by Lori Foster
Her hands moved over his bare back, loving the feel of hot flesh and hard muscle. She’d seen more male perfection in the past two days than most women experienced in a lifetime, but nothing and no one could compare to the man now making love to her. Desperately, she pulled her mouth free and groaned out a plea. “Sawyer…”
It seemed to be happening too fast. Her body was taut, her breasts swollen and acutely sensitive. And where his pelvis pushed against her, she ached unbearably.
“It’s all right,” he whispered against her mouth, the words rushed and low. “Let me get this shirt off you.”
Before he’d finished speaking, the T-shirt was tugged above her breasts. He paused, staring down at her with black eyes, and one large hand covered her right breast. His fingertips were caloused, and they rasped over her puckered nipple, around it, pinching lightly. She cried out, her body arching hard. The pleasure was piercing, sharp, pulling her deeper. He soothed her with mumbled words, then bent, and his mouth replaced his hand.
With a gasp, her eyes opened wide. She couldn’t bear it. His mouth was so hot, his tongue rough, and then he started sucking. Hard. All the while his hips moved in that tantalizing rhythm against her in a parody of what was to come. She lost her fragile grasp on control, unaware of everything but the implosion of heat, the wave of sensation that made her muscles ripple and her skin burn, the link between her breasts and her groin and the way he touched her, how he moved against her…
Without thought, she dug her nails into his bare shoulders and she tightened her thighs around his hard hips, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip and groaning long and low with the intensity of her orgasm.
After a moment the feelings began to subside, leaving her shaken and confused. Sawyer raised his head, his lips wet, his eyes blazing. He stared at her and whispered, “Damn.”
She shared his sentiments. Shock mingled with sated desire. She hadn’t even known such a thing was possible, much less that it would ever happen to her. She wasn’t, in the normal course of things, an overly sexual woman, and gaining her own pleasure had always been an elusive thing, not a bombarding rush.
He kissed her gently, and all she could do was struggle for breath, unable to even pucker for his kiss. His hand trembled as he smoothed hair away from her face, now pulled loose from the string she’d tied it back with. “I didn’t expect that,” he admitted, still softly, with awe.
She swallowed hard, trying to gain her bearings. A pleasurable throb reverberated through her limp muscles. She could barely think. “Wh…what?”
He touched her cheek and a gentle smile lit up his face. Without a word, he sat up astride her thighs and pulled the T-shirt the rest of the way off, lifting each arm as if she were a child. “You are so damn sweet.”
She covered her aching breasts with her hands, shyness over what had just happened engulfing her. Sawyer ignored the gesture as he looked at her body with an absorption that left her squirming. His hands smoothed over her shoulders, down her sides. He touched her navel with his baby finger, dipping lightly, then flicking open the snap to her jeans.
“I want you naked. I want to look my fill.”
What he said and the heat in his words made her entire body blush. He smiled, then moved to the side of her to wrest her jeans down her legs. “Lift your hips.”
She swallowed her embarrassment and did as he asked, anxious to see what would come next. So far, nothing had been as she’d anticipated, or what she’d come to expect between men and women. Then he took her panties with her jeans, and as he looked at the curls between her legs, she squeezed her eyes shut.
They snapped open again when the bed dipped and she felt his mouth gently brush over the top of one thigh. “Sawyer!”
He reversed the position of his upper body so that he faced the foot of the bed; his arms caged her hips and again he kissed her, this time flicking his tongue out and tasting her skin. “Open your legs for me,” he growled low.
She released her breasts to clutch at the sheet, trying to ground herself against the unbearable eroticism of his command. He didn’t hurry her, didn’t repeat his order. He merely waited and finally, after two deep breaths, she found the courage to do as he asked. She felt stiff with expectation and nervousness and excitement as she felt herself slowly exposed.
He made a low rasping sound of appreciation, then whispered, “Wider.”
Shaking from head to toe, she bent one knee, and with a raw groan, he took swift advantage. She felt his hot moist breath, the touch of his lips on the inside of her thigh, then higher, until he was there, kissing her, nuzzling into her femininity. With a jolt of red hot lust, she lifted her hips, the movement involuntary and instinctive, offering herself to him completely.
“Easy, sweetheart.” His hands slid under her, locking around her thighs, keeping her still. Keeping her wide open.
She felt the bold stroke of his tongue, then the seeking press of his lips before he found what he wanted and treated her to another, more gentle but twice as devastating suckle.
She was sensitive and swollen from her recent climax, and the feel of his mouth there was both a relief and a wild torment. She had a single moment of cognizance and pulled a pillow over her head to muffle her raw cries, and then she was climaxing again. And again. Sawyer reveled in her reactions, and she found he could be totally ruthless when he chose to be. He used his fingers, gently manipulating her. He used his tongue to make her beg, his teeth to make her gasp. And she gladly obeyed.
When he stood by the side of the bed, she no longer tried to cover herself. She doubted she could move. Her legs were still sprawled, her breasts trembling with her low, shallow breaths, but she didn’t care. She felt replete and wrung out and willingly pliant.
