by J. H. Croix
My defenses were down, my control nothing more than a frayed thread. If I could’ve mustered up the strength to walk away from Jasmine before now, I couldn’t the moment she flicked her eyes to me again and dipped her head, dusting kisses across the surface of my chest.
Having her lips on me was like being dipped in lava. A groan escaped and then her head lifted, and her lips were on mine again. We spiraled right back to where we’d been before, lips and tongues tangling in nips and kisses—hot, wet, and deep.
Her foot curled around my calf as her hand stroked down my back, her nails scoring my skin lightly, just enough to stoke the fire inside. I lifted her against me, growling as I tore my lips free to finally taste her skin. Blazing a wet path down the side of her neck, she tasted sweet and salty and smelled like heaven. I wanted to eat her up.
Her legs curled easily around my hips, her skirt riding up. I took several steps and slid her hips onto a counter against the wall. Drawing back, I took a moment to simply absorb the sight of her. Her breath was coming in soft pants, her nipples pressing against my chest with each inhalation. With her cheeks pink, her lips swollen, and the heat of her core pressing against my cock, I could barely think, need beating inside me like a drum and drowning out everything.
She lifted her hands, reaching between her breasts. In a matter of seconds, she unbuttoned her blouse. I didn’t know what was driving her, but I sensed a wildness under the surface. Not that I could’ve stopped myself, I was far past that point. The moment her blouse fell open and my eyes flicked down, I was so lost, I couldn’t see my way out.
She wore a cream lace bra, the taut beads of her nipples pressing pink against the lace, teasing me. Her breasts swelled up and over the small cups. Reaching out, I dragged the backs of my fingers over her belly, satisfaction rolling through me when her breath hissed through her teeth. I held her gaze as I trailed my fingers under the soft curves of her breasts and cupped one in my palm. Rolling my thumb back and forth over her tight nipple, I watched as her eyes flashed. Her lips parted, and I could feel her heartbeat against my palm, beating hard and fast. Like mine.
“What do you want?” My question slipped out without thought.
Because even though I was tied up inside and wanted her more fiercely than I could recall wanting anyone, there was a hint of vulnerability to her, softness that gave me pause.
“You. Now,” she said flatly.
I dipped my head, dragging my tongue along the side of her neck, breathing in her scent and savoring the salty tang of her skin. I traced my tongue over the line of her collarbone and down between the valley of her breasts. Swirling my tongue over the lace, I circled one of her tight little nipples, sucking and nipping lightly, savoring her cry as she buried her hands in my hair. The subtle sting of pain when she gripped my hair was a lash to the need burning me up and offered a relief at the same time.
Lifting my head, I stepped back, curling my palms around her calves and sliding them up her legs, easing her knees apart. Her skin was like honey, light amber all over, her bright blue eyes standing out.
I needed to touch her, all of her. With her cowboy boots on and her feet dangling from the table, her skirt pooled at her waist, just looking at her nearly did me in. She looked wanton and wild, and I wanted her so fiercely, I ached.
When my palms reached her thighs, I slid them over to grip her hips and tug her to the edge of the counter. Glancing down, I saw that she wore practical blue cotton panties. Somehow that was even more of a turn-on. I gritted my teeth and hung onto my control. No matter how much I wanted her—and fuck, I wanted her so badly, I ached—it wasn’t about my need tonight.
I needed to taste her, but I wanted more than one wild night, so I was going to wait because it all felt too rushed. Tonight was about her.
When my thumbs reached the apex of her thighs, I traced along the crease at her hips, the silky soft skin its own tease. She shivered under my touch, goose bumps forming on her skin. I dragged my fingers over the damp cotton between her thighs. Hooking a finger over the edge, I pushed her panties aside, almost groaning aloud at the sight of her pink, swollen pussy, glistening and slick with need.
I didn’t live like a monk, yet it had been a while. Jasmine was going to push me to my limit. Flicking my eyes up, I trailed my fingers through her folds. She was soaked, dripping wet, the insides of her thighs damp from her juices.
