She moaned softly and pressed her hips right back into his, making his knees buckle just a little. “You’re the one who wanted to draw things out.”
He barked a little laugh. “Draw things out? Damn, I still don’t even really know you.”
She reached for his face, stroked it with her palms, tilted his gaze down to hers. “That’s the oddest thing of all, isn’t it? I don’t know you, either. So explain to me why this feels so familiar, so natural? In fact, it feels like one of the rightest things I’ve ever done.” She laughed a little. “God, I hope I don’t feel like an idiot for saying that come morning.”
He leaned in, kissed her, only gently this time. So at odds with how ravenously hungry he was for her, it shocked him almost as much as it surprised her. “I don’t want any regrets,” he murmured. Although he already knew he’d have a boatload. Not for making love to her. No, never. He was going to regret not having more time here, where time had no meaning. He wanted time to get past making love…to see if they could fall into it.
Talk about foolish.
5
THEY STUMBLED INTO his hotel room, hands all over each other. Laurel helped Sean tug his polo shirt over his head so she could finally get to run her hands all over that incredibly hard chest of his. He captured her lips with his, pinned her roving hands to the wall as he pillaged her mouth with his tongue, taking his sweet time, until she could barely remain upright.
He finally lifted his head, looked at her, eyes glittering. “I want to take my time. I want to make this last for hours, days, weeks. And I want to inhale you, consume you, take you. All of you, right now.”
No, she wasn’t going to regret a single second of this. “I know.”
He slid his hands down her arms, tugged her shirt over her head, then wove his fingers through the tangle her hair had become on the drive back. “I need more hands.”
She laughed a little. He’d sounded so serious. “You’re doing quite well with the ones you have,” she said, her voice thready.
“I want to peel you out of these clothes, but I don’t want to let you go. I don’t want to stop watching your eyes. Do you know they tell a thousand stories? Do you know I want to hear them all?”
He took her breath away. The things he said to her, every word so honest, so baldly spoken, she wasn’t even sure if he was aware of what tumbled from those carved lips of his.
And then he was kissing her again, taking her hands and putting them on his chest, groaning deep in his throat when she began to caress every swell and valley of muscle, the swirls of hair that lightly covered his chest, the rigidly hard nipples that edged beneath her fingertips. He took their kiss even deeper, and then she was the one groaning when his hands slipped up her back and flicked open the hooks of her bra. The very idea of his heated flesh sliding over hers…She shuddered hard when he pulled the straps down her arms, never breaking their kiss.
His thumbs brushed the sides of her breasts, skated in, across her nipples, making her gasp, then moan, as he skimmed his palms down to grip her waist…and rubbed his chest against hers. She hooked shaking fingers into his waistband.
“I’m going to be vertically challenged here momentarily,” he murmured against her kiss-swollen lips.
“Marshals like being challenged, don’t they?” she said, trailing kisses along the edge of that oh-so-hard jaw of his. How could he be so rock hard, so chiseled, from cheeks to lips to chin to chest…and yet one smile set his eyes to twinkling and everything shifted. He went from trained professional…to rogue bad boy. And she wanted them both. On her. In her. Dear God.
He pulled her away from the wall and back-walked her to the bed. “I’d rather face this challenge horizontally.”
“Sissy,” she teased.
He lifted his head from where he’d been nibbling an intensely erotic path from her neck to her shoulder. “Sissy? Is that what you just said?” His eyes gleamed, but it was all sexual taunting.
Oh, could she learn to love teasing this man. “I believe that was the word I used.” She managed to lift one shoulder in a nonchalant shrug, which was amazing considering she was about one brush of a tongue away from kneeling at his feet and begging him to do whatever he wanted, however he wanted.
He yanked her up tight against him, wrapping one arm firmly around her back. She gasped. He was so hard. She wanted to absorb the entire surface of his body into hers. Preferably without the rest of these damn clothes impeding the sensations.
“You want to be taken standing up then?”
