Are you a romantic at heart?
Fancy a little thrill and sometimes suspense with your romance?
Well, come on into my world.... I bet you'll like what you see.
"You don't remember me?" His eyes narrowed in anger. "Jasmine Angela Mitchell. Daughter of Wallace and Yolanda Mitchell. Birthday; April fourth. Graduated from Tonel High. Favorite pizza toppings, pineapples and ham. Favorite movie; Titanic. You don't remember me?"
With each word, he tugged her closer until they were so close her breasts brushed against the hard planes of his chest. Her whole body came alive at the contact and her breath caught in her throat. If she was capable of thought, she would've been astounded that he still remembered so much about her. But with him being so close to her, well... thinking wasn't high on her list of things to do. High up on that list was breathing.
Breathe, she ordered herself as she stared up at him. Unfortunately, when she pulled in a deep breath, she inhaled his masculine scent. Her senses swooned, begged her to cuddle into him and bury her face into her chest. But she couldn't do that! This was the man who'd broken her heart so cruelly, so savagely, that she still had scars. Even now, thirteen years later, she still vividly recalled the way it had felt to watch him leave while she sat on the ground getting laughed at by other kids.
She tried to take a step back, but his arm came around her waist to stop her.
She probably could've disentangled herself from his hold but she was too mesmerized by the electric sensations that swept through her at that touch and the intensity in his gaze as he studied her.
"You don't remember me?" he prodded again.
"I don't," she insisted stubbornly.
"Maybe this will remind you." He lowered his head.
She didn't see it coming. She wasn't prepared for it. Maybe it was why she reacted to his kiss as she did. She let him slant his lips over hers. She let him run his tongue over the seam of her mouth then suck her bottom lip gently.
By the time she even thought of fighting him, his hand was already at the nape of her neck holding her close as he firmly meshed his lips to hers. She opened her mouth to protest, but he took advantage of the slight opening and pressed his tongue in. The moment his tongue dipped in, she went still, all the fight sucked out of her.
Encouraged, Lucas darted in again. This time she met him, her lips parting for his possession. His hands hadn't shifted from the nape of her neck or her waist yet it felt like he was touching her whole body. Heat zipped through her nerves in intoxicated waves, pooling at her lower belly. Her core tightened in response and she shifted restlessly against him.
As if knowing just what she needed, Lucas dragged her even closer to him with a hand on her lower back until her breasts were crushed against his chest and her pussy was riding his thigh. The intensified contact was akin to throwing gasoline on an already burning house. The kiss turned feverish, his lips moved more firmly over hers as if he was trying to stamp the memory of himself back into her.
He was right. His kiss had the power to bring back memories; memories of him kissing her just like this beneath the bleachers and memories of him dragging her between the shelves in the library so he could drive her crazy with his lips. It brought back memories of the hurt that had stabbed through her when she'd realized that all those kisses meant nothing to him. That she meant nothing to him.
She pressed her fists to his chest and shoved him away. Running the back of her hand over her lips, she spat out, "I don't remember you."
