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In Heat (In Heat Shapeshifter Romance Series #1) Page 2
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He straightened up and smiled back at her. It sent her heart racing and made her mouth dry.
“Erik Blackwell,” he said, extending a hand. “But you can call me Erik.”
She looked at it and then took it when she'd got her senses into order. His fingers closed around hers, holding her tightly, and her eyes shot up to meet his. He was staring at her intently, his honey eyes locked on hers in a way that made her want to blush again. His fingers shifted against hers, sending a shiver through her, and he frowned when she took her hand back.
She fiddled with the cuff of her left sleeve, pretending it was undone as she tried to piece herself back together. It was ridiculous that one simple brush of his thumb against hers meant anything. She was stupid to let it affect her the way it had.
A furtive glance up at him showed he was still watching her.
“I'm Kim,” she said.
“Not Kay.” He smiled.
She blushed.
“I'm not normally like this...clumsy I mean...or talking back to my boss.” She lowered her gaze again and stared at the vivid green plants in the garden.
“I'd like to know what you're normally like then, Kim.”
She swallowed but it did nothing to shift the dry lump in her throat. He wanted to know what she was normally like? And why did he have to keep saying her name? She could barely stand as it was when he was around her. Whenever he said her name, rolling it off his tongue in such a silken voice, it made her want to throw herself at him.
“More professional,” she said flatly, getting the better of herself.
He looked disappointed.
He was a client, and she was just imagining that disappointment. There was no way a man like him would ever really look at a girl like her. He'd want Laura—blonde, bouncing, perfect Laura.
She was beautiful enough for him.
The door to the meeting room opened and Kim turned to see the woman in question entering with her friend, Simon.
Laura shot her a dark look. Kim knew what it meant. It was a warning not to slip up and embarrass the firm, but it was more than that too. She got the impression that Laura was interested in Erik as more than just a client.
“We should go in. It's far too hot out here anyway.” Kim looked at him. He showed no sign of moving.
Instead, he leaned his head back again, raising his face to the sun.
“I like the heat,” he whispered. “I can feel it in every inch of me, feel it warming me through.”
She was enthralled. Her gaze lingered on his face and the sublime smile he was giving to the sun. He looked positively content. Like a cat lying in the sun. Almost ready to purr.
She frowned at her thoughts and told herself that only men in dreams could purr.
“Don't you like the heat, Kim?” he said and brought his gaze down to hers.
She swore for a moment his eyes were more yellow than honey. She dropped her attention to his hands, staring at them, waiting for the fur to erupt.
Nothing.
She told herself that this was real, and in the real world men didn't purr when you touched them, and they didn't suddenly sprout velvet-black fur.
“Well, Kim?” he said. He was closer now, so close that she could feel the heat coming off him. His voice remained a whisper, teasing her senses and sending her thoughts back to her dreams. “Do you like the heat?”
She stared at his chest, watching the rise and fall of it, mesmerised by his nearness.
She nodded.
He was gone.
She blinked and turned to face the garden, breathing hard as she tried to steady herself. He was a client, and he really wasn't interested in her. It was just harmless conversation. This attraction was one sided. Nothing was going to happen.
She jumped when someone touched her shoulder.
“Kim?” Simon smiled at her. “Little jumpy today.”
She nodded, smiling back at her friend. She was glad that he was sitting in on this meeting. Hopefully he'd ground her and she'd make it through without messing up.
“Just a bit nervous,” she said.
Simon looked over her shoulder. She turned her head to see what he was looking at and found Erik watching them.
“Looks like Mr. Blackwell doesn't like to be kept waiting,” Simon said with another smile. “I hear all kinds of things about him. It's hard to know what to believe.”
Before she could ask what Simon had heard about him, he'd gone into the room, leaving her alone on the balcony. Her eyes were drawn to Erik again and she found he was still watching her while he spoke to Laura.
Walking into the room, she placed her jacket down over the back of the chair and opened her notebook. She wrote the date in the corner and Erik's name. She stared at it, getting the feeling there was more to its owner than met the eye.
Just who was Erik Blackwell?
* * * *
Erik leaned back in his chair, fascinated with the woman across the table from him. She was writing furiously, scribbling down note after note of what was being discussed. He wondered if she could feel him watching her in the same way that he could sense when she was looking at him.
He gave Ms. Townsend half of his attention, answering her questions about the contract as much as he could and keeping his girl writing so he could observe her. There was a pause in discussion as the man who had introduced himself as Simon stood, offering to order coffee or tea. He declined both and asked for some water, his eyes still fixed on Kim. He didn't like the easy manner she'd had with Simon when he'd gone out onto the balcony. There was something wrong about him. Whatever Kim thought their relationship was, Simon clearly thought it could be different.
A glass of water appeared in front of him and he licked his lips as he looked at its crystal depths that promised cool relief. The heat wasn't abating and the air in the room was so hot now it was stifling. He'd taken his jacket off and loosened his tie, but it hadn't helped. The hair at the nape of his neck was damp with sweat.
