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She lifted her face and pulled away from him, her fury finally finding voice. "But we're not best friends anymore. Don't you see?" She
bit her lip. "You ruined it, Esteban,
when you asked me out. We can never be friends again."
"If not friends, Natalia, then there's this," he growled, encircling her neck with his arm and drawing her into his embrace. "There's this ... and more. So much more." He
lowered his head and captured her lips, possessing her with a ferocity that left her breathless.
His mouth was hard and soft at the same time, demanding and giving with equal measure. She fought the pleasure, struggled against the passion building inside of her. But it was no use.
Kissing him was like drowning; like trying to struggle against the current of a mountain torrent but being pulled under by forces beyond her strength. Her blood surged through her veins, throbbing in her ears. Pressed against him, she felt the pounding of his heart, and her own heart galloped in response.
His arm dropped to her waist and rested there. No longer encircled by his strong arm, she was free. Free to pull away, but she didn't want her freedom. Her tongue found his, meeting his thrusts with her own exploration. The intimate, heated touch of his flesh
against hers was almost shocking. She was suddenly dizzy, outside of herself,
as if her mind had shut down, leaving only the desperate cravings of her body.
Shuddering, her insides melted, going molten. And that most female part of her
throbbed too, slicking with desire.
She'd dreamed of this. In her most secret of hearts, she'd wanted this. His hands on her body, touching her. His tongue in her mouth, tempting her.
Moving closer, she buried her fingers in the crisp waves of his hair and molded herself against his body. She could feel his sex against her abdomen, hard and needy ... wanting her.
Wanting her ... needing her. The chant circled in her head. She wanted too, needed too.
But not like this, a part of her mind fought the dizzying desire, the pent-up passion. She refused to be another of his conquests. She must listen to her head, not her glands.
She pushed against his chest and forced herself to tear her mouth from his, gasping, "Don't! I don't want this. It's not right, Esteban."
He released her and backed up a step, raising both hands in mock surrender. He pinned her with his mahogany colored eyes and said, "It is right, Natalia, and you know it. You want it as much as I do."
She couldn't answer, knowing what he said was the truth. She wanted him, a feeling both strange and frightening.