by Janzen, Tara
She closed her eyes on a troubled sigh, hoping to come up with an answer. But no answer was needed, for he kissed her then, his mouth covering hers in a gentle but irrevocable act that claimed her for his own.
He slipped his tongue in her mouth with a soft groan and ran his hands down her body, cupping her buttocks and pulling her close. When she was pressed against him, feeling the dampness of his wet suit seep through to her skin, he slid his hands up under her arms and guided them around his neck.
She offered no resistance. Every move he made was too heavenly to resist, and deep down inside she knew the die had already been cast. They would make love. She would feel him on top of her, inside of her, infusing every pore of her being with his essence. She wanted nothing more. She would accept nothing less for the chance she was taking.
So she returned his kiss in full measure and let her hands explore the breadth of his shoulders and the sleek muscles of his chest.
“Don’t stop there, Jessie,” he said between kisses on her face. “Touch me.”
She hesitated, then moved her hand lower, and he rolled his hips against her, and his voice whispered against her skin . . . yes.
She was totally seduced by his reaction and the feel of him sliding into her palm. There was a sensuality about him she’d never experienced with a man, a silent, compelling confession of needs, and the equally compelling admission that only she could meet them. The grace in his movements put pleasure above domination. Or so she thought until she felt her skirt fall to the deck. She’d been so consumed by his kisses, so fascinated with his arousal, the hardness and the responsiveness of him, she’d been unaware of where his hands had been or what they’d been doing.
She was still decent in her slip, but Cooper wasn’t stopping with her skirt. His hands were already sliding up her blouse, unbuttoning her from the bottom up.
“Cooper . . . Cooper, what if the others—”
His fingertips grazing over the peaks of her breasts silenced her more effectively than a kiss. Sweet pleasure stole her breath and weakened her knees. He caught her to him with one arm around her waist, but his other hand continued to tease and tantalize, stroking her softly and slowly.
“Don’t worry,” he murmured. “No one is going to come within fifty yards of this house unless we’re under fire.” He kissed the side of her neck and bit the lobe of her ear. “John has Bo under benign house arrest at his apartment, and I sent Yuxi to your house.”
That got her attention despite the sensual haze he was conjuring up.
“Why?”
She felt the muscles in his shoulder bunch and give with his shrug. “I wanted to get rid of him, and that seemed to be the place he could do the most good. I’ll pick him up when I take you home.” His hand tilted her chin so he could steal kisses off her lips. “Unless you’ll stay here with me all night long”—he kissed her again—“and wake up with me in the morning?”
“I can’t do that,” she whispered, suddenly feeling unsure of what she was doing. She wanted to make love with him. She wanted to explore his body and partake of the pleasure he offered. But every time he spoke, his words told her he wanted more, and giving him more was exactly what she was afraid of.
“They’ll be okay,” he said, surprising her with the depth of his empathy, even though he’d misinterpreted her main concern. “I really did send Yuxi just to get him out of the house, but he was a police sergeant in Hong Kong before he immigrated. Nothing gets by him.”
“I still can’t spend the night,” she said.
“I know. But you’re spending the next hour making love with me. If I get lucky, maybe you’ll spend two, and that’s what I need most.” He grew silent as he cupped her face in his palms and rested his forehead on hers. Silky-fine hair slipped over his brow and brushed against her cheek. With utter concentration, like a cat licking cream, he flicked his tongue over her mouth and lit her on fire.
She took the exquisite torture, until she was gasping and wondering what was coming over her. She’d never gasped from a kiss before. Then again, she’d never been simply licked before.
“Lord, I love how you smell, the way you taste,” he murmured against her lips.
With no more than that, no more than the turn of a phrase and another soul-deep kiss, he made her reality disappear.
She slipped her hand farther into his wet suit and felt the powerful surge of his body’s response. He swore softly, ever so softly, his hands tightening on her.