Her knees wobbled dangerously, as did her heart. “Not if you don’t think you’re…up to it.”
His fierce gaze was matched only by the incredibly wicked grin that little comment earned her. Oh, yes, teasing him was delicious, dangerous fun. Who knew courting danger could be so intoxicating?
“Back up.”
Laurel’s eyes widened at his tone. The teasing glint was definitely there in his eyes, but his voice was all business. As though he was used to giving orders.
“That wall,” he said, lifting his chin. “There.”
“You need a wall to prop me on?” she commented recklessly, just barely managing the comeback. Not only were her knees threatening to give way, she was pretty sure if she so much as rubbed her thighs together at that moment, she’d—
“No. But you will.”
A little shudder worked its way through her body. She should have known better than to mess with a man who’d had all kinds of special training. “Pretty sure of yourself.”
He took her hips and swung them both around so her backside snugged up against the overstuffed arm of the couch. “Yes,” he told her, keeping his hands on her, bringing his half-naked, rock-solid body excruciatingly close…but not quite touching any other part of her exquisitely sensitized body. “I am.”
He nudged her back until the soft padded arm pushed up against her, then carefully placed her hands on either side, pressing her fingers into the cushion. “Hold on.”
She opened her mouth, but finally decided it might be better to shut up at that point. She’d goaded him far enough. Besides, she was dying to know what his plans for her were, so hyper aware of her semi-naked state…and so unconcerned about it. Her level of trust was probably the height of foolishness…and yet she knew his only goal was pleasure.
And she didn’t think his confidence was misplaced.
He leaned in and she automatically lifted her hands without thinking, wanting to rub her fingers over his soft, bristle-short hair. But he pressed them back down. “Uh-uh.” Then he slowly traced the very tip of his tongue along the line of her jaw to just beneath her ear. The palms of his hands had smoothed up her thighs to rest on her waist. “Next time, we do it my way. And you can be in charge.”
“Next time,” she breathed, wondering if she’d survive that long. She moaned softly and let her eyes drift shut as he pressed hot, pulse-spiking kisses along her neck and collarbone, then shifted his weight lower as he dropped his mouth, tongue and fingers along the front of her body.
She gasped sharply and arched her back when he teased one nipple between his lips and the other between his fingers.
And when she didn’t think she could stand the sweet torture another moment, he moved lower. Who knew her navel was an erogenous zone?
Sean Gannon apparently.
He opened the skinny zipper on her hip with his teeth, then peeled the stretchy fabric down her hips…down her legs…with maddening slowness.
“Oh, ho,” Sean said, his accompanying chuckle low and sexy. “Now we know that Judge Patrick likes to wear a little silk beneath her robes.”
“I, uh—Oh!” Her panties came off with a quick snap that shocked her into opening her eyes, only to find Sean flicking a small knife back into the all but invisible sheath on the inside of his waistband.
“Dear Lord.”
“He can’t help you now.” He grinned up at her. “You signed a deal with the devil.”
Laurel couldn’t think of a single retort, exc
ept, “Yes.”
Sean kissed the tender spot just below her navel. “Don’t worry, I’ll buy you another pair.”
Laurel’s hips started moving, she couldn’t help it, didn’t want to help it. The man’s tongue was just everywhere. Except…She shifted, sighed in frustration as he continued toying with her. “If you’d finish what you started, Deputy Marshal, I’ll let you cut up anything I own,” she said on a pleading groan.
Sean laughed, vibrating the skin of her inner thighs. That alone was enough to make her swear.
“Why, Justice Patrick, such language.”
She arched her back, torn between grabbing his head to push his mouth where she so badly needed it…and slithering to the floor to just let him take his own sweet time.
“Whose idea was it to do this standing up, anyway?” she muttered.
Sean slid his hands up…and his tongue in. A shout of pure rapture escaped her before she could stifle it. Her climax was instant and voracious, a live thing, ripping straight through her, then settling into a pool of hot pleasure that simply quivered endlessly, like ripples in a pond, spreading forever outward.
