by Rachel Lee
A man she wanted as she had wanted no other. She tipped her head up, seeking his kiss, and met his dark gaze.
“Be sure,” he murmured and closed his eyes briefly. “Please, just be very sure. Because I’m not going to be able to stop myself again.”
Music to her ears, especially after last night.
“I’m sure. I’ve never been surer of anything.”
Chapter 10
“I want to make slow love to you,” he murmured, lifting his hand to brush her hair back from her face, to caress her cheek. “I want to take hours and hours exploring you.”
The desire that almost never stopped simmering in her around Jerrod turned instantly into an arrow that pierced her very center. Internal muscles tightened, nearly cramping with the need those words unleashed. She had never heard any man say such sexy words to her. Hours and hours? Make slow love?
Oh, yesss.... Everything in her responded so strongly she felt as if a switch had flipped.
Nervousness about her own inexperience vanished completely. There was no room left in her for such thoughts. Every bit of her pounded in erotic rhythm: now, now, now.
Beyond thinking of anything else, it never crossed her mind to worry about his back as he lifted her and carried her down on the couch so that she straddled him once again. His hands gripped her hips, drawing her hard against the arousal she could feel, even through his jeans. A sense of heady power filled her to know that she could draw such a reaction from him, and she watched as he closed his eyes, and a muffled groan escaped him.
“You’ve been driving me crazy since I set eyes on you.”
She was amazed he could say so much, however hoarsely. For her all the air seemed to have left the room, her ragged breaths audible in the quiet.
He pressed her hard to him once more, then lifted his hands to cup her cheeks and draw her close for a kiss. “Feel what you do to me,” he whispered, then clamped his mouth to hers.
This was no gentle kiss such as he had given her before. He dived straight into the depths of her mouth, as if he wanted to burrow into her there, too; as if he wanted to possess and claim her.
The movements of his tongue found sensitive nerves she had never really noticed before. Nerves that excited her in the most amazing way, seeming to start a cascade that followed passion’s arrow straight through her. Her hands gripped his shoulders, digging in hard, hanging on for dear life as she embarked on what promised to be the most amazing journey of her life.
Almost as if he felt the throbbing within her, he began to plunge his tongue in and out in time with it. Her hips responded, rocking against him, but he made no move to still her. He kept on kissing her until she felt her world narrow to his tongue and the pressure between her legs.
His hands left her face, stroking slowly down her sides, causing her to catch her breath. Through the layers of fleece, she felt them as if there was no barrier at all. Big hands, so sure, up her sides, then around to her back, then to her front once again. She almost held her breath, tipping her head back from his kiss, making a silent offering of herself.
He accepted, closing both his hands over her breasts, squeezing them at first gently, then harder. A moan escaped her as she learned something new about herself. No touch had ever before seemed to paint her with fire.
But she needed more, so much more. As if realizing it, he stopped squeezing her breasts, her aching breasts, and began to brush his palms lightly over her nipples. Even through the fabric, the sensation was sharp, exquisite, like hot wires ran from those engorging buds to her very center, causing her to clamp her legs against his, forcing the most primal of responses as she tried to get closer to his staff.
She needed him. She needed him in a way she had never needed before. She wanted to claw at his clothes, to get them out of the way, but perched as she was it was almost impossible.
“Jerrod...”
“Just for now,” he whispered. “Just ride me.”
Ride him? She doubted anyone had ever said anything so erotic to her. The images that filled her head were wild, crazy. As if she was astride a horse, she clamped her legs tighter, aggravating the ache deep within her until she managed to wiggle just a bit closer. At once he rose up to meet her. No pressure had ever felt so good.
He slipped his hands up under her shirt, finding the naked skin of her midriff. Light caresses added to her torment, building the fires within her.
A groan was ripped from her. An instant later, his hands slid behind her, pressing her hips even more tightly to him. Thunder seemed to roar in her ears, her heart racing so hard now it deafened her.
Pressing, releasing, pressing...
She felt strung on a wire, held helpless by her own hungers, fearing she might never get the answer, afraid she might miss...
Then, with one wrenching spasm, she tipped off the tightrope. Who moaned she couldn’t have said. Spasms of completion threatened to rip her apart. Jerrod gave one more jerk, one that added to her satisfaction.
She felt as if she were spinning away into the heart of an explosion.
* * *
Jerrod held her close to his chest, feeling the shudders pass through her and gradually ebb. He stroked her back soothingly, sprinkled kisses where he could, and waited.
God, he hoped he wasn’t making a mistake. But even that concern couldn’t dim what had just happened. He needed to tell Allison that she was a firecracker, whether she knew it or not. She’d well and truly lit his fire. Not since he was a teen had a woman gotten this kind of reaction out of him so easily.
He’d been thinking to calm things down, so he wouldn’t move too fast with her. So that he could keep his promise of making love to her for hours. To his own amazement, he felt ready to go again, a reaction no longer familiar to him.
He’d wanted her from the instant he saw her. Only years of rigid self-discipline had kept him from thinking about that nonstop. But today had stunned him more than he wanted to admit.
