by Nina Lane
She shuddered, slipping her forefinger into her body. The evening air caressed her damp neck, the scent of lavender swirling upward from the bubbles.
“Hannah?” Evan’s deep voice drifted out to the terrace through the closed bedroom door.
Her eyes flew open, her heart crashing against her ribs.
“I… I’m outside,” she called. “Sorry, did you knock? I didn’t hear you.”
“I didn’t knock. Can I come in?”
“Um… I…” Hannah tried to muster up her resolve, but every part of her, including her thoughts, felt loose and liquid. She hastily arranged the bubbles over her body, concluding that the soapy suds were thick and copious enough to be more concealing than a terrycloth robe.
“I’m in the bathtub,” she said. “But I’m decent. You can come in.”
There was a brief hesitation before the doorknob turned. Evan stepped in, a plate in one hand. His gaze zeroed in on her like an arrow landing on target. Energy charged through Hannah’s body.
“Ah.” He approached with a slow, relaxed stride. “A mermaid.”
“I couldn’t resist.” Hannah gestured to the valley, though the sight of Evan walking toward her was far more exhilarating than the nighttime view.
“I don’t blame you.” He paused, his gaze sliding over the frothy bubbles hiding her naked body. “I brought you another offer you can’t resist.”
He extended the plate. Topped with whipped cream and chocolate shavings, a round chocolate mousse cake sat amidst decorative swirls of vanilla. Hannah looked at Evan with amusement.
“You don’t give up, do you?”
“Not when it comes to dessert.” He pulled a chair up beside the bathtub and sat down. “To appeal to your penchant for spice, this is a Mexican chocolate mousse cake with Kahlua and ancho chilies. Decadent, spicy, and sweet all rolled into one. I had the hotel chef make it for you.”
Hannah narrowed her eyes. “You did not.”
“Okay, I didn’t have him make it for you,” Evan said, reaching into the breast pocket of his shirt for a fork. “I had him make it for us.”
Oh…
The area around her heart softened in a way that was both sweet and painful, like a melting snowflake.
Evan dug the fork into the cake, bringing up a large portion of creamy mousse and crushed-cookie crust. He extended the fork to her. She obediently opened her mouth. He watched the movement of her lips as she closed them around the fork.
She tasted almost nothing—okay, thick, airy chocolate and the pleasurable bite of chili—but instead of indulging in the cake, all of her senses converged on him. The heat in his eyes. The small but evident increase in his breath. She wanted to press her mouth against his, feel him, taste him, eat him.
Hannah lifted a soapy hand to wipe a crumb off her lip. “It’s… it’s good.”
“Good?” Evan frowned and sank the fork into the cake again. “It’s more than good.”
He ate the bite, half-closing his eyes as a groan of pleasure rumbled from deep inside his chest. Hannah shivered, acutely aware of the ache still burgeoning between her legs. The hot fantasy still flickered at the back of her mind.
She shifted, rippling the water around her. The bubbles slid like silk against her skin. Her blood pulsed.
“More?” Evan held out another forkful of dessert.
Hannah opened her mouth—not because she desired the cake, but because she loved the way he was looking at her as if he were about to devour her. At the same time, she knew to her bones that he would sit there forever and just look at her if that was all she wanted him to do.
How incredible to feel so reckless and protected at the same time.
She pushed herself upward a little, making sure the bubbles still concealed her breasts. Water splashed over the edges of the tub, and the bubbles shifted and resettled around her body.
Evan took another bite for himself and extended one to her. Hannah ate it, enjoying the bittersweet taste of chocolate followed by the fire of the chili. The steam from the bath flushed her skin, and damp tendrils of hair clung to her neck. She was warming from the inside too, the heat of the chilies seeping into her veins.
“It’s… it’s awfully warm, isn’t it?” She rubbed the back of her neck.
“Indeed it is.” Evan’s gaze moved lower to where the bubbles had slipped to reveal the curve of her breast and the hard, rosy peak of her nipple.
