by Tawny Weber
Letting go of his cock, hands fisted at his sides, he stepped closer. “Show me.”
* * *
XANDER’S CHEST GREW tight as he waited to see if Quinn would comply with his demand. Eyes on his, she smiled, a slow, confident, purely feminine grin, then peeled her tank top off, tossing it aside. The movement made her breasts bounce.
His breath shuddered out.
“After you left that night,” she said, her voice soft and husky, entrancing him with her words, with what she was about to do, “I couldn’t sleep. I kept wondering if I should have asked you to stay. If I’d made the wrong decision in letting you go. And I...I ached.” She pressed her palm to her center. “Here.” Cupped her breasts. “Here. I tried to make it go away.” She squeezed her breasts, plumping them up then running her thumbs around her areolas, her nipples jutting out.
His mouth watered with the need to taste them. To lick and suck them until she writhed beneath him. “But it wasn’t enough.”
She shook her head, kept her gaze on his. “It felt so good,” she said, breathing heavier, her face flushed with desire. She pinched her nipples, rolled the peaks between her fingers with a groan that threatened to snap his control. “So...so good...”
Lying back, she slid one hand slowly down her stomach, her fingers trailing back and forth against the edge of her panties, then they dipped down, traced over her clit before moving back up. She repeated the movement. Then again. He was hypnotized, unable to move, unable to look away from that hand, those fingers teasing herself. Then she slipped her fingers under the waistband.
He moved like a shot, covering her hand with his. When her surprised gaze met his, he could barely speak but he forced the words out. “Let me see.”
Nodding in understanding, she lifted her hips and he slid her panties off, giving in to his urge to touch her by trailing his fingertips down the backs of her legs. She combed her fingers through the short, curly hair there, at the apex of her thighs, and sighed. Pinched the nipple of her left breast and arched her back.
When her fingers delved deeper, parting her own folds, he groaned and knew he’d never, ever forget the sight of her this way, her fingers playing with her breast, her hand between her thighs, her skin flushed with pleasure.
And when she came with a long, low moan he knew he couldn’t hold on any longer.
She hadn’t even come down from her orgasm when he crawled onto the bed, straddling her thighs. Bending his head, he kissed her, long and deep, then picked up her right hand.
And sucked her fingers into his mouth. He shut his eyes, the taste of her on his tongue only making him want more.
Much, much more.
He dipped his head and latched on to her breast, sucking until she gasped, his fingers working the other peak. Her hands trailed over his shoulders, delved into his hair and he grabbed them both, bracketed her wrists with one hand and held her arms over her head. He’d never last if she touched him.
She didn’t have a headboard so he guided her hands to the edges of the mattress. Curled her fingers around it. “Don’t let go.”
Without waiting for her acquiescence, he slid back down, kissing her neck and the tips of both breasts, trailing his lips over her torso, swirling his tongue around her belly button. At the juncture of her thighs, he stopped. Inhaled her scent then blew lightly across her curls. Her stomach quivered.
“Open for me,” he growled softly, glancing up at her, loving how she looked with her arms stretched overhead, breasts lifted. He blew on her again and she squirmed. “Let me in, Quinn.”
She did, spreading her thighs, giving him a gift. One he planned on treasuring.
* * *
XANDER KISSED HER inner thighs. He hadn’t shaved yet and his whiskers scraped lightly against her skin.
Quinn tightened her grip on the mattress, her body a mass of overly sensitized nerves. “Xander...please...”
“Please?” He nuzzled her stomach. Kissed one hip bone then the other. “Please what?”
She lifted her hips in a silent plea. “You know...you know what I want...”
He nodded, his silky hair rubbing against the tips of her breasts, causing them to tighten even further. “Tell me.”
Tell me.
It was what he’d said only minutes before.
Tell me you feel the same way. Tell me it’s the same for you.
He wanted everything. Her thoughts and feelings. Her confession.
And in that moment, she’d give him anything he wanted. Whatever he asked.
“Taste me,” she whispered, her voice shaky with need, rough with desire.
Shifting back, he slid his arms under her thighs, lifted her to his mouth and, with his eyes on hers, he licked her, a long sweep of his tongue against her core. “Mmm,” he murmured. “So sweet.”
And then he gently spread her with his fingers, bent his head, and feasted.
He worked her with his tongue, the light scrape of his teeth, until she writhed beneath him. Worked her until pleasure built, strong and steady, until she reached the precipice, only to back off, kissing her inner thighs, whirling his tongue around her center. Again and again he brought her right to the edge of pleasure. Again and again he backed off.
She went wild, her body heated and flushed, sweat coating her skin as she moved beneath him until he gave her what she wanted, what she needed, licking and sucking until she splintered into a thousand pieces. He soothed her with soft kisses, long, slow licks as she came down, her fingers uncurling from the mattress, her arms and legs boneless.
He laid beside her, his erection, thick and hard and long, pressed against the side of her leg, and she rolled over, straddling his chest. Stretched his arms overhead, curling his fingers over the edge of the mattress.
“Don’t let go,” she told him.