Sawyer shucked off his jeans, his face dark with desire, his breathing labored. Honey let her head fall to the side so she could see him better, and through narrowed, slumberous eyes, she took in the gorgeous sight of his naked body. Though she didn’t move, her heart gave a heavy thump at the sight he presented.
His shoulders and chest were wide, his stomach hard, his thighs long and muscled. The hair around his groin was darker, and his erection was long and thick, pulsing in impatience. She shuddered at the sight of it, wondering if she could bear taking him inside when everything else he’d done had already shattered her. She felt emotionally raw, unable to cope with the depth of what she’d experienced, of what he could so easily make her feel.
She watched as he opened the nightstand drawer and pulled out a slim pack of condoms. He tore one open and deftly slid it on, then turned to stare down at her.
She whispered, “I didn’t know, didn’t think…” but she couldn’t put into words the way he’d made her feel, how it both thrilled and alarmed her. She could tell by the grim set of his features he understood, and to some degree, felt the same. They both resented the strength of the desire between them. Mere sex shouldn’t be so consuming, so uncontrollable.
“I can feel you everywhere,” she added in the same low tone, almost fearfully because she’d never suspected sex could be so wild and forceful, to the point she was helpless against it. Her skin still tingled, her senses alive though her body was sated.
Remaining at the side of the bed, his eyes hot on her face, Sawyer reached down and cupped his hand over her sex. His fingers moved gently between her slick folds until they opened; he pressed his middle finger inside her, and his eyes closed on a groan. “Damn, you’re wet and tight.”
Honey bit her lip and tears seeped from the corners of her eyes as she struggled to accept this new onslaught of sensation. “It’s…it’s too much, Sawyer.”
“And not enough,” he rasped, then came into the bed over her.
She opened herself to him without reserve, lifting her face for his kiss. Though the hunger was still tightly etched in his features, his kiss was gently controlling. He took his time, making love to her mouth, bringing her desire back into full swing.
“Please.”
Sawyer cupped her face and stared into her eyes. “Wrap your legs high around my waist. That’s it. Now hold me tight.”
His voice was so low and gruff she could barely understand him. She felt him probing, his erection pressing just inside, burning and appeasing, and her heart swelled. She gave a shuddering sob and closed her eyes, but he kissed her and said, “Look at me, Honey.”
It was so wonderful, it hurt. She cried while she stared at him, not out of sadness, but from inexplicable pleasure. She knew she’d probably fallen in love within the first hour of meeting him. She drew her palms down his chest to his small brown nipples and smoothed over them, determined to take everything she could. His expression hardened and he locked his jaw, rocking against her, entering her by excruciatingly slow degrees. She lifted her hips to hurry him along and was rewarded with his harsh groan. His muscles rippled and tightened, and then he thrust hard with a curse.
Honey held on to him, stunned by the shock of pleasure as he filled her. He tangled his fingers in her hair and locked his mouth onto hers and rode her hard. His chest rubbed against her stiffened nipples, his hips grinding into her with an incredible friction, his scent invading her.
She screamed as she climaxed, and Sawyer, still kissing her, swallowed the sound. He held her so close she felt a part of him. He held her and kissed her until she’d relaxed and then continued doing so even as he found his own release, his hold almost crushing it became so tight.
The kiss dwindled, turning light and soft and lazy as Sawyer sank onto her. His heartbeat rocked them both, and still he kept kissing her, easily, consuming her, soft lazy kisses that went on and on.
A noise in the hallway made him lift his head. He stared toward the closed door, and Honey couldn’t remember if he’d locked it or not. After a second of squeaking floor-boards, she heard Morgan call softly, “Sawyer?”
Sawyer dropped his forehead onto hers with a muffled curse. He swallowed, took two deep breaths and said with feigned calm, “Yeah?”
“Ah, I heard a scream. Again. But I’ll assume you’re…kissing her again.” There was a slight chuckle. “Carry on.” Then the sound of retreating footsteps.
Honey wanted to cover her face; she even wanted to blush. She couldn’t manage either one. She closed her eyes and started to drift off to sleep. Sawyer kissed her slack mouth, smoothed his rough hand over her cheek, then rolled to her side. He was silent for a few minutes, and she felt the weight of lethargy settle into her bones. Right before she dozed off, she heard him murmur, “God knows I got more than I bargained for, but I intend to keep taking it while you’re here.”
And how long would that be, she wondered? Two days, maybe three? With Gabe fixing her car and Morgan checking into things, she wouldn’t have much time at all. But like Sawyer, she intended to make every minute count.
In the next instant, she was sound asleep.
* * *
SAWYER WATCHED HONEY with a brooding intensity. She’d been here two weeks now, and he’d made love to her at least twice a day. Yet it wasn’t enough, and he’d begun to doubt there could ever be enough. She wasn’t out of his system—far from it. It seemed the more he had her, the more he wanted her, to the point he could think of little else.
She’d integrated herself completely into their lives. She now took turns cooking and cleaning, regardless of how they all complained. Unlike the other women who on rare occasions had visited the house, Honey didn’t suggest they should sit and let her do it all. She didn’t excuse them from duty just because they were male. No, she willingly allowed them their fair share. But she wanted to do her own part, too.
