by Lori Foster
“No.” Hell, they’d been in the sun all day, in and out of the lake, wind-burned by the boat ride. “You smell earthy, and sexy, and it turns me on.”
She rubbed against him. “I love how you smell, too. So good, I could just eat you up.” She followed up those provocative words with a lot of openmouth kisses on his throat, down his chest.
Sitting up on his thighs, she said, “Off with the shirt.”
“All right.” Leaning up as much as he could, he reached back to snag a handful of the shirt, then jerked it over his head.
“There you go,” she whispered and spread her hands out over him, exploring his clenched abs, down over his hip bones…down to his erection.
Spencer bit off a groan.
As she moved off him, she ordered, “Lift your hips. I want to lose these shorts, too.” She looked at him, her gaze bright. “I want to be able to get to you.”
His chest expanded, his hands curled into tighter fists, and he raised his hips.
Having Arizona undress him was a unique pleasure. She rushed, rough in her urgency, and the second she had his shorts off, she stopped to stare.
It wasn’t easy, not when he wanted her so much, but this was her time, and he wouldn’t rob her of it. “You want to take off your clothes, too?”
“Sure, why not? Just remember to keep your hands to yourself, okay?”
Gently, watching her as she stripped, he whispered, “Whatever you say, baby.”
She went still, then grinned. “I like the sound of that.” After literally tossing her clothes away, Arizona asked, “Where do you keep the condoms?”
“Nightstand.” He was strung so tight, talking wasn’t easy. “We don’t need it yet, though.”
“I don’t want to have to fumble for it.” She set the box out, then turned back to him. “Open your legs a little.”
Damn. She’d taken right to this. Spencer opened his legs and immediately felt her hands coasting up his calves, then the insides of his thighs.
“You are so powerful.” She sat between his legs and leaned forward to explore his chest, down his ribs, his abs. “But you would never hurt me.”
“Never,” he reiterated.
“I know it. I mean, I really know it.” Her long hair teased over his skin when she kissed his throat, across his shoulders. “I think that’s why I can be with you. I mean, I trust Jackson, and still I freaked out today.”
God, he wanted to hold her. “I’m sorry—”
“Shh.” She licked his nipple, then took a soft love bite of his pec muscle. “I think, if it was you, I’d be okay. For whatever reason, you’re special.”
He had no idea what to say to that. Was he special enough to help her move beyond her awful past? Special enough that she could enjoy a normal life with him?
Or just special in this, in sexual involvement? Did she want to experiment? “Remember, I told you, whatever you want.”
“Right now, I just want to get my fill of you.”
And she could do that in one night? Because he couldn’t. He knew it, accepted it, but had no idea what to do about it.
For a good ten minutes, she kissed him everywhere, and the touch of her mouth, her small, sharp teeth, her hot little tongue, competed with the lure of seeing her like this. The silky fall of her dark hair continuously drifted over his body.
Her nipples, puckered tight, teased his skin whenever she leaned against him. Each time she repositioned herself, she gave him a tantalizing peek.
By the time she focused all her attention on his cock, he was damn near a goner.
She curled both hands snug around him, and he groaned.
Watching him, she stroked, and his hips lifted off the bed.
She gave a wicked smile of satisfaction. “You’re close, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” He labored for breath—and prayed she’d put her mouth on him. Through a red haze of lust, he watched her and waited.
She cupped his balls in one hand, held his cock with the other and lowered herself down across his legs.
Rubbing her downy cheek against him, she asked, “Am I being suggestive?”
“You’re being diabolical.” He shuddered as she licked him, from the base all the way up and over the head. “Arizona…”
She opened her mouth over him and drew him into the heat of her mouth.
“Ah, God, baby…” He felt the stroke of her tongue, the firm way she held him in her hand, and he knew he wouldn’t last. “Sorry, Arizona.” He twisted away.
Eyes dazed and hot, she looked up at him. “You didn’t like it?”
“I liked it too fucking much.”
“Oh.” Breathing hard, she looked down at him, still held tight in her fist. “Hmm.” She kissed him again, and he went taut from his head to his toes.
“I won’t last. If you don’t stop that, it’ll be over, and that’s not what we want.”
“You don’t know what I want.”
Slowly, he lifted one hand, and when she didn’t protest that, he cupped her cheek. “You’re breathing hard. Your face is flushed and your nipples are tight. If I put my fingers in you right now, I’d find you wet and ripe and ready. Admit it.”
She swallowed and nodded. “Yeah.”
“You want me. And I love it that you do.”
Her eyes flared a little at that word, but she remained mute.
“That means we need to finish this together.”
Again she looked at his cock. “With you inside me?”
“God, yes.”
“All right.” But she tortured him more by saying, “I’m still in control though.”
Obligingly, Spencer put his hand back behind his head.
Arizona took her time putting the condom on him. “You are so impressive, in so many ways.”