She barely heard the sound of his trousers hitting the floor, the rustle of the gift shop bag, before his hands were on her hips again. He lifted her so she was sitting on the arm of the couch.
“Wrap your legs—”
She was already one step ahead of him. She grabbed his shoulders, aching for him. He paused, waited for her to look at him. He was magnificent, his face almost rigid with the obvious control he was exerting.
“Are you certain, Laurel?”
Now it was her turn to laugh. “You’re joking, right?”
He grinned, only the humor that reached his eyes was almost predatory. “I don’t kid around about something like this.” His smile faded. “Not with you.”
Something melted within her. She had a sneaking feeling it was her heart…or a part of it anyway. “I’m very sure. Thank you for taking care of me.” She smiled again. “But don’t make me get that sneaky little knife of yours to force you to finish.”
His grin was downright wicked. “Well, I think I’m going to like your turn even better than I’ve enjoyed mine.” He pulled her hips closer and nudged just inside her, making her gasp. “Which is really saying something.” Then he drove completely into her, startling a little squeal from her, but only for a moment.
She was already crossing her ankles behind his thighs even as he tugged her tighter into his embrace.
There were no words then, no smiles, no laughter, merely a primal mating the likes of which she’d only read about…and never dreamed could be real.
Sean literally growled through his climax and Laurel couldn’t be certain, but she might have growled a bit herself.
Afterward, Sean held her close, his face pressed into her hair. She clung to him, panting heavily, unable to form anything resembling speech. Then his stomach rumbled and they both laughed.
“Now he’s hungry,” she teased.
Sean lifted his head, pushed her hair from her face. “Shower with me, then I’ll take you anywhere on the island you want to go.”
Laurel smiled into his handsome face, wondering how he could become so dear to her in a matter of hours. It was as if he was meant to be hers, always had been—it had merely been a matter of finding him. She should have been terrified. Somehow, she wasn’t. She felt…settled.
She stroked his temple, his cheek, his lips. “Does this hotel have room service?” She rubbed her hands over his now damp brush cut. “I’m feeling a bit selfish at the moment and I don’t want to share you.”
Something almost fierce sparked in his eyes, making her twitch hard with an instinctive response, but his smile was soft, sexy. “Funny, I was thinking the exact same thing.”
SEAN WAS FAIRLY CERTAIN he’d died and gone to a heaven he could have never imagined. Laurel, wild and willing in his arms, wrapped around him, was surely a dream come true. Having her now, standing in a steaming shower, her soft curves wrapped around his as they let the hot water pound down on them, went beyond dreams into some fantasy world he was certain he’d wake up from at any moment. She felt so soft, so perfectly fitted to him, so…right.
He pressed his lips to her hair, felt her fingertips press more firmly into his back as she held him even tighter. They’d teased and laughed as they’d soaped each other’s bodies, washed each other’s hair. All that slippery fun had only served to rile them both up again, and he’d started kissing her, sliding his hands over her, fingers inside her, teasing her, tormenting her, until she’d come apart for him all over again.
She’d trembled for him, gasped his name as she’d climaxed. And Sean had felt this undeniable humbling, as if some part of him knew the magnitude of the gift she’d blessed him with. And his kisses had gentled, deepened, taken them to some new place, a place with no words, where none were needed. He simply held her now, felt her heart beat against his, as the water beat down on him.
And he felt both incredibly at peace…and more scared than he could ever remember. He wanted Laurel Patrick. Not for one night, not even for one wild week. He wanted her. In some deep-down, indefinable way. In a way he would happily spend his life trying to figure out. A part of him knew, had to believe, it was the sex. Along with all those emotions Brett’s wedding had riled up in him. Because it was insane to think, to even assume for one second, that she was the one for him. A woman he knew intimately, yet hardly at all otherwise.
Except he knew now, without a single shred of doubt, he could already find her in the deepest dark with nothing to guide him but his instincts.
