by Sabrina York
Thank God she smiled. She smiled and walked into his embrace and tipped up her face. But before he could kiss her, she put her finger on his lips and said, “I have a confession to make.”
A confession? His gut churned. “Um… Okay.”
Her confident gaze faltered. “I’m really nervous.” A whisper.
He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Me too.”
“Really?” she gusted. “What a relief.”
Yeah. He felt the same. “How about we take this one step at a time?”
“Okay.” She tipped her head to the side. “What do you suggest?”
“A kiss.”
“Agreed.”
He thought, perhaps, to tease her, and brushed his lips over hers with a feather light touch. But then—best laid plans and all that—she pushed out her tongue and licked him.
One flick of that pink tongue was all it took and his reservations, his concerns, his intent, melted. Melted in a sweltering blaze of scorching lust.
“Oh, God,” he said, or something like it, as he pulled her closer and deepened the kiss.
Although deepened was a pale word for it. It was more of a conflagration, a dizzying maelstrom of scent and sensation. She tasted glorious, and felt as wonderful in his arms, pressing against him, clutching him and—God help him—tugging his shirt from its anchorage so she could rake her fingers over his bare belly.
It enflamed him. He walked her backward until they hit an obstacle—the table, and thank God they’d cleared it—and he hefted her up on it so he didn’t have to stoop. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pressed against him.
“Oh, you’re hard,” she murmured when he released her lips to nibble his way to the delicious flesh of her neck.
“I’ve been hard all week,” he grumbled. “All I have to do is look at you, think about you, and I’m hard.”
“Mmm. We have to do something about that.”
“Let’s.”
He cupped her breasts and thrilled to the softness of her, that and the impudent nipple thrusting out. He scraped it with a finger and she moaned, writhed against him. But he had limited patience. And he required no foreplay. While he suspected she was ready too, he needed to be sure, so he eased his hand down, between them, beneath her tantalizing skirt, and touched her.
What he found almost made him lose all control.
Not only was she ready, not only was she warm and wet and creamy…she wasn’t wearing any underwear.
She’d spent the entire meal bare before him and he hadn’t even realized it.
The top of his head almost blew off. Both of them.
“Claire.” A growl.
She met his gaze with an impish grin. But it faded. Oh, yes, it faded, when he eased a finger into her sheath. He did it to punish her for making his soul howl, and to ready her for more. But he only ended up punishing himself. Because the feel of that tight channel, those muscles working on him, sucking at his sanity, made his eyes cross.
“I’m going to fuck you.”
It was only fair to give her warning.
But she hardly needed it. Her fingers flew to his belt buckle but honestly, even that was a torment, because she fumbled with it and kept scraping his cock as she tried to open his jeans. He suspected she was doing it on purpose and frankly, at the moment, he didn’t have the patience or the fortitude to withstand any more of her teasing.
As it was, he barely had the mental wherewithal to remember the condom.
Thank God it was in his back pocket.
Charlie released his cock and tore open the wrapper with his teeth, then quickly slipped the condom on. He glanced at her and caught her staring at him. At it.
“Oh, my,” she murmured as she took him in her fist.
“Claire. Don’t.” He barely choked it out.
“But I want to feel you.”
“Not now.” He grabbed her wrists in one hand and pinned them over her head as he arched his back and guided himself in. And yeah.
Heaven. Freaking heaven.
He closed his eyes as he slid deeper, reveling in her exquisite grip. “Jesus.”
She wriggled beneath him, probably trying to pull her hands free, but all it did was incite the beast within him. He opened his eyes and stared at her as he made the final thrust and filled her.
She gasped. Moaned.
Her expression was magnificent, wreathed with delight. Her lips were parted, eyes wide and shining with anticipation. She was so beautiful splayed before him. His only regret was that they hadn’t taken the time to remove their clothes.
He’d planned to do that, he recalled. Planned to strip her slowly.
But at the moment, he couldn’t be bothered with regrets, because she arched up into him and huffed his name on a breath and wriggled some more, which really lit his fire.
He loved when she wriggled.
But as much as he enjoyed holding her still, he needed both hands to fuck her the way he wanted, so he released her wrists and grabbed hold of her hips and began to move.
Oh, gently at first—as he’d decided. A deliberate, tormenting in and out, working up slowly to something wilder, but his body betrayed him.
Or she did.
As soon as she was free of his hold, she pulled him down and gave him an openmouthed kiss that made his mind spin. She scratched at his back through his shirt, fisted her hands in his hair and clung to his ears to keep him close.
Her passion tipped him over the edge and all his carefully designed maneuvers went out the window.
All of his gentility fled.
He growled and glared at her and held her tight as he plowed into her, faster and faster; he surprised even himself with his ferocity.
This was Claire beneath him, around him, urging him on with her grunts and moans and, yes, occasionally commands. He did his best to obey, because they were things he wanted, needed, craved as well.
