back to her, cupping her face in his hands. “Insane—you want to drive me insane, I can tell.”
    Nia chuckled against his lips. “Do I? I’m not trying to drive you insane, sugar, I promise.”
    “You don’t have to try,” he muttered, nibbling at her lower lip. “Open your mouth, damn it.”
    Not that he was waiting … he pushed his tongue inside her mouth, desperate for the taste of her. He slid his hands down her neck, along her shoulders, her collarbone, along the slope of her breasts, toying with the hard, puckered crests of her nipples. She gasped and arched into his hands. “Law …”
    Fuck, she was responsive—hot, sleek, and responsive, reacting to each touch like it was the first, like everything he did drove her wild. It was so erotic, so mind-blowing, and he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. Sinking to his knees in front of her, he pressed a stinging series of kisses down the midline of her body, one arm wrapped around her middle, watching as she arched back, her hands resting on his shoulders, her nails biting into his skin. He pressed his mouth to the curve of her belly,