Then with a grin that promised payback, she shifted back until the tip of his cock nudged her opening. She rubbed against him—once, twice, three times—then took him in, her inner core squeezing around him.
Placing her palms on his chest, feeling his heartbeat strong and a bit unsteady beneath her hands, she seated herself fully on him then lifted. Down and up. A slow, languid lovemaking that had her body coming alive once again, had lust coiling through her system when moments ago it had been slackened.
She scraped her nails over his nipples lightly and he shuddered. His arms twitched and started to lower.
She stopped. Shook her head. “Don’t let go.”
Only after he’d taken hold of the mattress once again did she start to move, taking him deeper. Her fingers curled into his chest, her nails digging into his skin. He met her thrusts, quickened the pace with the force of his pumping hips. Bending down, she kissed him hungrily, dragging her nipples across his smooth chest, holding on to his shoulders so she could go even faster. Harder. Until once again her orgasm built.
She pushed herself upright to take him as far as she could. Spine arched, hands in her own hair, she moved her hips furiously until he tipped his head back, the tendons in his neck tight and sticking out in sharp relief. She watched his face as he came with a shout, his release setting off her own, and she rode him as hard, as fast as she could, milking the pleasure he gave her for all she was worth.
And when she collapsed on top of him, gasping for breath, her body trembling with the aftershocks of her orgasm, his hands smoothing over her back, his mouth trailing across her shoulder, the side of her neck, she knew she was in serious trouble.
Because she was the one who wasn’t going to be able to let go.
9
THE MAN KNEW how to cook.
It was unbelievable. Incomprehensible.
And totally and completely unfair.
Sitting at her kitchen table, Quinn glared at Xander’s back while he expertly flipped panca
kes at her stove.
He cooked, and he did it in only a pair of low-slung running shorts, all the better to tempt her with his washboard abs, those wide shoulders and well-defined arms. Between cracking eggs and scooping out the flour and sugar for the pancakes, he stopped periodically to refill her coffee cup. Told her stories about BUD/S training, the special sort of hell all SEAL candidates had to go through. Talked about his nephews and how his sister had loved the gift certificate to the spa. How he’d gone back and bought one for his mom, just because.
Just because.
Could he get any more perfect?
And before all of that, after the most intense sexual experiences of her life when she was a boneless puddle on her bed, wondering if she’d ever walk again, he’d carried her into the shower and washed every inch of her, including her hair. It hadn’t taken long before his soap-slicked hands had worked their magic and she’d come again, the orgasm leaving her a breathless, weak-kneed mess.
Then he’d wrapped her in a towel and deposited her on the edge of the bed before ducking back into the shower to wash himself.
Where he’d sang “Living on a Prayer.” Loudly. And so badly she’d wanted to dig her eardrums out of her head and throw them away.
She’d found it endearing nonetheless.
No doubt about it. Whoever was running things really had it in for her.
He set a stack of pancakes in front of her.
If they tasted even halfway decent, she was going to stab him with her fork.
She took a small bite. Shut her eyes on a groan.
Delicious.
Well, that settled it. He truly was perfect.
She was going to have to keep him forever.
The thought had her choking. She coughed, held up her hand when he whirled around, looking like he was ready to jump into action-hero mode and perform the Heimlich maneuver.
“I’m okay,” she said between coughs. “Just...went down the...wrong way.”
She sipped her coffee and cleared her throat. God, she’d lost her mind. Maybe all those orgasms had damaged a few too many brain cells. She was not keeping Lieutenant Xander Bennett of the navy SEALs. He had a life back East. A career. A future she was sure he had all mapped out, complete with goals, subgoals, timelines and a color-coordinated chart to keep him on track.
A future he hadn’t once mentioned her being a part of.
“These are good,” she said when he joined her at her tiny table. “I hadn’t realized they taught the culinary arts at Annapolis.”
“This is my mom’s recipe,” he said, adding a scant amount of syrup to his pancakes. Cut a piece off and took a bite. “She worked a lot so she taught us all how to cook. Said it was her duty to make sure we could take care of ourselves.”
Quinn had forgotten that his father had passed away when Xander was young. That he and his brother and sister had been raised by a single mother, too. “Do you remember your dad?”
“A little.” Frowning thoughtfully, he took a sip of his coffee. “Images of him more than actual memories. What about you?”
“Mine isn’t dead,” she said, shooting for flippant. “Last I heard, he was alive and well and living with wife number four somewhere in Texas.”
“How old were you when your folks split up?”
Her folks hadn’t split up. Her dad had left. Walked out one day and just...didn’t return. “Eight,” she said, hating how just thinking about it, talking about it could drag her right back to that time. “And yes, I remember him. I remember him leaving and I remember waiting, day after day, for him to come home.”
Xander covered her hand with his. “I’m sorry.”
She forced a shrug. Slid her hand out from under his to take a bite of pancake she didn’t want or have the appetite for. “It was a long time ago.”
“The pain of losing someone never goes away.”