“Come with me, please,” he said huskily, grasping her wrist and pulling her hand free. He twined his fingers with hers and, holding her tight, led the way to his room at the other end of the balcony.
A light headland breeze billowed the floor-length curtains covering the open doorway to his bedroom, the sheer pale material reflecting shades of the sunset. Inside, the air was warmer than outside, warm and inviting, like his bed with its plump white comforter draped partway on the floor, as if he’d only gotten out of the bed to bring her back into it.
“Let me undress you,” he said, pulling her into the room and letting the curtains fall behind them.
“How?” she asked, somewhat wary and somewhat curious, remembering again what he’d whispered to her at lunch.
A quick grin teased his lips. “Not like that,” he said, pulling her closer and reaching for the next button on her blouse. “That’s a game for longtime lovers. Later we can work our way through the books, but the first time we make love isn’t for playing around. Everything is too new. We’re nervous.”
“You’re nervous?” she asked, her wariness decreasing.
His grin broadened, and the last of her buttons slipped free of its loop. “No,” he admitted sheepishly. “You’re nervous. I’m excited. But it amounts to the same thing. I’ve been thinking about you a lot, thinking about how it would feel to do this.” He opened her blouse and carefully pushed it off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. “And this.” His hands came back to her slip straps, his fingers sliding underneath and lifting them. He started to pull them down, but her hands came up to her breasts, stopping the aqua lingerie from going anywhere.
He quirked an eyebrow at her. “We’re going a lot further than this, Jessie.”
“Maybe.” The word was a breath, her eyes wide and unsure.
Cooper had drawn some conclusions from the things Paul had told him about her marriage, and he had an idea of what the problem probably was. She hadn’t been with a man in a long time, and as much as she wanted him, she had a lot of doubts, especially since the last man she had been with had been unfaithful to her. Adultery was hell on a person’s self-worth and sexuality.
He hadn’t been with a woman in a long time either, though his celibacy had more to do with dissatisfaction with casual sex than with any hurt he’d received. He had arrived at a time in his life where he only wanted one special woman. He hadn’t been able to find her, until the totally inappropriate Ms. Jessica Langston had walked into his office. He didn’t have any doubts with her.
Her importance to him didn’t make sense in either the short run or the long run. She was a divorced mother living in the suburbs. She needed stability, commitment. He was a man living close to the edge of oblivion, and he needed her. Only her.
“I want to be careful with you,” he murmured, smoothing his hands over her bare shoulders. “I don’t want to push you too fast, or make you uncomfortable—but I also want to take your clothes off and lie down with you on my bed.”
“Okay,” she said, not sounding at all okay.
He took her at her word, giving her credit for knowing what she wanted even if she wasn’t sure of how to go about getting it.
“You’re very beautiful, Jessie.” He traced the lace edge of her slip across the upper curves of her breasts and felt her quiver under his touch. A pleased smile curved his mouth. “You’re voluptuous and soft, and I find that very erotic.”
His hands skimmed lower, over her breasts and down her belly. Bunching her slip in on
e hand, he brought the material up above her hips and used his other hand to work her hose and underwear down. She grew very, very still.
“Don’t stop breathing, darlin’,” he drawled, “or this isn’t going to be nearly as much fun as I thought.”
“Don’t tease me, Cooper. I’m a nervous wreck.”
“If we can get all these clothes off, I think we can get beyond the nervous part pretty damn quick.”
In silent agreement, she moved to help him, but balked again when it came to her slip.
“Not yet,” she whispered.
“Then when?”
“I’m not sure!” A soft blush colored her cheeks.
Unable to resist, he kissed the warmed skin. “All right, Jessie. I’ve got a plan. I’m going to take off my wet suit”—and he did, peeling it off his body with sure grace—“and take off your slip”—he did that too—“and then I’m going to put my hands all over you.”