Faster.
Harder.
Deeper.
Yes, yes, yes. He would give it all to her. Give her everything.
It was madness. A frenzy. A glorious unbridled ride that took them both quickly to the edge.
Her passion was high too. He could tell by the tension in her body, the harsh pants of her breath, the burn of her nails in his flesh. She tossed her head from side to side, tightened her legs around his hips, begged.
He wanted her to come before he did, and he knew he was close. So he found her clit, circled it in something of a frantic caress.
Thank God it was enough. Because a knot had formed in his lower belly and was expanding in a sphere of agony and delight that encompassed all that he was. His balls tightened. His cock swelled. His universe shrunk to that point where they were joined.
“Claire,” he groaned.
“Yes,” she said, imploring him. “Now. Please. Now.”
Oh yes. Now. She clenched him as her climax descended. Her eyes closed and a tear leaked out as she seized around him. Every muscle contracted. Shuddered. Exulted.
In both of them, at the same time.
It seemed in that moment as though they were one. Fused. In perfect concert.
And then the wave took him, swept him away. He exploded, imploded, spun in a welter of mind-blowing delight.
He continued to move, because his body demanded it, even after the tempest had passed. It felt so good, he never wanted to stop. She gloried in it, continued to quiver and quake and issue moans that made shivers dance through his body. He loved that he could give her such pleasure. And he loved that she gave it right back.
Still breathless, sheeted in sweat, he slowed until his movements were little more than gentle nudges. She smiled.
Ah. What a smile.
So brilliant. And sated.
He had to kiss her. Her mouth was slack, but she responded, wrapping her arms around his neck and clinging to him. As he was still hunched over her, he propped his elbows on the table, so he could continue this delicious pursuit. Though his body was shaking, and he
was still buried deep within her, he didn’t care.
It had been a magnificent tangling.
A wonderful first time.
But he was still annoyed with himself.
He lifted his head and offered her an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that.”
She frowned. “What?”
He smiled at her outrage. “I was planning something less…”
“Less? Less, what?”
“Less feral.”
When she laughed, her body squeezed his cock, and astonishingly, he felt a familiar stirring. Really? Already?
Surely, if they went at it again, now, this soon, it would kill him. He gently eased out and she pouted.
“I was planning this grand, romantic seduction. Not a fast and furious screw.”
“It was fabulous.” He helped her sit up and then he tugged her skirt down. Because yeah, that sight was far too enticing. “I like it hot and hard.”
He gulped. “Do you?”
She lifted a shoulder. “Sometimes. And let’s be honest, we were both ready.”
Yeah. They had been. He loved that about her. That she was honest about her desire. He had no interest in game playing. At least, not that kind.
“You can do that slow seduction thing next time,” she suggested as she hopped off the table.
“Deal.” He removed the condom and disposed of it and pulled his jeans back up, because it seemed wrong or too optimistic to leave them down while she was dressed.
She glanced back at the table with a wistful smile. And then an amused horror descended on her features. “Oh my God. Lisa is going to die when she finds out we made love on her kitchen table.”
His laugh was strangled. He pulled her into his arms. “How about we don’t tell Lisa?”
“Oooh,” she cooed. “Secrets. I love them.”
“Me too,” he said as he kissed her again, but what he probably meant was, I love you. Because he was pretty sure he did.
And then, she said, “How about dessert?” and removed all doubt.
She was, indeed, the perfect woman.
Chapter Twelve
They broke the cardinal rule right off the bat. Claire didn’t see the point of pretending that the two of them would never make it up to her room. Besides, anyone who might have stopped them was probably halfway to Austin by now.
She took the strawberries and whipped cream upstairs as she led him to perdition and they spent the next couple hours eating them off of each other. She’d always loved strawberries and whipped cream, but nibbling them off his hard, flat belly gave her a new appreciation for the treat.
The striptease he treated her to wasn’t bad either. And God, he was more magnificent in his altogether than she could ever have imagined.
Though she was shy about stripping in front of him, he made it worth her while.
She loved the way he stared at her, stroked her, studied her. He treated her as though she were made of the most delicate china…until his passion raged out of control. She loved that too.
As much as she appreciated his reverent touch, she couldn’t deny that the savage side of him—that skulking beast who wanted to cover her, claim her—set her on fire.
She could tell by the glint in his expression when he’d had enough of their scrumptious game. With a growl, and no prelude other than to snag another condom, he grabbed her by the hips, flipped her over and took her.
Plowed right in and fucked her from behind, hitting her in all the right places and making her come like gangbusters once more.
She’d never had this. Never known this. Never felt this.
He was the hottest man she’d ever met, but that was hardly all of it. The fact that he found her irresistible too spurred her on. She didn’t know how she’d gotten so lucky and it scared her a bit, because it was happening so fast. And also, because the thought of losing him, ever, was terrifying.
But now was not the time to worry about that.