A breath escaped him on a hiss. He started to push the chair back. “I need to go.”
She held out her hand. “Give me the cake.”
“Ah.” He handed her the plate and stood. “I knew I’d find your sweet tooth.”
“Not for me.” Hannah’s heart raced. Despite her nomadic lifestyle, as a rule she didn’t take a lot of risks. She knew how to be on guard, cautious, watchful. She knew how to protect herself. She never ignored her own internal warnings.
Until now.
Certainty snapped inside her like a lock clicking into place. Not only did she trust Evan completely, the crackling heat between them was impossible to withstand. As long as they both knew what they were getting into, why was she resisting so hard? Why couldn’t she just take what he was offering and stop thinking so damned much?
Ignoring the fork, she scooped up some of the cake with her fingers and held it out to him. He stared at her, intense desire rising to his eyes.
“Come on, dessert lover,” Hannah whispered, her heart pounding so hard she heard the beat inside her head. “Take a bite.”
He moved forward, his gaze never leaving hers as he closed his mouth around her fingers and sucked off the chocolate mousse. Hannah gasped. Arousal bolted to her core. He curled his hand around her wrist, an unmistakable message that it was too late for her to retreat now, not that she wanted to. He licked her fingers with slow, easy strokes before sliding his tongue to her palm.
When not a speck of chocolate remained on her fingers, Evan lifted his head. Erotic tension coiled through him, leashed and potent. He stood, not letting go of her wrist.
“Are you breaking the rules?” he asked, his voice husky.
Hannah bit her lip. “If we agree that this is a temporary fling, we can have some fun.”
“Fun, huh?” He trailed his finger over the ridge of her collarbone. “If we start this, Lockhart, it’ll be more than just fun. It’ll be hot and dirty.”
She pulled in a breath. “I like hot and dirty.”
His gaze slipped to her breasts. Her nipples tightened further, as if his look were a touch. His mixture of gentleness and sheer masculinity had her both off balance and wildly excited.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Positive.”
And she was. Finally.
Hannah braced herself on the side of the tub and allowed him to pull her to her feet. Nervousness wound through her. Water and foamy bubbles cascaded off her body, and the cool night air raised goose bumps on her skin. Her nipples were so hard they ached, and she longed for Evan to touch her breasts, pinch her nipples, then slide his fingers into her until she was gasping and writhing against him. Until she was begging for more.
But instead of touching her right away, he stepped back and looked at her. No, he devoured her with his eyes. He raked his hot blue gaze over her body as if he were memorizing every detail of the soap clinging to her curves, the water dripping down her belly.
“I love that you don’t wax or shave down here.” He stepped closer, running one finger over the wet curls of her mound. “So fucking sexy.”
He slipped his finger into her cleft. Hannah gasped, her hips jerking involuntarily forward as he rubbed her clit and stroked down to tease his finger around her opening. She gripped the front of his shirt to steady herself. This close, she felt the heat of his body, the coiled erotic tension of his muscles. Though she didn’t look down, she didn’t need evidence to know a heavy bulge pressed against the front of his trousers.
“Evan.” His name escaped on a breath, and she tightened
her hold on his shirt. “I’m getting so hot.”
“I know.”
He brought his other hand underneath her chin and lifted her face toward him. His mouth came down on hers with an exquisite warmth and tenderness that was a striking contrast to the possessive way he was fingering her.
She arched toward him, pressing her damp breasts against his chest. He deepened the chili-chocolate kiss, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips until she opened to let him in. Their tongues licked, danced, tasted. His breath warmed her skin as he slid his mouth over her cheek, down to her neck.
“Evan, I’m…” Hannah glided her hands to his biceps, the pressure in her lower body expanding like rippling circles in a pond. “I’m going to come already.”