Had he put Allison in danger because of his desire for her? Because maybe he hadn’t been thinking as clearly as he should have?
Though he would never let Allison know, that shot at her had shaken him. Yes, he knew perfectly well that the shooter hadn’t meant to hit her. That was obvious from the sightline and the height of the mark on the tree. But it remained he could have missed and hit her by pure chance.
Then there was his own thinking over the past couple of weeks. How much of it had been clouded by his need to be with her? He was appalled in retrospect at how quickly he had assumed she was the one at risk. He knew his own past well enough to realize that someone might be after him even now. There were some cultures in which a vendetta never died. Unfortunately, he’d given a few people cause.
While it seemed unlikely that anyone could have tracked him given the way his identity had been concealed, he knew better. A friend of his had run into it just a couple of years ago when someone with a grudge against him had landed at a nearby airport to come after him. Only face recognition software had saved him.
So why should he be exempt?
It didn’t matter now. He’d been a fool and had endangered Allison. He could deal with the guilt later. Right now he had a warm and partially satisfied woman resting on him, and he’d made her a promise. However long or short the rest of his days might be, he was going to make sure he kept this promise: to love her until she no longer doubted that she was a good lover.
He had no doubts. He’d never had any about her, but the past few minutes had certainly proved him right. She had given herself freely to the moment, and that was absolutely the best starting point on earth.
She stirred against him. “Tell me we’re not done,” she said, her voice rusty.
“No way.” He rubbed her back and stroked her hair. “I just wanted to calm things down a bit so I’d be able to take my time with y
ou.”
“You doubted it?”
“Hell, yeah. I’ve been hard for you for two weeks now. You can tell how well I was able to restrain myself.”
To his pleasure, he heard a tiny laugh escape her. “I thought you were very restrained.”
“Then you didn’t catch on to what was happening here. This was an appetizer. Being a little less ravenous will allow me to devour you more slowly.”
“Damn, you talk sexy.”
“I act sexy, too. So do you.” He tightened his hold on her. “Since I have a lot of plans for the rest of the night, how would you like to eat a little more? I want your batteries fully topped off.”
Another little laugh. “I can barely move.”
“My point exactly.” He squeezed her. “If you want to stay here, I’ll go rustle up something. You sure didn’t eat much lunch. Then I’m going to take you to bed and we’re going to do this right.”
“I didn’t notice anything wrong this time.”
“Oh, sweetheart, there was nothing wrong. I just want to do better by you.”
She pushed herself up slowly then, and he could feel her arms tremble a bit. “Now, I like the sound of that,” she said, and gave him a sleepy-happy smile.
* * *
Allison followed him to the kitchen. Almost like a puppy, she thought wryly, but she wasn’t the princess sort, anyway. She didn’t need to be waited on. But she didn’t want to be away from him, not right now. Maybe not ever, as if that would be her choice.
But she firmly brushed the thought aside. Not now. There’d be plenty of time later to deal with fallout. Right now she wanted to live in the magical world he was creating for her.
He insisted she sit while he plundered the fridge for leftovers. A few needed reheating, and he handled the microwave like a pro. Soon they had a smorgasbord spread on the table before them.
Instead of sitting across from her, though, he pulled a chair around until they sat shoulder to shoulder. Each time they brushed, Allison felt an electric spark zap through her, a tingle that headed straight for the apex of her thighs. Man, he got her motor running.
He kissed her, cradling her face, another of those gentle kisses that so moved her. When he lifted his head he said, “Hurry up and eat, woman. The horses are kicking at the stall door.”
He made her laugh. He was good at that, and she liked it the same way she liked everything else about him.
She could feel shadows of things to come hovering around them, dark shadows, but he seemed to hold them at bay. As if he had learned over the years how to live in the moment when he wanted to. She could do with a dose of that.
She gave him the other half of her steak sandwich and ate chicken marsala herself along with the remains of the salad. Her senses remained heightened, and everything tasted exquisite. But nothing could compare to the interlude on the sofa. Impatience built in her, but he was determined that she eat.
Caring and loving all in one very special package, she reflected. A pang struck straight at her heart as she thought of him leaving, but that was something else she refused to let enter these hours with him. She might be constructing a glass globe of denial around herself, might be living out a fantasy, but right now that seemed far more important than reality.
At last he rose and swept everything off the table, leaving it beside the sink. Then he reached for her, leaning back against the counter and drawing her against him. His legs were spread, making a natural cradle for her to rest in. One of his hands cupped the back of her head as he kissed her again, this time deeply. His other pressed her hips into him.
“Feel that?” he said when he raised his head. “That’s what you do to me.”
His frankness delighted her, as did the hardness she felt. Heat trickled through her, then began to rise in a flood. They had begun the second act of his promise to her, and eagerness drenched her. The deep, throbbing ache began anew.
One kiss and her breath sped up, her heart leaped.
“Easy,” he whispered, trailing kisses over her face, scattering them like rose petals. “We have all the time in the world.”