“Look at me,” I murmured.
I needed to see her when she came. Her breasts rose and fell rapidly with her short, sharp pants. Her eyes locked to mine, her tongue darting out to trail over her bottom lip. My cock swelled even further.
I sank a finger into her channel, knuckle deep, watching as she moaned, her lids falling. Another finger joined the first. Teasing my thumb over her clit, I watched her, stretching her channel gently before drawing my fingers out and sinking back in.
For all of my control, I needed to taste her more. Dipping my head, I traced my tongue around her folds as I pumped in and out of her with my fingers, savoring the clench of her channel, so slick and wet around me. I knew what it would feel like to be buried inside of her. Fucking heaven.
Little sounds came from the back of her throat as her hips rocked into me. Slowly finger fucking her, I was almost drunk on the salty sweet taste of her and the way she cried out, gripping my hair. I used my free hand to hold her hips fast, my fingers digging into her. I loved her generous curves—she was so fucking beautiful she took my breath away.
When I felt her body tightening, I swirled my tongue over her clit, sucking it lightly into my mouth. She cried out, her channel clamping down around my fingers. With a last lick, I drew back, watching as she arched back, her plump breasts jutting forward. She was glorious.
Chapter Twelve
Jasmine
Pleasure rocked me, to the core. It slammed through me so hard, all I knew was this moment—with fire capturing me in its flame and scattering through me. The only thing anchoring me was the feel of Donovan’s hand on my hip and his fingers buried inside of me.
As I slowly came back into my body, I dragged my eyes open to find his gaze waiting. My heart was thudding, hard and fast, inside my chest. I had no idea what to say. He’d just given me the most intense orgasm of my life.
What I’d wanted—to lose myself, to forget myself, to burn off the restlessness inside—had happened. If only because it was impossible for me not to completely lose myself in sensation the moment Donovan’s lips met mine.
I hadn’t expected this—this burning, yearning need, spinning me wildly until I was dizzy with him, drunk on him.
Stunned, I stared at him, the haze inside my mind starting to clear. There he stood, in all his glory, his muscled chest, the tease of dark hair narrowing over his rigid abs. I wasn’t done yet though. Reaching between us, I caught the buttons on his fly, quickly flicking them open and curling my hand over the hard, hot ridge of his cock.
Oh, I was so screwed. Of course Donovan Ryan went commando. The hot, velvety skin came alive under my touch. He was already hard as hell, but when his cock sprang free and I curled my palm around it, giving it a little squeeze, his breath hissed between his teeth and a low growl came from his throat.
Even his cock was beautiful. Thick and long, it filled my hand as I flicked my eyes up to his face. He stepped back, gently shoving my hand away.
“Not yet,” he murmured, gripping himself in his fist.
Sensation spun inside of me, the walls of my channel clenching at the sight of him fisting his own cock. I wanted him. Inside of me. It didn’t matter that I’d just nearly lost my mind with pleasure. The sight of him sent need spinning through me, sliding through my veins.
“Not yet, what?”
His hazel gaze held mine, his eyes narrowing. “Some things are better saved for later.”
I wanted to argue the point, but before I could even open my mouth, he stepped between my knees, his eyes flicking down. Somewhere in the heat of the madness, he’d tugged my hips clo
se to the edge of the counter. My legs were dangling over the side and my pussy was right there, swollen, slick, and wet.
He stepped closer, dragging the thick head of his cock through my folds and teasing my clit. With my senses on fire, I cried out.
I distantly heard myself begging, “Please …”
“Later,” he murmured.
He stepped closer yet again, sliding the underside of his cock over my pussy. My juices soaked him. I was so slippery wet, he slid back and forth easily.
Instantly, I was needy—panting and chasing after another sweet release. I looked down between us. He cupped one of my breasts in his palm, teasing my nipple as his cock slid back and forth, driving me to madness. I watched a drop of pre-cum roll off the tip of his cock, mingling with my juices.
