Roll's eyes gleamed with amusement. "This is about Thanksgiving, isn't it?"
"Oh, don't be silly. That was over a week ago." She gave an airy wave of her hand, managing to hit the frame of the couch. Ow, that hurt.
He picked up her hand and pressed his lips to it. His mouth felt warm and firm against her skin. Amazing. Her insides went liquid. Her brain turned to mush.
"Yeah, a week, and that's the only thing I've thought about since then. That night was the best thing that's happened to me since…I don't know when. I want more of it. Much more. But there's something I have to tell you about and I can't quite figure out how."
"Tell me…?" Delicious tingles were running from her hand all the way up her arm. Her entire body felt as if it was waking up. He ran his thumb across her palm and even that light touch sent streaks of pleasure flowing through her.
"Yes. It might mean nothing to you. But I tell everyone I get close to."
"We've been close friends for a while now," she managed.
"Not that kind of close. The kind of close where you get naked."
"Naked…" The image of Rollo naked burned into her mind. Hot lust burst into flames inside her. She wanted him naked, right now. Right this minute. Nothing else mattered, not his family, not her peasant-girl status, nothing. All her worries went right up in smoke, as if they never existed.
"I have to tell you something about my family and what's expected of me," he was saying. His expression was so grave, so worried.
"I know, I know," she said impatiently. Before, she'd been determined to stay away from Rollo. Now she wanted to hurry this along and get to the naked part. "You have to marry someone who gets your parents' stamp of approval. Which would never be me in a million years. Your mother has a list of debutantes and you made a deal with your parents, I get it. You can't marry me. Don't worry about it. Just…what you were saying, about getting naked?"
He frowned at her in surprise. "You know about all that?"
"Sidney told me the whole story. I get it. You're from a fancy family and of course they only want certain people to join the Wareham club. Don't worry, Rollo. I know I'm not the right type. I'm okay with that."
He groaned. "God, that just sounds so godawful. I swear, Bri, to me, you're perfect. This has nothing to do with who you are. It's about who they are."
Geez, why were they even talking about all this when she was about to combust from sheer lust? "Rollo, I don't care about any of that. I'll probably never meet your parents and they'll never have to decide if I'd be better off as the third chambermaid or something. They're in New York. We're here. Right here, right now. Why are we wasting time?"
Enough conversation; time for some action. She crawled on top of him and swung around so she straddled him. She stroked her hands across his broad chest, marveling at the mighty architecture of his solid form.
He wrapped his huge palms around her wrists. "So you understand what this means. It can only be a fun time. It can't be serious. Not the kind of serious that leads to marriage, anyway."
"Yes, I get it. I will never be the next Mrs. Wareham the Third." The very thought seemed ridiculous and she let out a peal of laughter. "Good thing I never thought of you that way anyway."
His jaw flexed under his beard. "Good thing," he agreed, though a shadow of hurt in his eyes made her wonder. "But there's more. I just turned thirty."
"So?
"My parents promised not to bug me about settling down until I turned thirty. They're about to turn up the heat, hardcore. I'm going back for Christmas and it's bound to be a hell scape of introductions and cocktail parties and…" He released his grip and dug the heel of his hand into his forehead.
"Rollo, it's okay." She cupped his face between her hands. "It'll be okay. That's not until Christmas. That's like, three weeks away."
"But I can't promise anything past that. If my mother picks a good prospect, and the girl is on board with the whole Rollo scene, I might be engaged when I come back to Jupiter Point. Once I'm engaged, that's it."
His tone was so resigned, her heart went out to him. "Maybe you'll like the woman they choose. Maybe you'll love her. Maybe it's not so bleak and hopeless as all that."
His gaze settled on her, a smile growing in his kind eyes. "Oh Brianna. You always look on the bright side, don't you?"
"I don't know. I try to. But I'm not some kind of Pollyanna, you know. Bad things happen. I'm sorry you're in this situation. But it has a bright side, too. You want to have access to your family money and use it for good things. At least that's what your sister says. Was she making that part up?"