They’d stood there, in easy silence, comfortable in each other’s arms, for so long their skin would be pruning momentarily. And yet he wasn’t willing to leave this steam-filled cocoon. The real world lay beyond this room, this hotel, and he selfishly didn’t want them to go back out into it. If he could just stay here forever, he would be eternally grateful. Because then she would be his.
His stomach chose that moment to emit another unceremonious growl. She snickered. And just like that, real life was there between them, anyway. When she smiled up at him, so easily, so naturally, it suddenly didn’t seem like such a scary place.
He leaned down and kissed her smile, drinking it in, and knew right then he’d do what he had to, to make sure their time didn’t end here.
ROOM SERVICE ARRIVED forty-five minutes later, but the time waiting wasn’t wasted. They sat on the balcony, each of them sipping a cold bottle of beer, watching the stars twinkle over the bay. He’d told her about his family, his brother’s wedding, Brett’s work with rescue animals and the earthquake that had led Brett to meet Haley, his bride. He’d told her about his sister Carly’s baby girl and how ridiculously besotted his whole family was with her.
“Yourself included?” Laurel had asked.
He’d nodded. “Something about the tiny perfection of all those fingers and toes. It’s humbling, you know?” Then he’d laughed. “She captivates me, and totally terrifies me.”
Laurel had nodded in apparent understanding. He’d asked about her family then, and she’d just begun to talk about her judicial heritage when the knock on the door had come.
He waved her still when she started to rise. She was wearing a hotel bathrobe and nothing else. “I’ll get it.” He’d pulled on a pair of running shorts after their shower. “Would you like to eat out here?” There was a steady breeze off the water, but it was warm, as was the night air.
She nodded and tucked her bare toes back through the balcony railing. “That would be great.”
“I’ll be right back.” Barefoot himself, he went to the door, glad she was staying for dinner. He fully intended to convince her to stay for dessert, too…though they hadn’t ordered any off the menu. And if he was inordinately lucky, she’d stay the night. Then there would be breakfast together before he was forced to go meet Trenton. That gave him almost nine hours to convince her to spend tomorrow evening with him,
too. And every evening after that. During which he’d convince her to continue to see him back in the States.
Because surely between now and then he would tell her he’d decided to take the training job in Alexandria.
It was time to go back home. Any doubts that might have lingered were gone. His parents weren’t getting any younger. He missed his siblings—seeing Carly begin her family, giving Clay a hard time, watching Izzy work herself half to death. Maybe he could make her realize that work was only a part of life. The thought of him being the deliverer of that particular advice and Izzy’s probable reaction to it almost made him laugh out loud, but the room service waiter was staring at him expectantly. So he tipped him, then commandeered the rolling cart, assuring the waiter he could take care of the delivery from here.
He paused to look at Laurel sitting out on the deck, wet hair combed back from her smooth, clear-eyed face. She was sipping her beer, looking up at the night sky. And something inside his chest settled into place. It was insane. Truly. He might get to know her and realize they had nothing in common other than the exceptional ability to have mind-altering sex with one another. But he didn’t think so. She made him laugh, she made him think on his feet, she made him…happy.
So, yeah, he’d tell her about the job. Eventually. Telling her he was ready to settle down—in a town where she happened to work—well, that might be a bit too much for her to deal with so soon. But if that wasn’t some kind of sign, he didn’t know what was. As though all his stars were lining up just right for him to make this change. Still, he didn’t want to risk making her uneasy. Hopefully sometime during their week together he’d know it was the right time, know she’d be as excited by the serendipitous turn their fates were taking as he was. But not tonight.
Tonight, tomorrow, and for a few more tomorrows…this was the time for falling in love. The rest would follow.
LAUREL STRETCHED languorously in Sean’s bed. Alone, but deliriously happy. What a decadent wench she felt like. Spending the night with him had probably not been the smartest move for a woman bent on not making any personal commitments in her life for a while. But it would have taken a whole lot more fortitude than she’d had last night, or early this morning for that matter, to walk away from him.
Sean Page 6