I was frantic as my hips flexed into him. Then, pleasure snapped through me again, my sex clenching and spasming. I watched as he slid over me once more, before letting out a low groan as he came, spurting onto my belly with his fingers pinching my nipple, the subtle pain an anchor point as I spun loose inside, flying to pieces.
Consciousness gradually filtered back in through the thick haze around me. I felt as if I were coming out of a coma of pleasure.
I was suddenly uncomfortable, almost afraid to look into his eyes. I was usually more in control, more able to orchestrate what happened. With him, I couldn’t control anything. I was teetering far too close to the edge of vulnerability.
I sternly ordered myself not to be a coward and gradually lifted my eyes. His gaze seared into me.
It almost hurt to look at him. I felt stripped bare, naked inside and out. My entire body flushed. As he looked at me, I didn’t know how to read what I saw in his eyes. It felt as if he rang a chord inside of me—with nothing more than a look—that I didn’t even know existed.
His hand slowly eased its grip on my hip, and he stepped back, muttering something under his breath as he glanced around. He reached over for something, my eyes immediately following the flex of his abs as he stretched. He snagged what I presumed to be his T-shirt off the corner of the counter. He quickly wiped my belly and his cock before buttoning his jeans. I was still sitting there, my panties shifted to the side and my skirt in a rumple around my waist.
I felt downright dirty. I had a wild side, not that I acted on it very much. That was the crazy thing about this situation. I hadn’t been with anybody other than Glen in three years.
I forced myself to move, shifting my hips off the counter and slipping to the floor. My boots hit the floor with a loud thud in the unfinished room as my skirt fell down around my hips, and I adjusted my panties. What I wanted in this moment was to crawl into bed beside Donovan, wrapped in his strong, sheltering embrace. But that didn’t make a lick of sense.
Well, this was awkward.
When I glanced up, his eyes snagged mine. I suddenly toppled over that edge of vulnerability—naked and raw, inside and out. Everything in me was leaning toward him, yet I willed myself to step back, and summoned a bright smile.
“I have to go. I’m sure I’ll see you around,” I said quickly before spinning away.
As I opened the door, I realized that I must have looked like an idiot. Calling upon every ounce of bravado inside of me, I turned back as I tried to button my blouse when I realized it was still hanging open.
Donovan stood before me, his hand resting on the edge of the counter where he had just driven me absolutely wild. His skin was damp with a sheen of sweat. My eyes flicked down to the deep cut of his muscles as they disappeared beneath his waistband.
In a flash, he stole my breath—again.
My cheeks were hot by the time my eyes made their way back to his. I had no idea what he was thinking. His gaze was inscrutable.
I managed a shallow breath and then flashed another smile. “That was more than I bargained for,” I said, trying to keep my tone light and flirtatious. Little did he know that he’d just given me the two most amazing orgasms in my life.
That was about all I could manage. The veneer of courage I’d swung over my shoulders as I buttoned my blouse was already slipping.
With a wave, I spun away again, closing the door behind me and hurrying up the stairs, my boots loud as they struck each stair tread. I rushed into my suite, almost slamming the door. I caught it at the last moment, closing and locking it quietly. Not because I was worried he would come in. It was more that I needed some kind of barrier between myself and my need to seek him out.
Because I was already on fire inside. Again.
What was supposed to take me away in my mind had done so quite thoroughly. Yet, now I was spinning as if I’d been flung into the ocean, desire running through me so fiercely I was caught in its undertow, barely able to keep my head above water.
I leaned against the door, my breath coming in short pants, only belatedly realizing I’d left my purse downstairs.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. My head thumped against the door. What an idiot.
I wasn’t usually a coward, but right now, I couldn’t bring myself to go back downstairs and face Donovan. I pushed away from the door, deciding I would wait until I heard him come upstairs before I tiptoed downstairs to fetch my purse.