"No, she wasn't making that up." He laughed, sounding strained. He curled his hand around her upper thigh. Its warm weight sent a shot of arousal to her lower belly.
"Good," she managed. "That's…good."
"The ball's in your court now," he murmured. "I'm here, I want you, but if this doesn't sit right with you, I get it. You just tell me and we'll stop. We'll go back to being friends. I don't want to lose that."
He moved his thumb gently across her inner thigh, and she had no more desire to talk.
18
She placed her hands on his shoulders and lowered her mouth to meet his. He tilted his head back to welcome her touch. As soon as her lips brushed his, the sweetest sensation spread through her. His kiss tasted like wine and destiny, like a dream she'd never quite allowed herself to have.
He stroked her back with a kind of slow appreciation. He was so tactile, so reverent. The way he savored the contours of her form made her feel beautiful in a way she wasn't used to. It was a heady experience. Is this what most women felt when men made love to them? Treasured and cherished? There was nothing casual in Rollo's touch. It was intent, focused, sensual.
And it sent deep tremors shuddering through her body.
"Take off your sweater," he whispered.
"Wait." She sniffed the air.
"Wait?" He groaned. "For what?"
"Little green balls. They're burning."
He threw his head back and laughed, then rose from the couch and carried her into the kitchen. He turned off all the burners and covered the pan of Brussels sprouts.
"I'm not about to let any vegetable ruin this moment. Especially that one."
"We really need to talk about your bias against Brussels sprouts." She buried her head in his shoulder as he whisked her down the hall. This was the second time Rollo had carried her somewhere, and she really, really liked it. Even though she was small, she was plenty strong and not one bit fragile. But in his arms, she felt as light as a girl. Or rather, a grown woman about to be ravaged.
Because "ravaging" was written all over his face as he set her onto the king-size mattress on the floor.
He pulled his sweater over his back, his t-shirt riding along with it. As he extracted himself from his tangle of clothing, Brianna devoured the sight of his bare chest. Sweet Lord in heaven, his muscle tone. The sheer size of him, the deep ridges of sinew and bone. He was absolutely shredded. She'd always thought of him as a big bear-like man, but that didn't really describe what she was looking at right now. This man was supremely fit, a work of art carved from hard manual labor in the forests of America.
"Wow," she breathed. "Rollo, I knew you were strong, but geez."
She peered at the pendant dangling against his chest. "What is that around your neck?"
"Bear tooth. Found it in Alaska at my very first fire."
"Why do you wear it?"
His pectorals flexed as he tossed his sweater on the floor. "So I don't forget who I am or what's important. Why is your sweater still on?"
She shivered as she sat up and tugged her own sweater off her body. She'd worn her best bra, a lacy little pushup number that Suzanne had given her for her birthday. Only Suzanne could get away with a gift like that.
When Rollo's eyes darkened, she reminded herself to thank Suzanne. She wasn't the bustiest person on the planet, but the bra managed to plump her breasts together enough t
o disguise that fact.
Based on Rollo's reaction, it worked better than she could have dreamed. He knelt down on the floor before her and skimmed his big hands up the sides of her torso. Such a light, restrained touch, especially compared to the heat in his gaze. When he reached her breasts, he cupped them and slid his thumbs under the edge of her bra. Sharp, sweet sensation sparkled across her skin. She let her head drop back as he played with her breasts, flicking his thumbs across her nipples, lowering the edge of her bra to expose her flesh.
"You're just as perfect as I imagined," he murmured. "Your nipples are the color of rose hips. God, I want to taste them."
She arched her back to encourage that plan. He lowered his head to her breasts. His soft beard brushed against her chest, a teaser for the next onslaught of pleasure. Warm, wet, firm, his tongue swirled around one nipple, tugging blood to the surface.
"Oh God," she whimpered, pushing her chest forward so he could get more of her in his mouth. It felt so incredible, bolts of electric current zipping to her core. She might come just from the way he licked her nipples.
