A Killing Kind of Love: a Dark, Standalone Romantic Suspense

Cover A Killing Kind of Love: a Dark, Standalone Romantic Suspense
Her mouth on his, opening for his tongue, letting him play, then playing right back, set him to crazy.
He was so hard, so much in need, he was in sexual pain. He didn’t like pain. He liked smooth. He liked hot, and he liked to take his time.
And damn! He liked this woman—wanted this woman!
Using every ounce of willpower he had, he pulled back from her and said, “Much as I hate to ask, can you wait a minute?”
Thank God, she didn’t look as if the idea of waiting thrilled her. At least he wasn’t t
...he only one impatient.
“I’ve got protection, but it’s”—he filled his lungs—“in my truck.” Which at the moment might as well have been Outer Siberia.
Her confused expression turned to one he couldn’t quite read.
“What?” he said, dipping his chin to better catch her eyes.
“Nothing, but . . . Oh, damn. Might as well say it.” She moved from his arms, sat on the edge of the bed, and pulled the quilt over her lap, and up far enough to half-cover her breasts. He could see her jaw moving, then her setting it to determined.
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