3
" The new doctor, you say?” “Here to tend to your scratches,” he confirmed with a bow so slight as to be insulting. His low, smooth voice made the task sound distinctly . . . unchaste. Her bewilderment increased. Such a raw, animal presence did not generally belong to doctors. Now she was awake to it, she could feel its effect, thrumming through the air between them like curling tendrils of electricity, reaching for her. This one . . . this one would say very nasty things in bed, and laugh at her when she protested, and make her like it anyway. "
― Meredith Duran , That Scandalous Summer (Rules for the Reckless, #1)
6
" She let herself be had. With two women in the room behind her and her staff wandering the halls, she relaxed into his hold and returned his kiss. He tasted of the tea, of the sweetness of sugar; he tasted like a very bad idea that she would soon regret, but not now. Never now, while he kissed her yet.
His hand skimmed down her body, shaping her breast. She opened her eyes and discovered him watching her, so blue his eyes were, and his palm over her stiffening nipple suddenly seemed to carry a message, too. The audacity of his touch, paired with the frank boldness of his look, made her laugh from sheer delight.
She felt him grin against her mouth. His hand slipped farther yet, seizing her by the waist and pulling her more solidly against him. Her joints felt like melting waxworks, incapable of supporting her. She flung her arms around him and let him have all of her weight—and hit the wall harder yet as he stepped straight into her. Now she was doubly pinned, the tight, taut planes of his body as unyielding as the plaster behind her.
Again he kissed her, harder yet, as though trying to convince her of something. What? What was the aim of his persuasion? She kissed him back eagerly, for did he not see? She was already convinced. She found his hair, soft and a touch too long, where it brushed against his collar. The skin beneath was hot and smooth. Her palm wrapped around his nape, and as she gripped him, she shuddered. This need felt elemental. Like hunger or thirst.
From the entry hall far below came the sound of voices. They froze. Her eyes snapped open. His were so very, very blue.
Someone would see them. They stood in plain view.
His face turned into her neck. She heard, felt, the great breath he drew. Very low, against her skin, the roughness of his jaw abrading her, he spoke.
“Friendship is not what I want.”
Her hands broke free of her caution. They found his back, gathering in handfuls the soft wool of his jacket. Think. There were reasons, very good reasons, to discourage him. Money: he had none. Power: he had too much over her. He simply didn’t realize it. "
― Meredith Duran , That Scandalous Summer (Rules for the Reckless, #1)
11
" Time, he thought, was a privilege, and in a just world this would be their bed, and this night not worth counting, it being the first of innumerable shared nights to come. But now he knew why men married, for then time was theirs, a privilege and a claim; your time is all mine, he would tell her. "
― Meredith Duran , That Scandalous Summer (Rules for the Reckless, #1)