He didn’t want her under some misplaced delusion that he was more than himself, more than a hardworking guy, trying to do the right thing whenever he could. Especially with her. “I’m just a man.”
“Not even close.”
He forged on. “And right now I’m a desperately horny man.”
She laughed.
He didn’t. “I need you, Arizona. Right now. No more playing.”
Her gaze met his, and it was…profound. He felt it, whether she did or not.
“I want to be inside you.”
“Yeah, okay.” In a rush, she moved up over him.
“You need me to touch you.”
“No.” She shook her head even as she guided him in. “I just want to watch you.”
But he was big, and this way was so deep…
“All of me, honey.”
Her bottom lip caught in her teeth, she eased down onto him. Lifted again, eased down more.
“Sit down, Arizona.” Hands knotted behind his head, his shoulders, chest and abs tense with the strain, Spencer watched her, saw the heightening of her color, and though he didn’t mean to, he took over. “Brace your hands on my chest.”
She did, arms straight and stiff.
“That’s it.” His voice sounded gravelly, but he couldn’t help that. “Now put your legs out. Relax. More, honey. Yeah, let me all the way in.”
Fully seated on him, she pressed down more, grinding until Spencer couldn’t help but give a harsh groan.
“Okay, sure,” she panted. “That did it for me.”
Fighting the urge to drive up into her, he asked roughly, “What?”
“Hearing you sound all turned on.”
“God, Arizona, how could I not be?” He stared at her body, at her face. “Do you know how you feel to me? How damned good it is to see you like this, to be with you like this?”
“Yeah,
okay.” She held out her arms. “You can take over. Feel free to get as touchy as you want—”
Before she’d finished, he dragged her down to him and wrapped his arms around her, touching her with his hands, his mouth, holding her steady as he thrust up feverishly…
Her nails bit into his shoulders, and she cried out.
The second he felt her coming, Spencer wanted to join her, but instead he held back.
It wasn’t easy.
Clamping his hands onto her bottom, he helped her maintain the rhythm so that she felt every single ripple of pleasure.
Very soon, he decided, it would be his turn. But this time would be different.
And it would be important.
* * *
WHILE IN A DREAMY FOG, their heartbeats still pounding together, feeling soft and limp, Arizona smiled. “Better and better.”
Spencer stroked her hair lazily, and then, slowly, he turned them until he’d moved over her. Still deep inside her, he positioned himself on his elbows, keeping the weight of his chest lifted off her. He watched her, his hand gentle at the side of her face.
Funny, but just like that, just because it was Spencer, she realized that it wasn’t so terrifying after all.
He kissed her forehead, the bridge of her nose, her lips. “Okay?”
She felt the trembling in his big body and nodded. “I want to watch you come.”
He put his forehead to hers and slowly withdrew, slowly sank back in. She felt his strenuous breaths against her lips, felt the heat pouring off him.
In a way, it felt more secure, having him over her like this, covering her with his size and strength; it felt…protective, instead of controlling.
Without really thinking about it, Arizona lifted one leg around him.
He thrust a little harder, a little faster.
Incredible. She twined the other leg around him, too, and tightened.
“Arizona,” he whispered, and he kissed her, hot and languid, deep and hungry. Two strokes later, he put his head back and growled out his release.
It was pretty amazing. She smiled as her legs slipped away from him, smiled that even now, after coming, he thought to stay on his elbows.
Protecting her. Always thinking of her.
Caring for her.
Damn it, emotion got a stranglehold on her.
He took several deep breaths, kissed her neck, her mouth again, and looked at her. “You’re okay?”
Eyes closed, she nodded.
Spencer brushed her hair away, smoothed her eyebrows with his thumb. “I want you to look at me, honey. I need to see that you’re okay.”
But she couldn’t do that.
Tears burned her eyes, and she didn’t want him to misunderstand.
“Arizona?” Soft, insistent, he said again, “Look at me, honey.”
Instead, she wrapped her arms tight around him and squeezed to keep him close. “I never cried before meeting you.”
He didn’t ask her not to cry. He said nothing at all.
He just held her as he rolled to his side, tucking her in close, surrounding her with his heat, his size, his affection.
And to her mortification, it all boiled over. She heard the first sob and wanted to die. But the second sob came, too, and then more, until she was soaking his chest and shaking with racking sobs.
Somehow Spencer sat up and, holding her close in his arms, put his back against the headboard. He did her a solid by turning off the bright bedside lamp, leaving them with only the intrusion of the hall light. He pulled the sheet up and over them, one hand fisted in her hair, rocking her gently.
And he kissed her forehead, her ear, the top of her head while stroking her back, her hip, and hugging her.
Over and over again.
“God, this sucks,” she complained around a hiccupping wail.
“Not with me,” he said softly. “I’m special, remember?”
She laughed and buried her face against his throat to cry some more. Yeah, he was special, all right. So special that it was killing her, when nothing else had.
