2011: It's been ten years since the sky literally came crashing down around Yael Malkah and upended her world. Now she's returned to New York to visit her ailing grandmother. With no other family, it's up to her to take care of the family business...
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The moment the elevator doors closed behind them, Yael and Haustin fell into each other's arms, resuming the passion they shared on the sidewalk. It consumed her, and even as she thought it, Yael knew it sounded ridiculous. Everything disappeared—work, Miriam, her past. She moaned as he pushed her against the wall of the car, trailing kisses down her neck. The echo of their breathing was the only sound, nearly drowning out the ding as they reached her apartment. Noticing the open doorway, Yael took his hand and pulled him into the living room, her blood humming.
"This is some place." He glanced around in awe, zeroing in on the windows. "I could handle that view every day."
Yael laid her hand on his cheek. "Do you really want a tour now?"
"Hell, no." A muscle ticked in his jaw. "I want you."
Haustin yanked her to him, backing her up until she was pressed against the cold glass of the windows. He slid her arms above her head, pinning them there, and dipped in for another kiss. His tongue danced with hers, and he nibbled on her bottom lip. Desire, hot and electric, swept through her, pooling between her legs. She would've crumpled to the floor if not held in place by his hard body. Impatient, she ground her hips against his and heard his breath catch. His lips moved to her ear lobe and lower, and her mouth cried from the absence of his until she felt his teeth grazing the hollow of her neck. One hand snaked down to cup her breast, and he groaned as she arched into it, desperate to feel his fingers on her bare skin. Yael struggled to free her arms from his one-handed grip, but he was too strong. Dammit, she wanted to touch him. Needed to.
He separated a fraction, staring into her eyes. "When I touch your skin, press my lips to it, I'm reminded of fire. Of heat and danger."
She answered him with a kiss, amazed at what his words did to her, how they drove her. He was hard against her hip, and she continued moving against him, but nothing worked. Nothing would work until she had her legs around him. She couldn't get close enough, and when he finally released her wrists to take both breasts in his hands, she began unbuttoning his shirt, fumbling and panting. All that mattered was Haustin's body and the emotions crashing inside of her. He'd been right about fire. It burned her from within, gathering at her core, threatening to burst. He was a drug, rushing through her veins and grabbing hold. Growling, Haustin lifted her dress over her head, and the look in his eyes darkened as they skimmed over her body.
"You are beautiful."
He bent to press his lips to her chest, inching lower, and she was lost between impatience and wishing he'd linger over every inch of her for hours. But, as soon as she had his shirt undone, revealing a firm chest dusted with dark hair, and touched his skin, everything changed. Her hunger became uncontrollable, a beast craving to be fed. Desperate for release, she ripped at his pants, pushing them past his hips. She reached out, finding him mouth-wateringly hot and ready. Things she hadn't felt in years—confidence, desire, even innocence—stirred to life again, reawakened by Haustin's touch and taste.
