Coming In Hot (Jupiter Point Book 6)

by Jennifer Bernard

  Her skin twitched and jumped. She turned to look at him, her hair a wild tangle across her back, her eyes a deep, mysterious blue. And he couldn't wait another moment. He took his cock into his fist and rolled on a condom, then nudged her opening with the tip. The soft heat made his eyes close in pleasure. He groaned, a deep bomb of a sound that seemed to rip from his chest.

  Her flesh gave way easily, so slick and lubricated from her climax. Her channel still fluttered from the aftereffects, or maybe a new orgasm was coming. She was panting again, pushing against him, urging him onwards.

  "Nice and slow," he said in a tight voice, almost as much to himself as to her. "Nice and easy. God, you feel good. Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are, bent over like that? I want to fuck you so hard."

  "Do it. Fuck me hard. Don't hold back."

  Was that really his civilized art history teacher talking? She didn't know what she was saying. He had to hold back. If he unleashed all the emotion and heat inside him, this whole room would be obliterated.

  "Nice and easy," he repeated, almost like a mantra, as he slid farther in, parting her sweet inner flesh like butter.

  "Harder," she urged. "I want it harder."

  "You don't really mean that."

  "I do. I mean it, Tobias. Let off the brakes. Go wild. Wild and dirty and--" She broke off with a gasp as he flexed his hips and buried himself deep. The satisfaction of that one stroke sent shudders up his spine. "Oh Caro. Fuck, that feels good."

  She gave a strangled moan of agreement. He checked to see if she was still okay. Judging by the rapturous expression on her face, she absolutely was. So he let his primitive need for her take over. He stroked deep, his pace dominated by the frantic desire chasing through his being. He was barely aware of the speed and friction generated by his thrusts. It all fused into a blur of sensation. He kept an eye on Caro, watching closely for any sign that he was going too hard, too intense.

  But the only sounds he heard from her were whimpers and moans and the occasional, Oh my God, Tobias. So good, Tobias. So he let his last bit of restraint disappear. He roared as he claimed her body with a fierce, incinerating passion. And once again, time disappeared. Only the glorious now existed, the smell of sex, the slap of flesh, the breathtaking arch of her spine, the fall of her hair, the sensation of velvet heat sliding against his cock, the tight grip of her inner muscles. He used his hands on her hips to bring her tighter, harder against him. So good, so good.

  He felt the exact moment when she went rigid and clenched around his erection. Adrenaline shot up his spine, sheer blinding excitement turning the world fuzzy around the edges. His balls tightened. He took one more deep stroke into her fluttering channel and exploded into an orgasm that nearly stopped his heart. He rode it like the downward plunge of a rollercoaster, with an inward howl of elation.

  He closed his eyes and saw stars expanding all around him, bright points of light in every direction. He became free-floating, weightless the way he sometimes felt in a chopper or the Cessna. A feeling of peace saturated him, body and soul. Nothing could harm him. Everything was as it should be.

  He drifted, mindless and complete.

  And in the timeless space that followed, he heard a whisper he hadn't heard in years.

  Tobias, the voice said. You're going to be all right, son. Just a fall. Anyone can fall. The true test is when you get back up.

  The memory came back to him in pieces. He'd fallen out of a tree; he was always falling. Because he loved to climb things, that was why. He climbed and he fell, that was the story of his childhood. He tested limits no one else wanted to touch. And for good reason, because he always ended up on his ass.

  That time, he'd dropped like a stone from the old oak tree behind their house, near the creek. Ben had fled to tell Dad, who'd dropped his woodcarving project and come running.

  Reminds me of my last mission, he'd told Tobias as he gently checked his leg. The time I fell out of my hidey-hole and broke my leg. The guys had to haul me out on some tree branches tied together. They trekked two miles like that, under enemy fire. Hurt like the devil, but I couldn't cry about it, could I? Okay, son, want to try standing up?