Seeing her in his kitchen cooking made him want her.
Seeing her pulling weeds from the flower beds around the house made him want her.
And listening to her argue with his brothers or coddle his son really made him burn with lust. Dammit. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be.
It was late in the day, and a barrage of patients had kept him busy for several solid hours. He hadn’t had a chance to visit with her as he usually did. Twice she had poked her head into his office to offer him lunch or a quick snack. Even seeing her for those brief moments had brightened his day, as if he’d grown accustomed to her and had been suffering withdrawal from her absence.
He didn’t like the feeling. Never before had he felt annoyed by having so many patients, or having to deal with the occasional imaginary illness. He was known for his patience and kindness, not his lust.
But lust today had ruled him, just as it had since he’d first laid eyes on her.
Right now, Honey was hanging over Gabe’s shoulder while he looked at her car engine. Gabe had done a fair job of taking his time on the car. He’d ordered unnecessary parts, replaced things that didn’t need replacing and generally stalled as long as he could. But Honey was getting antsy. There’d been no sign of the men after her, and Morgan hadn’t been able to turn up a damn thing, though he’d alerted several people in town to let him know of any strangers passing through. Now all they could do was wait, but Honey was done waiting. She’d gotten it into her head that she was taking advantage of them and therefore should get out from underfoot.
Sawyer grunted to himself as he leaned on the shed door, watching her and Gabe together. His hair was still wet from his recent shower, but the heat pounding down on his head and radiating from the lush ground would quickly dry it. Already his T-shirt was starting to stick to his back, and his temper felt precarious at best, in sync with the sweltering summer weather and his disturbing thoughts of a woman he shouldn’t want, but did.
Honey had no way of knowing her presence here had been carefully staged. His brothers had manipulated things so that she had no reason, and no way, to leave. Between Gabe toying with her car and Jordan supplying her everything she could possibly need from town, she’d had no reason to step foot off his property, which was how his brothers had planned it.
He appreciated their efforts, but they couldn’t know what it was costing him.
Honey suddenly straightened and put her hands on her shapely hips. She glared at Gabe suspiciously while a sunbeam slanting through a high window in the large shed got caught in her fair hair, forming a halo. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
Gabe grinned and touched the tip of her nose with a grease-covered finger, leaving a smudge behind. “Of course I know what I’m doing, sweetie. Relax.”
They’d all taken to calling her sweetie since they insisted on using an endearment, and her name was just that—her name. Honey had laughed and said that at least this way she could be distinguished from the mule and the cat and the various other assorted animals wandering the land.
Today she had on shorts Jordan had brought her. He’d made the purchases to keep Sawyer from taking her to town, afraid that once she was there, she’d find a way to sneak off. And none of them wanted her to do that.
But to Sawyer’s mind, Jordan’s fashion sense left a lot to be desired. The shorts were too short, displaying the long length of her slim legs and emphasizing the roundness of her pert little butt. But when he’d suggested as much, he’d gotten jeered by his brothers, who seemed to take maniacal delight in commenting on his every thought these days.
He still thought the shorts were too short, but he now suffered in silence. Just as he did when she wore the new skimpy cotton tank tops, or the flirty sundresses, or the lightweight summer nightgowns and robe. Then again, he didn’t completely approve of any of the things she now wore. Jordan and Gabe had gotten together and figured out a list of everything she’d need, including some very basic female items he’d never have considered in his lust-induced fog. They’d also shown her where to add neccessities to the list kept posted on the front of the fridge. So now, among the items of aftershave and car oil, face cream and fingernail files had been added.
Every day it seemed she became a bigger part of their lives, and he didn’t know what he was going to do when she eventually left. Which she would. Beca
use once she was safe, he wouldn’t ask her to stay.
Honey, tired of watching Gabe fumble under the hood of her car, turned to flounce out of the shed. When she caught sight of him, her face lit up with a warmth that filled him to overflowing. “Sawyer! I didn’t know you were here.”
As usual, her eyes ate him up and sexual tension immediately vibrated between them. But she never touched him in front of anyone, too concerned with trying to keep their intimate involvement private. He didn’t have the heart to point out his brothers were far from idiots and had already deduced more than he’d ever admitted even to himself. Besides, the fact she touched everyone but him was pretty telling, like the drunk who overenunciated to hide his state of inebriation. Honey was what Gabe called a touchy-feely woman, always hugging and patting people she cared about. And she cared about all of them, that was painfully obvious.
It was one of the main reasons his brothers insisted on prolonging her stay. Not that he’d let her leave anyway until the issue of her safety was resolved.
And that was the topic he brought up now. As she neared, he braced himself and said, “I think you should call your fiancé.”
Just like that, the light died in her eyes and her welcome became wary, twisting at his heart. She stalled, her new sandals kicking up dust on the shed floor as she came to a standstill. She tried a sickly smile that made him ache. “My fiancé?”
“Ex-fiancé. This Alden idiot.”
Gabe quickly wiped off his hands and strode over to them. “What the hell are you talking about, Sawyer?”