“Good.” He bit gently on her collarbone before lifting his head to cover her mouth with his. “Come on my fingers, nice and hard. Ah, fuck, that’s it… I know how much you want it… give it to me, honey…”
Hannah cried out, his words triggering an explosion of heat. Vibrations shuddered through her, pleasure peaking with a force that arched her body full against his. He slid one arm around her waist, locking her to him as he worked her clit with his other hand, milking the final vibrations from her body.
Hannah moaned and fell against him, her forehead pressing to his chest. Evan eased away from her for a second, and then he was wrapping her in the big, fuzzy robe before sweeping her into his arms.
He carried her back into the bedroom and lowered her onto the bed, his eyes hot with lust. He opened the robe and revealed her naked body again. Hannah squirmed, her skin still flushed with heat and longing.
“Kiss me again,” she whispered, twining one hand around his neck and bringing him down to her.
Evan kissed her thoroughly, resting one hand on her breast. Hannah fumbled to get her hand between them so she could work the buttons on his shirt and finally touch his taut, bare skin. She wanted to run her hands over the slopes of his chest, trace the ridges of his abdomen, follow that secret trail of hair leading straight to his beautiful cock.
Fresh excitement flared inside her at the thought of exploring all the facets of his naked body. She hastily worked the first two buttons on his shirt before he pulled suddenly away from her. He grabbed her wrists.
Hannah flashbacked to the night of their boardwalk date, when he’d also stopped her from touching him. The sudden restraint in his expression made her heart stutter. Confusion flooded her.
“Evan?” She frowned. “What’s wrong?”
Lines of tension bracketed his mouth. He tightened his grip on her wrists.
“I have to tell you something,” he said.
She swallowed, deflecting a stab of apprehension. “Okay.”
“I have a scar.” He released her right wrist and drew a line down the center of his chest. “Right here. I was born with a congenital heart defect. When I was a kid, I had three heart surgeries, both to repair it and because of complications.”
Disbelief raced through her. “Three surgeries?”
He nodded, his jaw tightening. “It’s not a big deal… the scar, I mean. I don’t care about it. Other women have seen it, of course. But before we take this further, you should know the deal. I had a rough start, went into heart failure twice, was back and forth to the ER for months. The repairs were successful and I’ve lived as normal a life as I can, but I’ve always been at risk for health problems. I always will be. My family knows it, and every woman I’ve been with has known it too.”
Hannah didn’t know what to say. It almost didn’t make sense—that tall, strong, handsome Evan Stone could have any defects at all, much less one involving his heart. His pain twisted inside her like a corkscrew.
Feeling him watching her, she took hold of his shirt and pulled him closer. She unfastened the buttons and pushed the folds of material aside to reveal his chest. As she’d known it would be, his torso was beautiful—the slopes of his pecs led down to a six-pack abdomen, and every muscle was sculpted to perfection.
Hannah pushed his shirt off his shoulders, gazing at the golden-brown skin of his shoulders, the corded hardness of his biceps and forearms. She reached out a hand and touched his smooth shoulder, shivering with tactile pleasure as she stroked across to his chest.
She ran her finger over the scar, a jagged, vertical line extending over his breastbone to the top of his ribcage. Even touching the evidence, it was hard to imagine a surgeon cutting into Evan to repair his heart.
“Does it ever hurt?” she asked. “Your heart, I mean.”
“Not physically.” He looked at the sweep of her finger back up to the top of the scar. “Most of the time I don’t think about it. And I don’t know life without it or the scar. It’s just how I am.”
“I like how you are.” Hannah trailed her fingers down to the ridges of his abdomen. “I like everything about you.”
He captured her hand as she ran her fingers up his chest again. He leaned in to kiss her. Hannah let her other hand glide to the front of his trousers, and she gave his zipper an ineffectual tug.
“Hurry,” she whispered.
Evan moved away from her only long enough to remove his pants, revealing the thick ridge of his cock pressing against his boxer briefs.
Oh my.
Hot anticipation swept through Hannah. She shifted to the edge of the bed, palming his erection that seemed even bigger than it had the last time she’d touched him. She tightened her thighs. Her clit pulsed.