Without preamble or warning, he started with her most secret place, tunneling his fingers down through the triangle of soft curls between her legs. His eyes drifted closed on a ragged breath. God, she felt so good. He stroked her, feeling her woman’s moisture dampen his fingertips and make his erection even stiffer. Whether she was unsure or not, her body was welcoming him, preparing to receive him.
“Lord, Jessie,” he groaned. “You must have the willpower of a saint to be this wet and still say no. Either that or you’re more innocent than I would have believed for a mother of two.”
“Cooper?” she said breathlessly.
“Yes?”
“Let’s not talk about the kids.”
Thirteen
Cooper took her suggestion to heart and stopped talking altogether, except to murmur encouragement. They stretched out on the bed, his body darkly golden and angular against her pale curves. He cupped her breast in one hand and massaged her nipple to a turgid peak while he kissed her, full of wonder at the beauty of her and the sweetness of her response. Her fingers combed languidly through his hair, and her breathing grew short and shallow, telling him of her pleasure.
When he lowered his head and took her in his mouth, her muscles tensed for a moment, then gave way completely in a melting surrender. She sighed his name and the sound went through him like a searing bolt of heat.
He kissed her everywhere, touched her everywhere, and with every kiss, every touch, his need for her grew. She offered oblivion, a focus and a driving need hot enough to consume him. He ached from wanting to be inside her, but the taste of her on his tongue compelled him to explore her feminine curves, to linger in soft, secret places made for the caress of his mouth.
When his brain started sending out warning signals, he moved up her body, blazing a trail of wet kisses, kisses meant to imprint her shape and the satiny texture of her skin on his mind. He kissed her where the sun had kissed her before, on her chest and shoulders and across the bridge of her nose, where a dusting of freckles graced her, and as he kissed her she began her own exploration.
She ran her foot up the back of his leg and down over his buttocks, teasing him, stroking him. Simultaneously she slid her hand down his chest and past his abdomen, tracing a double fuse line to his groin—then she lit it with her closing fist and a stronger stroking of his shaft.
Jessica felt his response build with every inch she traveled, until his body trembled with the need for control. When she reached her destination, he groaned and let her bring his arousal to a peak. Then he surged against her, swearing softly and making a crude request sound like an act of divine salvation. His breathing ragged, he nuzzled his head into the crook of her neck and whispered his request again. They were dark words, laden with primal fecundity, words meant to lure the innocent across the threshold of polite sex into a realm of pure, transcendent sensuality.
He pushed against her, breaching her silken sheath and sliding deep. Any illusions she’d had about what he wanted from her were shattered by the reality of his first thrust. He was gentle but unrelenting, burying himself to the hilt and then waiting as the exquisite pressure grew. His arousal throbbed deep inside her, heightening her excitement and bringing her closer to the edge of climax. He bent his head and licked her breasts before drawing a nipple into his mouth to suck and fondle with his tongue.
A gasp was wrung from her, and she clung to him, tangling her hands through his hair and holding him to her breast. Still he didn’t thrust again.
She spoke his name, urging him on, near pleading with him, but he only brought his mouth to hers and whispered his request against her lips .
Dragons were a dangerous business, she realized. They were aggressive and demanding, and showed little sympathy for the faint of heart.
But they were also seductive, sensual creatures, ready and willing to push the envelope of her experience. He finally began a slow withdrawal, and her body convulsed around him.
“Cooper, no . . . don’t.” He pushed back inside, and her words changed to a soft moan. “Yes.”
Her eyes fluttered closed and she raised her hips to meet him, taking the initiative, doing what he’d asked. She drew his head down to hers and opened her mouth to receive him. Matching him stroke for stroke, she was slowly engulfed in the sensual haze they created out of thin air and two bodies touching, skin to skin, and heart to heart.
She kept nothing for herself, no protection from the sweet lavings of his tongue, no inhibitions to hide behind. Her instincts were to cherish, to show him with her hands and mouth, and the welcoming gesture of her spread legs, how much she wanted him, how much he meant to her—Lord, what he was doing to her.