When he was finished arousing the first nipple, he transferred his attention to the other, and this time the pleasure seemed even deeper. It reached all the way between her legs, stirring her arousal into red alert. She wanted him there, inside her, and opened her thighs to show him what she needed.
He got the point.
"Jeans," he growled, undoing his belt. "Get them off before I rip them off."
Her arousal spiked even higher. Rollo the “nice guy” was nowhere to be seen. This was Rollo the “I'm in charge and I want you” guy.
She loved this side of him.
She squirmed out of her jeans and pushed them down her legs. Rollo did the same, bending over to rid himself of his pants. That meant she didn't get a really good look at the full Rollo picture until he stood back up, stark naked. Fully aroused. Breathtaking and stupendous.
His erection jutted from his body. It was built on the same scale as the rest of him, so—a bit intimidating. Thick and solid, its smooth head yearning toward her.
"Do you have…" She swallowed hard. "Protection?"
"In a minute." He fisted himself, drawing his hand down the length of his soaring penis.
Her mouth watered.
He climbed onto the bed and spread her out underneath him. "First, I want to taste you. All the hidden places I've been wondering about. Just lie still, okay?"
She nodded helplessly. His gruff voice sent so many thrills and chills through her, she couldn't control her trembles. And that was before he put his mouth on her. He started in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent.
"This is where that Brianna fragrance comes from," he murmured. "It's been driving me crazy. Even when we were just friends, I'd get a whiff of this scent and get turned on."
"I'm not wearing anything. I never do."
"I know. This is all you, no one could ever manufacture it. I smell rose petal and moss and oak leaves and a deep lake sparkling in the sunshine."
Brianna, who was more pragmatic than poetic, frowned at that description. "That lake probably has algae."
"Shhh. Don't rain on my parade. You smell amazing, and always exactly like yourself. And it's a fucking turn-on. Like here." He licked his way down her arm to the inside of her elbow. "Here, I smell an extra dash of cinnamon and maybe pear." He swirled his tongue across her skin in slow spirals.
The pleasure was so acute, she pressed her legs together, knowing that moisture was seeping from her.
"You're making that up," she gasped. "How could I possibly smell like pear? That doesn't even make sense."
"The nose knows. Don't ask me how. I'm not a perfume-maker. I'm just a guy who loves how you smell." He shifted away from her arms, back to her body. Placing his hands on her thighs, he gently pushed them apart. She didn't resist, even though he was about to witness the effect his words and touch had on her.
He touched her sex gently. "So wet," he murmured. "Already."
"Already? We've been doing this for hours," she moaned. "Days."
He laughed. "Getting impatient?" He drew his finger along her seam, causing more of her intimate juices to appear. His finger was so long, so skilled, so thick. God, it was like a magic wand casting a spell on her.
With a soft moan, she widened her legs even farther.
"Oh sweetheart," Rollo murmured. "You're so perfect. My God."
Perfect was so far from what she was, but she wasn't even really listening anymore. She was lost in a wild, rich dream world of sensation. It was almost surreal, vivid images accompanying every move he made. The stroke of his tongue along her clit made fireworks explode in a purple sky. The grip of his hands on her thighs, the tickle of his beard against her skin, the brush of his teeth against the soft skin of her inner thigh…it all swirled together into a technicolor kaleidoscope.
She was babbling something, of course. She wasn't sure what and she didn't care. The only thing in the universe that mattered was the feel of his mouth on her sex. The slow drag of tongue on her clit. The clever swirl of fingers, the press of thumb.
And then she flew off the top of the world, soaring through the infinite arching sky, surrounded by the friendly twinkle of every star in the universe. The orgasm blew her apart with a violence she'd never experienced. She thrashed under his mouth, seeking every bit of the incredible sensation. He held her firmly in place and stayed with her through each ecstatic convulsion.
She landed back on the bed with a gasp, just as disoriented as if she'd actually traveled through the ether. Her forehead was damp with sweat, her chest heaving. She felt as limp and boneless as if she'd just run a marathon.