“I didn’t lose him. Not like you lost your dad. He left. It didn’t matter that he’d made a promise to my mom, that he had a responsibility to me... He chose to leave. I think that’s part of the reason why I stayed with Peter for so long,” she told him, admitting the truth she’d never dared speak out loud before. Had never been brave enough to fully face. “To prove I’m better than my father. That once I give my word, I keep it.”
“What was the other part?”
“It was safe,” she said simply. “Don’t get me wrong. It sucked, knowing I couldn’t trust him, knowing he lied and cheated and would do it again, but with Peter at least I knew the bills were paid, that things were taken care of. It wasn’t until I realized that he’d never loved me, that he’d only wanted me so he could dress me up and show me off to his friends and business clients that I was able to leave.”
And she hated that it had taken her so long. That she’d traded in her pride and her happiness for security.
“The more I know about him,” Xander said in a quiet, dangerous tone, “the more I want to meet him.”
She smiled. “More like you want to practice a few of those deadly ninja SEAL moves on him.”
“I’d say he deserves it, but he already got what he deserved.”
“What’s that?”
“He lost you.”
Oh. My.
She’d been right, back in her bed, when she’d been reeling from their lovemaking. She wasn’t going to be able to let him go.
Not without her heart breaking in the process.
* * *
QUINN GOT QUIET, the expression on her face, in her eyes, setting Xander back.
“You okay?” he asked, wondering why she looked so freaked out suddenly. So frightened.
She smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Fine.” Standing quickly, she grabbed her mug and walked to the counter, poured more coffee into it even though it was already mostly full. “You know, it just occurred to me that I’m monopolizing quite a bit of your time.”
His eyes narrowed. Shit. He didn’t like the sound of this or the way she wouldn’t meet his eyes, how her tone had a “this is the end” quality to it.
This wasn’t the end of them. Not by a long shot.
“I’m where I want to be,” he told her quietly. Honestly. “Who I want to be with.”
If anything, that made her look more panicked. “Your mother is probably wondering why you’re not around more. And your sister. And Zane,” she added, her voice rising as if the louder she spoke, the truer it would make her words. “I’m sure you don’t get back to town very often. This is a chance for you to see your brother or your friends.”
“My mom isn’t wondering anything.” He’d already been to more family dinners this trip then he had in the past five years combined. “She’s fine. Kerri’s fine and Zane’s busy with his own life.” Truth be told, Zane had done his own disappearing act, showing up for meals or the occasional drop-in at their mom’s then taking off again. “And I just saw my friends at the reunion registration. Will be with them at the parade and the reunion.”
But the reunion was coming up quickly, which meant his time in Little Creek and his time with Quinn was ending.
“Come with me,” he said.
“I’m not big on parades. Besides, the reunion committee already asked me to get my homecoming crown out of storage and play queen again. I declined.”
“Not the parade.” He didn’t even want to think about the parade—or that giant panther float. “The reunion. Come with me.”
He wanted her with him. Not to win some challenge, but because he’d be leaving soon afterwards and he wanted her by his side before he did. Wanted to spend as much time with her as possible.
“I’m working that night,” she reminded him.
“Then I’ll skip the reunion. Spend the night with you at Myer’s.”
“You can’t skip it. Yo
u and Zane are the guests of honor.”
He shrugged. “Zane’ll be there. They don’t need both of us.”
“I’m pretty sure they do. And won’t Zane be upset if you don’t show?”
“He won’t care.”
He’d kick Xander’s ass—deservedly—but it’d be worth it.
She shifted. Set her cup down. Picked it up again. “Look, this has been great—”
“This?”
“Yeah. You. Me.” She waved between them. “This. But we both have so much going on right now—you with your family and friends and all the reunion activities and me with my job and studies...” This time she set her cup down with a decisive snap. “I think it’s best, for both of us, if we...back up a little bit. Slow down.”
“No.”
“Excuse me?”
“No, it’s not best. For either of us.”
She sent him a flinty look. “I know what’s best for me.”
“This isn’t.” He stood, crossed to her and took her gently by the shoulders. “Don’t try to end this, Quinn. End us.” He grinned down at her, rubbed his thumbs over her skin. “Things are just getting interesting.”
She rolled her eyes then snorted out a laugh. “Okay, I’ll give you that. But as interesting as it’s become, it’s still temporary. And I don’t see the point in dragging it out.”
The point was giving him time so he could persuade her to make it not so temporary. For him to convince her to give them a chance at making this work. Building something real and long-lasting between them.
But he couldn’t tell her that. She was too gun-shy. Was already trying to push him away. If he moved too fast, if he asked for too much, too soon, she’d bolt.
He settled one hand on her hip and brushed her hair aside with the other so he could press his mouth to the side of her neck. “The point is that I’m not ready to let you go. I haven’t gotten my fill of you,” he murmured. “There are still so many things I want to do to you. So many ways I want to have you.”
He darted his tongue out, tasting the saltiness of her skin, and she shivered and grabbed his waist. Pulled him closer, his growing erection nestled against the softness of her belly. “I suppose I could let you hang around another day or two. Just until you run out of ideas.”