Cooper recognized every gift she gave, and he was awed that she gave so much. Her acquiescence was a haven, a safe place to let go of anger and forget guilt, a place of oblivion and succor. Her pleasure was a source of endless erotic stimulation. With every soft sound she took him higher. With every pelvic thrust she taught him a new and enthralling sensation. He couldn’t get enough of her.
He levered himself up on his arms and gazed at the woman lying beneath him. Just looking at her made him feel tighter, harder. Her dark auburn hair was a tumble of soft strands across his pillow. The lines and curves of her body were an inspiration for the act of love, from the smoothness of her shoulders and arms to the gentle roundness of her belly. She was lithe and curvaceous like a female creature made to nurture. She was a woman and lovely, and he wanted her to have everything.
“Jessie, give me your hand.” His voice was rough with strain. He hadn’t meant to ask, he’d meant to do the deed and hope she’d follow his lead.
He had asked, though, and when she complied, lifting her hand with languorous grace, he smiled his pleasure. He was still embedded deeply within her, but the only movement he made was to bring her hand to his mouth and dampen her fingers. He swirled his tongue down over the sensitive tips and across her knuckles, and he felt her trembling contraction on his hard maleness.
With effort, he held his response in check. He was after more than release within her, and he was suddenly very sure he could get what he wanted.
When her fingers were wet, he slid her hand down over her belly and into the thatch of auburn curls between her legs.
“Touch yourself for me, Jessie,” he murmured, guiding her in the act and watching the gentle gliding motion she made. Her thigh muscles tensed and her hips tilted higher. Her breathing grew labored. “You are so soft and sweet there. Let me—Jessie . . .” Her silken sheath tightened around him with agonizing pleasure, leaving him breathless.
He pumped into her, looking down and watching himself fill her again and again. She was coming apart in his bed, in his arms, and he wanted it to last forever. Even as the thought of forever came to life, a firestorm began building in his loins.
Jessica grasped the sheets with both hands, straining. Her legs came up around his waist, her ankles locking behind his back. Dragons were lovers. The strength of him overwhelmed her, the slickness of his movements and the heat of his skin. He
was fire and energy, and he was taking her where she’d never been.
Cooper felt every muscle in his body coil in upon itself. He held off, knowing once he crossed a certain line there would be no control, no retreat, only the driving force of his body taking him to completion.
Her low moan and the surging of her body against him was the last thing he knew before the inevitability of climax claimed him. Her delicate contractions were made exquisitely powerful by the sensitivity of the shaft they milked. She convulsed around him, her inner walls rippling in counterpoint to the jetting of his lifestream. His back arched and he jerked against her, making it last, and last, until the final shudder ripped through him, leaving him dazed and struggling to find a steady breath.
He slowly lowered himself and cradled her in his arms, taking in a great gulp of air as he rolled her to his side. He’d known she’d be the death of him, but he sure as hell hadn’t expected her to kill him in bed.
* * *
Sated, Jessica curled against her green-eyed dragon, inhaling the musky scent of man and the tang of the sea. He kissed her forehead and stroked her hair back off her face, touching her and soothing her still-trembling body. She wasn’t sure what she and Ian had been doing all those years, but she’d never felt anything like what Cooper had given her . Luxuriating in the aftermath of his intensely beautiful lovemaking, she was ready to commit to him for life.
“You’re dangerous,” he said, his voice hoarse.
“Moi?”
“Toi.”
She looked up at him and he flashed her a wry grin. She hid her own smile against his chest.
“Are you sure you have to go home?”
She could tell by his tone that his grin had faded. “Yes, I do,” she said, tilting her head back to see him. “I’m sorry, Cooper.”
Darkness had fallen since they’d first walked into his bedroom, but it wasn’t dark enough to hide his disappointment.
“Then let me just hold you for a few minutes,” he said, drawing her closer and tucking her head under his chin.