“Take it out,” Evan ordered.
His husky command sparked a fresh rush of desire. Hannah hooked her fingers in his boxer briefs and pulled them down, her eyes widening at the sight of his erect cock, the head darkened to a deep red. Her hand trembled. She curled her fingers around him, the smooth, veined shaft pulsing against her palm.
When she started to lean forward, certain this was what he wanted, Evan curled his hand into the length of her hair and pulled her to a stop.
“Don’t you want…”
“Yes.” His chest heaved with a breath, his eyes darkening with lust. “But first I want you.”
He moved them both back onto the bed, raking his gaze over her naked body. Hannah shrugged the open robe over her shoulders and tossed it to the floor. A twinge of apprehension wound through her as he moved over her, his big cock throbbing against her belly. Their eyes locked. Tension stretched between them.
How long had it been for him? As long as it had been for her?
He bent to kiss her, his lips a surprisingly tender contrast to the rigidity coiling through his body. He moved his hands over her breasts, rubbing her nipples, stroking down to her belly and between her legs.
“Open,” he murmured.
Nothing could make her resist his gentle command. She parted her legs, quivering as cooler air brushed against her damp sex. Evan worked his finger into her slit, his touch still light and almost teasing. The combination of that touch and his hard, muscular body above her, his cock sticking straight out, had Hannah panting and squirming with urgency.
“Evan, I’m ready.” The plea escaped her on a moan, and she arched her hips upward to impale herself on his finger.
“I know you are.”
He shifted lower, sliding his hands under her knees to lift them. Hannah’s heart hammered, her breath coming in shallow gasps. She’d never been so aroused and nervous at the same time—sex for her had never been like what she read about in novels. It was pleasant with a frequent side of good, but it never made her feel as if she were poised on the edge of control, a bird ready to plunge into soaring flight.
“Wider, honey.” Evan pressed her thighs open, dragging his cock over her moist slit.
Hannah bit her lower lip, forcing her muscles to relax and open for him. She put another pillow behind her head, her gaze locked on the sight of Evan between her legs, teasing the head of his cock over her clit. His muscles gleamed with a sheen of sweat, and a flush darkened his face beneath his stubble. With that feral look in his eyes and his ha
ir falling over his forehead, he looked like some sort of demigod laying claim to her.
She wiggled, her breath coming faster as he trailed his finger over her labia. “Evan, I don’t have any condoms.”
A grin pulled at his mouth. He leaned over to open the nightstand drawer. “This resort is fully stocked.”
He took out a condom packet, moving away from her only long enough to roll on the condom before positing himself at her slit.
“Do it,” Hannah whispered. “Please.”
His hot gaze collided with hers as he began to slowly push his cock into her. She gasped, her body instinctively resisting the invasion until he splayed his hand over her sex, his thumb circling her clit.
“Relax,” he said, his voice tense. “I’ll go slow.”
She took a deep breath. Silly to be nervous. She wasn’t a virgin. She wasn’t inexperienced. But something about Evan—his control, his quiet but indisputable dominance, his sheer size… maybe even her discovery of his scarred heart… all elicited a trepidation that wound through her like wire.
But oh my God, the sensation of him rubbing her aching clit, his cock just barely breaching her opening, his body so hard and big between her legs, filled her with unbearable need.
“Hannah.”
She opened her eyes, her breath catching at the sight of his face right above hers, his blue eyes burning like twin flames.
“Okay?” he asked.
The wire loosened, changed into something soft and silky like a ribbon.
“Yes,” she whispered.
He kissed her between the eyes. He shifted to ease into her, and then he was filling her with delicious slowness, smooth and oh so easy, his muscles flexing with restraint, his breath rasping through the air.
Hannah pressed her head back onto the pillows. She ached everywhere, but in a lush, erotic way—her nipples hurt for attention, her legs trembled from the strain of being spread so wide apart, her blood pulsed with the sweet pain of arousal.
