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Almost Naked, Inc.

Page 19

by Karen Anders


  “What are those?”

  “A job I know I can really do and, success or failure, it will be mine.”

  “And the other thing?”

  “It’s not a thing, Matt. It’s a person. A wonderful, understanding, beautiful person. You.” Walking up to him, she snagged the tab of his jeans and opened it, pulling down the zipper. “Now let me see that nice ass.”

  “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” he said with a grin and that adorable flush colored his face again. She loved that he was still just a little bit self-conscious of his nudity. It made him so endearing and human.

  He cupped her face and, feeling as if she was drowning, drugged by sensation, paralyzed by his touch, she waited. He tipped her face up and slowly lowered his head. Bridget made a helpless sound and let her eyes drift shut. Exerting pressure on her jaw, he opened her mouth, then covered it in a wet, deep, searching kiss that drove every ounce of strength out of her body and made her knees buckle.

  Gathering her up in a hard, enveloping embrace, he drew her between his thighs, working his mouth hungrily against hers, drawing her hips even closer until she was straddling him. Bridget couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t think; all she could do was hang on and ride out the thousand sensations exploding in her. Matt caught her hips and molded her flush against him, his mouth wide and hot as he ran his hand under her damp tank top and up her back. He emitted a low sound of approval when he encountered nothing but bare skin, and he slid his hand up her bare torso, cupping her breast, stroking her with his thumb.

  His touch drove the breath right out of her, and she made another helpless sound against his mouth. Matt tightened his arm around her back and dragged his mouth away, his breathing labored. Her heart racing and her pulse thick and heavy, she turned her face against his neck, the warmth of his hand filling her with a heavy weakness.

  He slid both hands up her rib cage and under her top. Drawing a deep, unsteady breath, he eased away from her and spoke, his voice very gruff. “Lift your arms.”

  Bridget eagerly complied, her breath jamming in her chest as he stripped the garment from her. His breathing ragged, he yanked his shirt free of his jeans, and Bridget weakly rested her head against his jaw, her whole body starting to unravel.

  When he rubbed his chest against her naked breasts, she called his name roughly and he covered her mouth again. She drank in the moistness of his mouth, drawing his tongue deeper and deeper, and he rolled her nipples again as a frenzy of need seized her. Inhaling raggedly, he twisted on the bed to dump her off his lap. He stood and stripped off his jeans. He undid her jeans and slid his hands under her panties. His hands splayed wide on her hips, he slowly, slowly shoved everything down, his mouth grazing her collarbone, the tip of one breast, her midriff.

  He climbed onto the bed. Drawing air through clenched teeth, he pushed her thighs open. Bridget’s senses went into overload when his body connected with hers, the feel of him thick and hard and fully aroused at the juncture of her thighs driving the breath from her. Grasping the back of her head, he covered her mouth with another blistering kiss, his fingers tangling in her hair, his heart hammering against her. Tightening his hold on her head, he wedged his knee between her legs then pressed her onto her back, and Bridget fought for breath as he settled heavily between her thighs. The feel of him was almost too much.

  Feeling as if she was drowning in the thick, pulsating sensations, Bridget shuddered and turned her face against him as he worked his way down her neck, his touch turning her boneless. Sinking into sensation, sinking into unbelievable pleasure.

  He took his time, savoring her neck, the hollow behind her ear, the sensitive part under her jaw, and then he returned to her mouth, kissing her with a thoroughness that went on and on. Dragging his mouth away, he shuddered and turned his head against hers, the muscles in his back bunching as he flexed his hips against her one more time.

  It was too much. Bridget cried out his name and arched against him, her body tightening, tightening as she clutched at his back and lifted her hips. Matt pushed his arm under her hips and shifted, then, with an agonized groan, he thrust into her, burying himself in her swollen, wet heat. His whole body went rigid, and he roughly adjusted his hold. Gathering strength, he thrust into her again and again. Bridget came apart in his arms, the tightness converging into one throbbing center exploded, and convulsions ripped through her, making her arch and cry out. Clutching her head against him, Matt locked his arm around her hips, thrusting again and again; then he made a ragged sound and shuddered violently in her arms, his release as cataclysmic as hers.

  Bridget hung on to him and turned her face against his neck, the emotional aftermath as wrenching as the release—she felt raw and was weeping and in a million pieces. As if it took the last bit of energy he had, Matt adjusted his hold, his hand splayed wide at the back of her head, holding her with such absolute tenderness that it made her throat close up all over again. He could turn her inside out, and how she loved him.

  He held her for a long time, until his breathing leveled out and she stopped shaking, until the aftermath softened into something less intense.

  Bracing his weight on his forearms, he cupped her face, wiping away the traces of tears with his thumbs. Then with a heavy sigh, he lowered his head and gave her the sweetest, softest kiss. Releasing another sigh, he lifted his head and gazed down at her, a glint of intimate amusement in his eyes. “I can’t believe we just did it in your mother’s house. The greenhouse was one thing, but this… She invited me to lunch, you know.”

  Her throat still unbearably tight, she looked at him, trying to blink away the tears. Swallowing against the clog of emotion, she smoothed her hand up his long, muscled back. “Did she? Looks like my mother changed, too. And all because of what you said.”

  “Me? What did I say?”

  “At the garden party. You asked her if she realized how selfish she was.”

  He smiled sheepishly. “I was agitated and I wanted to tell you I loved you. She was pulling you away to go talk about frivolous things and I had this love burning in my gut.”

  He shifted his hips, and Bridget gripped him as her expression altered. “Don’t go,” she whispered, her voice suddenly uneven.

  His expression turning serious, he lowered his head and brushed a light kiss against her mouth. “I’m not moving,” he whispered huskily. “I’ll stay here as long as you want me to.”

  “Forever,” she murmured.

  “Forever?” he said chuckling, and moved inside her, as he moistened her bottom lip. “I can give it my best shot.”

  She sighed and moved beneath him, caught in the way he made her feel as if she was sinking into something sweet, warm and utterly safe.

  “But, I might need a trip to New York City every once in a while and I really need to plan a trip to Italy. I heard it’s wonderful.”

  She hit his shoulder. “Think you’re pretty cute, huh?”

  “More like devastatingly cute,” he said, bending down and fumbling around on the floor. When he came back up, he held a black velvet box in his hand.

  “Oh, Matt.” She took the box and opened the lid, her breath jammed in her throat. Tears spilled out of her eyes as she removed the ring from the box and slipped it on her finger. “We’ll balance each other out beautifully. You’ll see.”

  “I have no doubt. I love you so much, Bridget.”

  She looked up into his soft amber eyes and said with finality and love, “Me, too. Forever.”

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-6331-8ALMOST NAKED, INC.

  Copyright © 2005 by Karen Alarie.

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontari
o, Canada M3B 3K9.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

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  *Women Who Dare

 

 

 


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