  Of course he couldn't let on how much it hurt after that story. So he'd gritted his teeth and stood up. He'd allowed his father to help him back to the house, declining Ben's enthusiastic offer to make him a gurney out of his drumsticks. He'd limped home and insisted everything was fine. He'd ignored the nagging pain for weeks, until he'd fallen off a dirt bike and really broken his leg. Turned out he'd been suffering from a fracture the entire time.

  You're going to be all right, son. The true test is when you get back up.

  "HEY. TOBIAS. ARE YOU OKAY?"

  He blinked his eyes open and looked at his surroundings with utter confusion. He must have fallen asleep and dreamed about that long-ago incident. It had felt so real, as if he were there. But now he was lying on Caro's couch, her soft body nestled against his.

  "Hi." He struggled to wake up, but she put a gentle hand on his chest to prevent him.

  "You conked out. You must be exhausted. All that croquet, you know. It's such good exercise."

  Croquet. Christmas. Carolyn. Right. He settled his hand on her hip, the feel of her skin grounding him.

  "And by croquet, I actually mean hot sex on my couch."

  Hot sex. Yeah, it was. No argument there. But somehow he didn't like the way she put it. As if it didn't mean anything beyond that. He'd just experienced something out of this world—almost like traveling back in time—and she was talking about "hot sex" in that lighthearted tone.

  He rubbed the heel of his hand across his eyes, trying to clear his thoughts. "I remembered something, some random moment with my father after I'd fallen out of a tree."

  She lifted her head, eyebrows raised. "That's what you were dreaming about? You really are a romantic."

  "Sorry," he said with a grimace. "I guess my unconscious is a callous unromantic bastard. I'll have a talk with it."

  She tangled one finger in the dark swirl of hair on his chest. "I'm just teasing. That memory must be important to you. Maybe you remembered it for a reason."

  The pieces fell into place, like the tumblers of a lock. "Shit. You're right. My dad was talking about one of his missions. He was a sniper, that was his expertise. He fell out of a blind and broke his leg, he had to get carried two miles to safety. And you know what? I think one of those guys might have gotten killed during the trek. I vaguely remember something about that. Damn. I have to call Will."

  Again he tried to get up, and again she stopped him. "It's four in the morning. I think it can wait."

  Reluctantly, he lay back down. Impatience burned through him. Now that Caro had pointed it out, he had no doubt that he'd remembered that moment for a reason. It was a clue, especially when considered along with the way his dad's head had possibly been pointing toward his medals.

  "You know," he said softly. "It's damn handy having a professor around. Good thinking there."

  "Hey, any time. Even though my specialty is art history, I'm more than happy to lend a hand with murder investigations." With a light touch, she smoothed her palm across his chest.

  "I really want to find the bastard who did it." Strangely, that thought came almost as a surprise.

  "Of course you do."

  "No, it's…what I mean is that sometimes I forget that someone actually physically killed him. I get so caught up in my own guilt about the fight we had, and how I always pushed him, always challenged him. I was such a nightmare of a son. I think about that, and how I could have made life so much easier for him, that I forget someone actually killed him."

  His chest tightened as if an iron vise had come around it. He couldn't breathe for a minute. Emotion hammered at his throat, as if clawing to get out.

  But he wouldn't let it. That wasn't what Tobias Knight was about. Not Robert Knight's son. Hurt like the devil, but I couldn't cry about it, could I?

  His blood pou
nded in his ears. He fixed his gaze on the ceiling, noting a discoloration in the plaster. He should repair that for Carolyn. It could mean a leak. He'd go up on her roof and make sure the tiles were solid, maybe a replace a few if they needed it.

  Eventually he became aware of Carolyn's soft hand stroking his chest, soothing him back to the present. "Sorry," he muttered. "I don't know what's wrong with me. Must be all the tryptophans in that turkey. That stuff ought to be regulated."

  "Maybe, or maybe it's the healing power of sex with the golden goddess." She tickled his ribs, somehow homing in on one of his most sensitive spots. He produced a sound somewhere between a giggle and a shriek.

  "Oh my God." She sat bolt upright. "What was that?"

  "That's what happens when people tickle me."

  "That was the most unmanly sound I've ever heard."