Finally, after what felt like forever, her breathing evened, and the wave of turbulence passed. Spencer shifted, reaching out, and came back with a tissue box. He offered it to her in silence.
After she’d cleaned up her face, she felt too foolish for words. “I’d apologize—”
“But you don’t need to.” He squeezed her…protectively. “Not with me. Ever.”
“I figured.” She snuggled in again and sighed. Her thoughts ran this way and that, but she couldn’t seem to nail them down. “I guess you’re getting tired?”
“No.”
“Me, either.” Against her nipples, she felt his sexy chest hair and the reassuring thump of his strong heartbeat. “Or are you just saying that, because you don’t want to interrupt my crying jag?”
“No.” He looked down at her. “And you’re not crying anymore anyway.”
“Pretty repulsive, huh?”
“No. Not ever.” He squeezed her. “And don’t say things like that. It pisses me off.”
“You cursed.”
Shrugging, he said, “And you cried. So we’re both human.”
Was that how he saw her excess of emotion? As just being human? “Well, I feel dumb.”
“Please, don’t.”
She frowned at him. His short replies were starting to bug her. “Not feeling real chatty?”
“I’m just enjoying holding you.”
Had to be a joke, right? Was that really how he felt? He wasn’t disgusted, wasn’t uncomfortable—
“Whatever you’re thinking, Arizona, you’re wrong.” He brought her face up and pressed his mouth to hers. “I’m glad that I was the one here with you, not anyone else. And I’m humbled, because you trust me that much.”
Trust, huh? Okay, so maybe it did have to do with trust. But it also had to do with knowing that tonight might be her last night with him. “So…” She traced a fingertip over his throat. “Do you feel up to a shower?”
“Sure.”
“And then maybe…” She cleared her throat. “This is awkward. I mean, after me bawling and all.”
His smile touched her forehead. “You want me again, baby?”
Perceptive men were so sexy. “Yup, that’s about it.”
With no effort at all, he left the bed while still holding her in his arms. “I’ll need an hour or so. But I figure it’ll take me that long just to kiss you all over, so we should be good to go.”
And he called her diabolical?
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
THE SECOND HE AWOKE, even before he got his heavy eyes open, Spencer knew she was gone. It hit him like a tsunami of ice water.
The bed, the house, the very air felt empty.
Arizona’s vitality, the energy that surrounded her even while she slept—all gone. The void left him feeling empty, too.
He sat up and checked the time. Only nine o’clock. They’d stayed up well into the night making love, and he’d gone to sleep with her wrapped around him.
Her eyes had still been swollen from crying. Her nose still pink.
Damn it, she should have been exhausted, and instead, she’d used his exhaustion to sneak out on him. In fact…had that been her plan all along? Had she insisted on the excesses just to wear him out?
Or maybe to get her fill before leaving him?
“Jesus.” Her departure could only mean one thing: trouble. He snatched up his cell phone from the end table and punched in her number—but he didn’t get an answer, and he wasn’t surprised by that. He tried her other number. Still nothing.
Throwing off the sheet, he left the bed with his mind
whirling as he tried to decide what to do first. Look the house over for clues? Call Jackson? Wait for her? What?
He yanked on his jeans and cursed again, all too aware of the yawning dread that threatened to take over. Maybe Jackson could trace her cell if she had it on. Or maybe Jackson even knew of her whereabouts.
But what if he didn’t?
The knock on his front door got his feet moving, and he bolted into the living room.
He threw open the door—and came face-to-face with Marla. Impatience boiled over. “Marla.” Regulating his voice wasn’t easy. He ran a hand through his hair and started to turn away. “I don’t have time right now—”
“It’s Arizona.”
He snapped his gaze back to her. “Tell me.”
“I’m sorry, Spencer. I didn’t know. But yesterday she asked me if I’d be here this morning. She told me she might have to leave…bounce, I believe she said…earlier than she’d anticipated. She asked if I truly cared for you, if I could be trusted—”
“Where is she?”
Marla flinched.
Damn it. He held out his hands, soothing her. “I’m sorry.” It took a great effort, but he calmed his tone as he drew Marla inside. “She’s gone, and that isn’t a good thing. She has a knack for getting into dangerous situations. The sooner I can go after her, the better, so if you know anything—”
“That’s why I’m here. Arizona said she should be back by lunch, but…” Marla thrust a note toward him. “She gave me this. She said if she didn’t make it back, I was to give it to you then, but I…I admit I opened it.”
Spencer took it from her hand and unfolded it. Arizona’s handwriting was big and bold, but perfectly spaced, neat and legible.
Marla grabbed his wrist. “She didn’t want me to show it to you yet, but after reading it, even though I don’t understand it all, well, I didn’t think I should wait.”
He nearly crumpled the note. Rage chased away the despondency. When he got hold of her, and he would, he’d… “Thank you. You did the right thing.”
Marla stopped him as he again started to turn away. “Spencer?”
“What?”
“You and I…we were never going to happen, were we?”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry, but no.”