Simon placed a glass down in front of Kim and Erik's attention was with her again. She pressed her bare wrist against the condensation on the ice cold glass. Her tongue swept across her lower lip, wetting it, and her eyes closed briefly. He could almost feel her relief as the coldness of the glass lowered her temperature. It only made him hotter.
His eyes followed her every move as she took hold of the glass and brought it to her lips. He watched the movement of her throat as she drank, her eyes closed in pleasure, and then stared at her mouth when she lowered the glass and licked her lips again, capturing every drop of moisture on them.
He grabbed his glass and downed it in one go, trying to cool himself down but failing dismally.
Putting his glass down, he continued his observance of Kim.
She thoughtfully bit the end of her pen, her fine brows knitting as she scrunched up her nose and stared at the piece of paper.
There was no doubt it was her.
The attraction he felt, the way she reacted to him, and the shape of her. Even the smell. It was her. He'd been dreaming about her for so long now, desperate for her touch and dying to know who she was.
And now he'd found her.
She was younger than he'd expected and seemed a little wary of him. It wasn't at all like he'd been told it would be. She was supposed to know. But then, he was supposed to know her face in the visions too, but she'd always remained a mystery until today.
Was something wrong?
It worried him that she wasn't reacting as he'd been told she would. She recognised him, of that he was sure. Her manner towards him and how open she was around him told him that.
Wasn't she attracted to him? Didn't she feel the connection?
He was burning for her, hungry and desperate for her touch, unable to tear his eyes away from her for more than a second. He wanted to see if she felt the way that she did in his dreams, if she tasted and smelt as sweet as she did in them. He was anxious to see if she'd react to him the way she did there.
He wanted to know she wanted him.
He growled quietly; a call only she would hear.
She gasped and raised her head, her pupils dilating as she stared across the table at him.
He could hear her heart racing, feel her blood thundering through his own veins as it sung to him. He vividly remembered the slide of her legs against his, the way her fingernails dug into his arms as she writhed against him. He remembered the smell of their bodies, their sweat, as they moved against each other. He could still feel the electric sweep of her fingers over his bare flesh, teasing him into a hardness so painful he'd felt he would explode if she only breathed on his length. He held her gaze as he thought about her; the rough glide of her tongue over his neck; the whispered words in his ears; the way her fingers always buried themselves in his hair, holding his mouth against her body. She blinked at him. He sniffed, inhaling deeply as he continued to hold her gaze, not letting her go. He could smell her. She wanted him. She wanted him as badly as he wanted her.
It was destiny.
Twenty-seven years of dreaming of her, of searching for her, and now he'd finally found her.
Long hot nights spent tantalisingly close to her in his visions. Countless hours of touching and torturing her body as she explored his own. It had all been worth it because now he'd found her.
She swallowed hard.
He smiled.
He'd found her, now he just had to show her how good they could be together.
From where he was sitting, she looked as though she was going to take a lot of convincing.
But he could do it.
He'd make her realise that the dreams they'd shared were just the beginning.
The best was yet to come.
CHAPTER 3
Kim dumped her bag down just inside the door and turned to shut it. She put the safety chain on and flicked the latches. Heaving a sigh, she plodded into the lounge of her apartment. Dinner had been dreadful. She tried to erase the sound of her parents bickering about anything and everything from her mind, and found it wasn't that difficult this time.
It was probably because she hadn't really paid attention to them at all throughout the evening.
All night she'd been thinking about Erik.
There was no doubt in her mind now that he was the man she'd been fantasising about for the past God knows how long, but she still couldn't bring herself to believe that he was real, or comprehend how he got into her dreams.
How could he perfectly match her dream guy? The voice, the hair, his build and the way he made her tremble inside with passion. How?
She rubbed her temples, feeling a headache coming on. It was too insane to think about. She'd never been one to believe in premonitions and crazy things like that. There had to be a simple, sane explanation for it. Maybe she'd seen him once and the image of him had become lodged in her mind? It was reasonable. If she had seen him before, she would never have forgotten him. He was one of those beautiful men who stayed with you and it was easy to recall how they looked, even after years of not seeing them.
She shook her head and decided not to dwell on it too much. Instead, she tried to focus on work as she opened the window in her bedroom and began to undress.
The case was slow going. There were so many things to go through and they were supposed to meet with the other party tomorrow. She didn't know anything about them. The only thing she knew was it was going to be a long day, and the temperature showed no sign of dropping.
Sitting in that room when it was sweltering outside was bad enough, but sitting there today with Erik watching her like a hawk, the heat had been unbearable.
She pulled the thin curtains across her window and removed her underwear, tossing it onto the chair with the rest of her clothes.
Sliding into bed, she sighed as she savoured the coldness of the sheets and then closed her eyes.
She wondered if she'd dream again tonight. If she did, would she see his face now?
Would she dream of Erik?
* * * *
Erik lay on his back, watching Kim as she moved about the room. He licked his lips, waiting for her to come to him, even hungrier for her touch tonight than last night. He could see her face now, her soft chocolate eyes and dark brown hair. It was her.