  He grinned at her. "Is that supposed to be an insult? I'm pretty confident in my manliness, no matter what sounds I make."

  "So you knew about this?"

  "You've met my brothers. Do you think I could have grown to adulthood without getting tickled? Actually, my sister Cassie was the champion tickler. She could make me cry real tears. It was pathetic."

  "Can I do it again?"

  "Have at it." He lifted his arm to give her access to his ribs. She tickled him again, and once again he let out that unearthly sound. But this time, he also clamped her hand against his side and rolled over so he was braced on top of her.

  "By the way, I also learned a few anti-tickling tricks, just to survive." He dropped a kiss on her lips. "I never knew they'd come in so handy."

  She nipped at his bottom lip in revenge for being pinned. "You know I could figure out a way to kill you if I had to. Or at least maim you."

  "I know, you're a badass peace warrior. But why would you want to maim the man who's going to give you your next thousand orgasms?"

  "A thousand?" she said faintly. "Tonight?"

  "I'm thinking we should spread them out. Maybe five tonight, then we'll go from there."

  "Five? That's a little overconfident, don't you think? Quite honestly, I'm thrilled if a man gives me one orgasm. I knew I got involved with you for a reason."

  He paused for a microsecond, that discordant note striking again. But then her laughing eyes and sheer naked loveliness blotted out everything else. Just enjoy this, Tobias. Why not? "I've mentioned how I like to test limits, right? Brace yourself, professor."

  22

  Carolyn knew perfectly well that she'd been born with a willful streak. The Light Keepers had tried their best to conquer it, but the rebellious side of her, that part that insisted on making her own decisions, refused to give in. Even when she was a kid, she was notoriously curious. There was the incident with Pete Broussard, when they'd snuck into the barn and shown each other their secret parts. The Broussards had left the compound shortly after that, and she'd always felt guilty since it had been her idea, not his.

  Until the age of about twenty, she'd assumed that her curiosity was a grave mark against her character. It led her to do naughty things like look at Pete's male parts, and even touch her own self late at night. Only once she'd left the compound did she learn that her desire for sexual exploration made her normal, not a freak. One stolen moment in a barn and a few exploratory touches didn't exactly add up to depravity.

  On the other hand, this thing with Tobias…hoo-boy. If the compound had any clue what she and Tobias were up to, they'd say she was going straight to hell for ten eternities.

  The heat the two of them generated practically set her house on fire. He only had to look at her in that certain way, with that slow-burning smolder, that promise of mind-melting ecstasy, for the spark to flare deep in her belly. She threw herself into this "hot sex" thing, no holds barred.

  The time they spent apart—while he flew shifts at Knight and Day and she settled back into her house and prepared for the spring semester—dragged at a glacial pace.

  New Year’s Eve came and went. They never made it to the big champagne party at the observatory everyone else attended. Instead, they spent the night in bed. Soon the spring semester would start and she’d be too busy to spend so much time with Tobias. But for now, she reveled in it.

  Something about his bad-boy exterior paired with his rock-solid heart made all her inhibitions fall away. She felt free to do absolutely anything with him, because his acceptance was absolute. He didn't judge her at all, the opposite, in fact. His only desire was for her to enjoy herself. He was constantly monitoring her to make sure she was, to make sure he wasn't pushing her too far. That made her feel utterly safe and let loose all kinds of secret fantasies she hadn't known she had.

  Like melted chocolate.

  Who knew melted chocolate could give her the best orgasm of her life? It started with a blindfold, then the slow removal of all her clothes. When she was completely naked, he led her by the hand through her house to the kitchen. Even walking naked like that had a wild effect on her. She felt both vulnerable and powerful, because he kept whispering in her ear how sexy she was.

  In the kitchen, the smell of melted chocolate made saliva spring to her mouth. She licked her lips, a gesture she knew turned him on. He growled in response and squeezed her ass. Her arousal ticked up another notch.

  He turned her so she felt something against her back. The kitchen counter.

  "I've had this obsession with countertops ever since Evergreen," he growled. "Lean your elbows back on the counter, please."