If only that was true. She sighed, leaning more toward him, wanting everything she had once dreamed that making love could be. “Jerrod...”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
Her hands roamed his back, his shoulders, his chest, drawing every sensation and line of him into her memory, trying to etch it forever so that not a detail would ever be lost. The power in this man took her breath away, and feeling it this way filled her with wonderment that he could be so gentle. Always gentle with her. Like petting a lion, she thought hazily. Petting one with utter trust.
An inkling of her own power filled her, amazing her. Beneath her hands, he became as gentle as a lamb, yet she could feel his raging hunger pressed hard against her, a hunger to equal her own.
Blood hammered mindlessly in her now, demanding more and yet more. Her breasts swelled until they ached. Each movement of fabric against her skin had become a sweet torment, adding to the growing fires within her.
Any remaining inhibitions began to desert her. Growing desperate, she reached for the buttons of his shirt, pulling them open. At last, at long last, she felt the heat of his smooth skin beneath her palms, the twin peaks of his nipples, felt him shudder as she ran her hands over them. She wanted him to lose his control. Now.
Slow? Forget slow. She didn’t have time for slow.
But when she reached for the button on his jeans, his hands grabbed hers, stopping them.
“Jerrod!” She almost stamped her foot in frustration. He couldn’t stop now. Now, now.
But he pushed her away just a bit. Then he circled her waist with one arm and began to lead and push her toward her bedroom.
“Easy,” he said again.
She was well past easy. The only thing that kept her in line was the realization that her bed was only a short distance away.
Need thundered through her like galloping horses; pounding blood awakened every cell and nerve ending. Desire pierced her core, nearly painful in its intensity.
Only when they crossed the threshold of her room did he stop and face her again. Then, a crooked smile on his face, he reached for his shirt, shrugging it off.
An absolutely perfect chest filled her gaze. She drank him in, hardly noticing the small scars that dotted his landscape. Powerful chest, a belly so flat it amazed her, and all of that above the waistband that rode narrow hips.
Still smiling, he reached for the button he had recently denied her. She held her breath, staring, as he released it and tugged the zipper down. Couldn’t he move any faster?
When he bent to push his jeans down, he took them along with his briefs in one smooth movement, then kicked them aside. All that remained were his socks, and he got rid of them fast, revealing feet that struck her as beautiful as the rest of him.
Fully naked now, he straightened. His staff was hard, a small bead on its tip. Ready. A work of manly art.
“Now you,” he said hoarsely.
At that moment a flutter of anxiety hit her. She wasn’t ashamed of her body, but Lance had left her uncertain about its appeal. For an instant, just an instant, she slipped out of the moment.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” he said quietly.
Before she could react, he stepped toward her and pulled her shirt over her head. Chilly air hit her skin, a surprisingly erotic sensation, almost like the whisper of cool lips. He reached around behind her, twisting the clasp, and her bra fell away. Her breasts, freed, felt as if they were reaching out to him.
“You’re beautiful. Perfect.”
Then his hands closed on those mounds and the last of her disquiet fled. Powerful hands kneaded her, and she couldn’t help looking down. Big hands that nearly swallowed her. Thumbs that began to flick back and forth ac
ross her engorged nipples until they pulled a moan from her.
He bent, closing his mouth over one breast, sucking her into that warm cavern, running his tongue over and around the nipple until she had to grab his shoulders for support. The world spun around her and passion lifted her to new heights of need. Clenching, clenching, deep inside she clenched with each movement of his mouth and tongue.
Never had she felt so utterly possessed.
His hands found her hips, but she was almost past noticing when he dragged her pants down. Then the world tipped crazily and she was on her bed.
He tugged her pants the rest of the way off. Then he stood at the foot of the bed, looking at her just as she had looked at him. A fleeting need to cover herself vanished half born as he reached down and pushed her ankles apart.
“Spread for me,” he whispered. “Let me see all your beauty.”
Only then did she realize that she had been resisting. With effort she forced her muscles to relax, even though that was the last thing they wanted to do. They wanted to clamp together in answer to the throbbing at her center, as if that could ease it. Opening to him was at once difficult and thrilling.
No man had ever looked at her this way, taking in every inch. The touch of his eyes felt almost like tongues of fire, ramping up her passion even more. When he knelt between her parted legs, she instinctively lifted her arms, reaching for him.
But he evaded her, instead pulling her knees up and spreading her even wider. So utterly exposed now, and helpless, in thrall to the delicious sensations that were zinging through her, making her heart pound, making her ache.
She gasped as he touched her petals with his fingers, running them lightly over her, so lightly that the demand for more flared instantly in her. Dimly she heard herself call his name, but he didn’t stop this exquisite torment, those gentle caresses that promised ecstasy but refused to deliver.
Then, slowly, he slipped his finger between them, finding the knot of nerves, so swollen and sensitive now that she cried out. Then as he rubbed it gently, causing her to roll her hips with need, he slipped a finger inside her. She felt caught on his hand, needing more and more but getting only a hint of things to come.