Slipping out of my boots, I walked across the room to look out the window. Janet’s B&B offered a view of Main Street, which was the prettiest part of downtown Willow Brook. There were cute storefronts, bright flowers, and cheerful colors, all in celebration of the tourists pouring into town. The upper floor of the B&B had enough elevation to look out past the buildings across the street to Swan Lake.
The sky was awash in the sun’s lingering wake. Streaks of tangerine and violet shimmered on the surface of the lake. It was late, and I should’ve been tired, but I wasn’t.
I’d turned myself inside and out emotionally. Unsettled after Levi unintentionally hit a sore spot, I’d come home, taken one look at Donovan, and figured I could lose myself in him.
I’d been quite right on that account. Yet, I hadn’t calculated the true cost. But then, how could I have known what it would feel like to be that intimate with him?
I took a deep breath, trying to slow the residual echoes of my climax. My pulse was still running along at a high idle, humming in the aftermath of my body shattering with pleasure. Twice.
I heard Donovan’s footsteps on the stairs. Each step on the hardwood surface echoed. My heart started thundering again, speeding up as I waited to hear his door open and close.
I figured I would give him a few minutes before I snuck downstairs to find my purse. The footsteps kept coming, right to my door. A soft knock followed.
I considered not answering because I guessed he had my purse. I wasn’t quite ready to face him, but I figured I’d best. I needed to learn to steel myself against him and the effect he had on me. On the heels of a deep breath, I strode back across the room and swung the door open. He loomed larger than I recalled, even from a few moments ago. I didn’t have the added height of my cowboy boots.
I stood there in my half-buttoned blouse, my rumpled skirt, and my socks. Donovan met my gaze, the barest hint of a smile kicking up the corner of his lips and promptly sending my belly into a free fall.
His eyes flicked down, his smile widening when his gaze returned to mine. Glancing down, I realized I had on a pair of mismatched socks—one bright pink with stars all over it and the other neon green with lightning bolts.
I liked to have fun with my socks. When I looked back to him, I shrugged sheepishly. “My socks don’t match,” I said, stating the obvious.
“Not so much,” he replied, that hint of a southern drawl catching at the edge of my heart. God, I could listen to him talk all day. He conveniently continued for me. “You left your purse downstairs.”
He lifted it, and I reached out to take it from him, my fingertips brushing his knuckles as I did. Even that little point of contact sent a sizzle through me.
Staring into his eyes, I was nearly mesmerized by the swirl of color—green and a
mber with flecks of gold, darkening as I held his gaze.
“We’re not done yet.” He reached out and brushed a loose lock of hair off my cheek, tucking it behind my ear. “Good night, sugar.”
His hand fell, and he turned away. I simply stood there, stunned into silence as he stepped across the hall and through the door to his suite, closing it quietly behind him.
Oh. My. God.
Chapter Thirteen
Donovan
Looking ahead, smoke drifted across the sky in the distance. Fred, our pilot for the afternoon, spoke into his microphone headset, and then glanced over to Levi.
“Almost there,” I heard Fred say over the steady thwack of the helicopter blades.
We were headed out to a fire in the western part of Alaska. Much of Alaska was considered the Interior. The area we were headed for was on the edge of the Interior, but not quite on the coast either—where the mostly spruce forest gradually transitioned to tundra and wind whipped across the dry land. We were landing north of Willow Brook by about an hour or so as the crow flew.
We were having a rough fire season this year, but then, it seemed we’d had a rough fire season every year I’d been here so far. Fire season everywhere out West was getting progressively worse. I’d worked a few years on a crew in Northern California before I came here, and it was just as bad there. Longer, hotter, dryer summers led to more fires.
The slender advantage Alaska had was we had far fewer areas where you were dealing with actual people and homes that needed protection. That said, fires could whip out of control fast without anyone around to notice them. With small planes crisscrossing the skies of Alaska all year, fires were usually noticed from the air in unsettled areas. This area was mostly forest—thousands upon thousands of acres, primarily undeveloped, with nothing but hunting cabins and lodges scattered here and there. We needed to get this fire under control before it ballooned much larger and threatened a few nearby communities.