  The 'please' always felt pro forma, as if both of them knew she'd do it with or without the please. Still, she appreciated it.

  "Anything for you, lover," she purred. He also loved it when she acted bold and demanding, which worked out well because she did too. She leaned back provocatively, pushing her breasts out. He circled each breast with his finger, the calloused surface skimming across her tender skin. With slow, torturous movements he closed the circle, homing in on her nipples, which ached to be touched.

  Even though she was blindfolded, she felt his gaze on her. She always knew when he was looking at her because her body came alive under his scrutiny. She could even narrow it down to specific body parts—he's looking at my ass, now my breasts. He wants me. He thinks I'm beautiful.

  The anticipation generated by his slow survey made her bite her lip. What was he going to do next? When?

  Then something warm and thick dribbled across her nipples. She cried out from the surprise sensation. The pinch of heat made them tighten instantly, even before his tongue swept across them to catch the sticky droplets. Thoroughly, meticulously, he licked her clean. She clenched her teeth against the sounds clamoring to come out of her mouth. If she released them, she wouldn't be able to focus on the physical sensation she was experiencing, and she wanted to savor every moment.

  The way Tobias was savoring her chocolate-covered nipples, like a cat voraciously attacking a bowl of cream.

  He feasted for what seemed like an eternity, finding chocolate in every sensitive crevice of her nipples. Then he brought his mouth, all warm and lush with chocolate, to hers. He ran his deliciously sweetened tongue across the roof of her mouth, the inside of her lower lip, generating wild tingles wherever he touched.

  When she was sticky and wild for release, Tobias still made her wait. He brought her into the bathroom, where the steamy warmth made her sigh with pleasure. He'd already drawn a bath and filled it with piles of foamy bubbles. He took off her blindfold before he helped her into the tub.

  "I got this, sweetheart. You don't need to do a thing. Just lay back and let me take care of you," he murmured. That was another voice of his that revved her up. The tender, gentle one, the voice that said I'd do anything for you, stand between you and any bullet you can name.

  Of course she would follow that voice to the ends of the earth. She lay back with a sigh in the old-fashioned claw-foot tub. She’d always loved this tub, but it had never been put to this kind of use before.

  He wrapped her han
ds around the still-warm pipes that ran up to the ceiling. "Don't move," he murmured. "Stay just like that. I swear, I could look at you forever like this, all pink and steamy. You're like cotton candy and strawberry pie all rolled into one."

  "I had no idea you had such a sweet tooth." She quivered as he wrung warm water from her big soft sponge over her breasts. Then he took her washcloth over the peaked mounds of her breasts, teasing her nipples with the rough, nubby fabric.

  "No squirming," he warned. He moved to the other end of the tub. Lifting each foot in turn, he used the washcloth to stroke between her toes, until she was rosy and panting. The movement of the water sent soap bubbles foaming around her nipples with fluffy, maddening touches, like air kisses. She stretched like a cat, arching her spine so the water streamed off her in warm rivers.

  "You're going to make a mess," he warned. "No splashing. Keep perfectly still."

  "I can't." She squirmed deliciously.

  "Try harder."

  She bit her lip and stilled her body. When he put that extra bit of gravel into his voice it drove her wild. She loved following that dark voice wherever it might lead her, because a screaming orgasm was the inevitable end.

  "Prop one foot on the edge of the tub," he commanded. "I need to clean you everywhere."

  Oh God. She did as he said, which meant she was splayed open under the foaming bubbles. He worked the washcloth delicately against her folds, the warm friction sending her into a trancelike state. Then he found her clit with the wet cloth, rubbing until she throbbed and yearned for the magical shimmering joy hovering at the edge of possibility.

  "Tobias Knight, you'd better do something quick, or I'm going to melt down right here in the bubbles."

  "I don't do things quick. I do them slow." He grinned at her. At some point he'd shucked his clothes. His broad chest and rippling muscles flexed with each gentle movement of his hands. It blew her away, every time, that he could be in such complete control of those muscles, that he could be so explosive and so gentle in the next moment.