She turned to look at him with a smile that spoke volumes about the things she was going to do with him, and showed not one hint of fear. He stretched out on the bed, looking down the length of his body at her.
His shirt was undone, and he wasn't surprised to see that he was wearing what he had been at their meeting today. The tailored black trousers hugged his hips, his aching erection visible through the material.
She ran a hand through her hair, humming quietly to herself as she walked towards him. She was wearing the little white blouse she had been in today, and the short skirt. He was mesmerised by her fingers as she slowly undid each button of her blouse, revealing herself to him little by little.
He wanted to get up and rip the shirt from her, but he couldn't move, knew that it was her turn to be in control. She didn't need to say a word to keep him still, waiting for her. All she had to do was give him one look, one smile, and he knew what she wanted of him.
He sighed when she slipped the shirt down off her shoulders, turning away from him and hiding herself as she looked over her shoulder at him. Her hips swayed enticingly, making his cock ache for her. He held his breath as she removed the shirt, the soft fabric sliding over her smooth skin.
She wasn't wearing a bra.
A low groan escaped him when she moved back to face him, her arms crossed over her chest, her hands holding her breasts. She stepped closer, still humming a sweet melody. Candlelight flickered around her, bathing her in warm, golden light. His gaze dropped to her skirt and he licked his lips when her hands appeared in view, her fingers skimming along the waistband.
“You think I should take this off?”
He nodded eagerly, desperate to see her in all her glory, dying to be inside of her.
She smiled sweetly and began to undo the skirt.
His eyes roamed over her taut stomach to her full, round breasts. His whole body tensed on seeing them and he could think only of touching them, caressing them and teasing her nipples. He wanted to suck them into his mouth and spend countless hours playing with them.
Her skirt hit the floor with a soft swish and his gaze lowered. He frowned and groaned at the sight of her completely naked. She was all delicious curves and sensuality. He had to have her. It was torture having her so close but so far away.
He reached out, straining to get to her.
She gave him another smile, this one full of sympathy, as though she could feel his pain, and then to his sweet relief she moved towards him again.
He swallowed as she mounted the bed, crawling slowly up the length of him. Her hands brushed over his legs, dipping inside his thighs and then out when she reached his crotch. He closed his eyes and growled when her fingers teased his aching cock through the material of his trousers.
She ran her hands over his length, rubbing him until he was on the verge of begging her to set him free.
Then she stopped.
He looked at her, his temperature rising when he saw the hunger in her eyes. They were dark in the low light, filled with a fiery passion. His gaze dropped to her mouth. The sinfully tempting curve of her lips as she smiled made his heart flutter. He wanted to kiss her, to taste her and crush her lips under a forceful kiss. He wanted to feel her mouth against him, laving him, biting him.
The tug on his belt and the sound of her unzipping him made his hips jerk hungrily towards her.
He moaned out his relief at the ceiling as her hand slid inside his trousers, running along the length of him. She was mercifully cool against him, her fingers lightly tracing patterns over his hard cock. He arched his back, his eyes screwed shut as she pulled his trousers down over his backside, leaving them around his hips.
She sat down on his legs, and he could feel
her knees either side of his hips. He focused on the feeling of her touching him. The soft stroke of her fingertips down his length, from tip to root, and the way they teased his balls, made him delirious. He moaned her name, begged her not to stop, to keep touching him, stroking him.
Her hair tickled his stomach and he reached up above him, tightly grabbing the headboard in an effort to anchor himself as she blew on the head of his cock.
He roared.
* * * *
Kim sat back, still astride his legs and stunned at what she'd done. She looked at his face, watching him panting, desperately trying to catch his breath. The fine sheen of sweat on his skin caught the light, making his muscles shimmer as he breathed.
Her gaze dropped to his stomach and the sticky mess on it.
She couldn't believe what she'd done.
She'd only breathed on him, blowing cool air against his hot flesh to tease him, and she'd made him cum.
He opened his eyes, their honeyed depths calling to her, making her want to stare into them for eternity.
The muscles of his throat worked hard as he tried to swallow several times.
She didn't even know why she'd done it. Part of her had known that it would be his undoing. Somehow, she'd known it, as though he'd said it or it had happened before.
Grabbing her skirt where it was dangling over the edge of the bed, she wiped the semen off his stomach. He frowned at her, took the skirt and finished the job. She didn't know what to do now. She'd never had a lull in her dream like this. It seemed so real.
She gently stroked his softening cock. He wriggled beneath her. Ticklish.
It didn't stop her. She continued to run her fingers over it, and then shifted forwards until she was tracing patterns on his stomach. She could feel the sticky residue still, and the silkiness of his skin where it hadn't touched. She dipped her head, conscious that her breasts were brushing against his skin while her lips explored his flesh. Her nipples ached as she moved upwards, teasing both herself and him as she rubbed her body against his.
He purred. There was no mistaking the low rumbling sound coming from him. She looked up to see he had his eyes closed, a sublime smile on his face like the one he'd been wearing earlier that day at the office. She lightly raked her nails over his chest. He sighed. His muscles tensed beneath her, his whole body going taut and hard.