"Oh my God. Jesus, Rollo. What was that?"
"I have a feeling that was months of secret sexual tension building up." He sat back on his heels. She stared at his powerful thighs, the way the muscles bulged next to his erect penis. He unwrapped a condom, but before he could put it on, she reached for him.
"I just want to feel you first," she murmured as she wrapped her hand around the thick shaft. She closed her eyes to soak in the contrast between his soft skin and the hard organ it covered.
"Can you maybe take the tour later?" he asked. "There's that whole stored-up sexual tension thing. I have it too, and I can't take much more."
She withdrew her hand and watched him roll on a condom, an action that seemed to take forever, given the length of his erection.
She swallowed hard. As a relatively petite person, she wondered if he might be a little too much for her. But just because she was short didn't mean other parts of her were equally undersized.
He caught her glance and offered a strained smile. "Don't worry. If it doesn't feel good, we stop. I might die, but I'll stop."
"No dying. I don't need that kind of guilt." She made a teasing face at him.
"Screw guilt. It's a mind-fucker. Take it from me." He positioned himself over her, arms braced on either side of her torso.
She grinned up at him. "I definitely want to take something from you. This will do just fine."
"Smarty-pants." The expression of strain on his face gave her a special thrill. He was just as affected by her as she was by him. "I'm coming inside you now. If it hurts, you tell me right away."
He nudged her opening with the thick head of his shaft. It eased inside her slick channel, creating a sense of expansion that made her see stars.
"Rollo," she breathed, hearing the desperate edge in her own voice. "That feels incredible." She arched up to accommodate him. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. His steady slide, his watchful gaze, his harsh breaths. And then he was all the way inside and she'd never felt anything like it. She'd never felt so close to another person, so filled up and consumed.
"You okay?" he asked her in a low voice, more like growl.
"Oh my God, so okay."
He moved inside, long and hard, like an ocean swell breaking over her. And then she couldn't talk anymore. All she knew w
as him—his hard, warm body surrounding her, his length inside her, his breath in her ear, urgent, rough whispers about how beautiful she was, how amazing it felt, how he wanted to hear her scream in ecstasy, come apart in his arms.
And she did. She shattered under that big body of his. She wasn't an inhibited person in general, never one to hide what she felt. But with him, she didn't have a single drop of restraint. She babbled, she whimpered, she wrapped her legs around his hips, urging him onwards, harder, faster, more. And when he finally tensed in orgasm, his body going rigid above her, the emotion that swept through her triggered something almost like another orgasm. Something soul-shaking and world-changing.
Something slightly terrifying, if she thought too much about it.
Which she didn't, because she was too busy collapsing into a heap of satisfied female.
He lowered himself next to her—still being careful, she noticed—and rolled onto his back. He kept one hand on her hip, his thumb running lightly along her still sensitized skin. It was a soothing, hypnotic touch that lulled her into a sweet state of drowsy contentment.
Thoughts meandered through her head like aimless fish…koi maybe. Right, she was supposed to focus on the koi. But she hadn't. She'd gone to bed with a man she couldn't be with, couldn't marry. They had three weeks until he went back to his own world, where she couldn't follow.
Doesn't matter. She shoved aside the reality check trying to rain on her parade. So what if it was just for a short time? Everything was, if you thought about it.
She'd just enjoy this thing to the max, for as long as it lasted. No regrets.
19
Rollo couldn't stop petting Brianna, as if she were a cat. The delicate skin just inside her hipbone had an intoxicating effect on him. He couldn't make himself draw his hand away. And that was just for starters. All the sensory impressions from the evening kept overloading his brain. The suppleness of her spine as she arched under his thrusts. The tender whiteness of the skin that didn't get exposed to the sun, contrasting with the golden apricot of the skin that did. The way she abandoned herself to pleasure without hesitation. Her whimpers, her moans, her babbling.
Into the Flames (Jupiter Point Book 3) Page 12