She had him for the weekend and she was going to work him like the stud he was.
Fortunately, he had no complaints.
After a shower—because somehow, they’d become sticky—they curled up in her bed and rested. He wrapped his arms around her and breathed kisses on her forehead.
She nestled deeper into his embrace and asked a question that had been nagging at her since he’d mentioned it. “Were you kidding about tying me to the bed?”
“Not really.” His hold on her tightened. “Does that freak you out?”
She pushed away and propped herself on her elbow so she could stare down at his face. “I’ve never done anything like that. But…” She blushed.
“But what?”
“I read a book.”
“Did you?” His smile was wicked. “Is it something you’d like to try?”
“That depends.”
He pushed up as well, so they were face-to-face. “On what?”
“I’m not interested in anything really kinky.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Nipple clamps?”
He laughed. “Okay.”
“And no one is spanking me.”
“Agreed.”
“Oh, and I’m not doing your laundry.”
His brow arched.
“Or calling you sir.”
There was no call for him to put out a lip.
“I am really not a submissive type. It’s only fair to tell you, right up front.”
“I understand. And if you don’t like it, we won’t do it again. Deal?”
“Deal. But if I let you tie me up, you have to let me tie you up too.” And yeah. His expression was hysterical, all shocked and horrified.
“T-that’s not the way it works,” he sputtered.
“What’s good for the goose is good for the gander.”
“But I plan to tie you up and tease you ’til you beg.”
“What’s your point?”
“If you do that to me, it’ll kill me.”
She sent him a toothy grin. “But think how much you would enjoy it.”
“Men just aren’t cut out for stuff like that.”
“You’re only making me want to try it more.”
He rolled over, on top of her, and silenced her with a growl and a kiss.
She nearly laughed. If he thought he could distract her that easily once she got an idea in her head, he had another think coming.
“I love the flowers by the way,” she said once he’d released her lips and wandered down to make love to that tender spot on her neck, the one that made her breathless and a little crazy. It seemed politic to change the topic—not that she’d forget about tying him up. Not hardly.
“Mmm,” he said against her skin, his breath warm and damp. “You mentioned that.”
She gave a small laugh, because his beard tickled. “No I didn’t.”
“Sure you did.” He gave her a nip; it sent shivers through her body. “When I gave them to you. The night of our date.”
“I meant the roses.”
He stilled. “Roses?”
“The ones in the foyer? Surely you saw them there.” The bouquet was enormous.
He lifted up on an elbow and frowned down at her. “I didn’t send you roses.”
She blinked. “But… They came right after our date.”
“I didn’t send them.”
She swallowed. Hard. “And the letter?”
His eyes narrowed. “What letter?”
Oh crap. “I thought it came from you.” She untangled from him and levered out of bed to grab the paper, which she’d dropped on her dresser. “Here.” She thrust it at him.
He read it and his brow wrinkled. “Claire, I didn’t write this.”
“Are you sure?”
“Pretty damn sure.” He pinned her with an intense frown. “Who sent this?”
“How should I know? I thought it was you.”
“Well, it wasn’t.” While she was delighted by his disgruntlement that she might have another a
dmirer, she could tell from his expression that he might be inclined to belabor the mystery, so she decided to distract him.
Not that she wasn’t curious, now that she knew the flowers hadn’t come from him, but she wasn’t in the mood to think about it right now. Not while she had him here in her bed. At her mercy.
“Let’s talk about it tomorrow,” she murmured, kissing him on the cheek, then the neck, then his shoulder, his belly. When he realized where she was heading, he caught his breath and stared at her with red-rimmed eyes, as though he couldn’t bear to miss a second of this.
Which was all good and well.
And she was able to make him beg… even without tying him up.
Charlie was dead asleep when his pager went off—Claire had utterly drained him. Though he was off duty for the weekend, he still carried it at all hours in case dispatch needed to reach him. Snake Gully was a small town and usually quiet, but occasionally there was a need for additional backup. They found the pagers worked better than cell phones.
Claire grumbled at the strident intrusion, but rolled over when he turned on the light. Hopefully she could sleep through whatever this was. He didn’t like the idea of being called away from her in the middle of the night, but this was his job. If there was to be any future between them, she’d have to get used to it.
Since this was the first time he’d used the archaic device—and his brain was fuzzy—it took a minute for him to figure it out. He finally noticed the number on the display, grabbed his cell phone and called it.
He expected to hear Gladys’ raspy smoker’s voice on the other end. He was rather surprised that it was not.
“What the hell is going on there?” He’d never heard Cody bellow like that, with such a thread of fury and panic in his voice.
“Um…what?”
“You heard me. What the hell is going on? You were supposed to call me on the hour. It’s past midnight and I haven’t even had one call!”
Charlie leaned against Claire’s headboard and grinned. “Oh? I thought you were kidding about that.”
“I had to call the goddamn police station to get your pager number.”
“Did you?”
