Dare to Love

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  scattering away.

  Now all she knew was Jake’s mouth, the way he moved it over hers in a soft but insistent way. The way he coaxed her lips to part, sliding his tongue inside so she could

  sample the tangy flavor of beer that still lingered there. He pulled her onto his lap and his

  hands dove under the sweatshirt, warm and palming the skin of her stomach. She melted

  into his embrace, settling against him as he widened his legs.

  His erection pushed against her hip and the fact that he could be turned on—by her—

  was a heady, exhilarating experience. It gave her a sense of power, of feeling equal to

  him because he sure hit her hot buttons in a major way.

  He lifted his head. “I’m glad you came back. I’ve been thinking about you since you

  left.”

  “You have?”

  “Yeah. I can still smell you, can still taste you, and if you didn’t come back tonight I might have had to sneak into your house and up to your bedroom.” She thrilled at the thought of it. Jake in her room. “And what would you have done

  when you got there?”

  “Hopefully made you scream loud enough to bring your father running.” His fingers

  splayed along the bare expanse of her lower belly, under the waistband of her shorts. He

  cupped her sex and she was instantly transported to earlier tonight, to how his touch had

  skyrocketed her into a blinding orgasm. She wanted that again, only this time, she wanted

  him to go with her.

  She lifted against his hand, and whispered his name on a breathless moan.

  “Let’s go stretch out on my bed before I lose control again.” He lifted her off his lap

  and set her on her feet, then took her by the hand.

  He’d lost control before? She was pretty certain it had been her who’d totally lost her

  mind outside. But she liked that he thought himself out of control. She also liked the fact

  that he held her hand as they walked down the hall, that he seemed to be connected to her

  emotionally, beyond just this physical act they were about to engage in.

  When they entered the bedroom he flipped on the light. “Sorry, it’s a little messy and

  not fancy.”

  She barely remembered his room from the other night, when she’d passed out in a

  drunken stupor, then woken up hazy and disoriented.

  His room had a double bed, with a nice brown quilt that looked handmade. Two simple end tables on each side, a dresser and chest of drawers and a couple lamps.

  Typical guy room. But she liked that he wasn’t overly fussy. “It’s a nice room, Jake.

  Who

  made the quilt?”

  He scratched his nose and looked across at the bed, not at her. “My, uh, my grandmother.”

  Oh, how sweet. “I love it. It’s beautiful.” She moved to the side of the bed and began

  to fold the quilt down to the foot of the bed. Jake went to the other side and helped her. A

  simple task, yet it felt domestic. Intimate. Nothing like the GQ guys who had made it

  such a seduction scene when she’d had sex before. Their bedrooms had set the scene so

  perfectly, as if they’d done it hundreds of times before. It had left her cold. This was so

  different, so perfect. She smiled at Jake across the bed. He came over to her side and

  lifted her in his arms.

  “Enough small talk. I want to make love to you.”

  She gasped, then laughed when he pushed her onto the bed. Her smile died when he

  crawled onto the bed and lay on top of her, framing her face with his hands. His pelvis

  aligned with hers, the ridge of his hard shaft insistent as he swept his lips over hers. There

  was something monumental and heady about him kissing her, and his body’s reaction to

  that. Not to mention her own body’s wild reaction.

  Her heart jacked up its rhythm to near crazy speed. She had to calm down or she’d

  end up passing out. Again. That would be really bad. Tonight she intended to be calm and

  clear headed. Or at least clear headed. She was pretty certain calm was going to be out of

  the question, especially with Jake’s questing fingers doing incredible things to her stomach on their way up to her breasts. When he skimmed across her nipples, calm

  shredded and she arched against his fingers. He made her feel wild, made her want things

  she hadn’t wanted in…well, she’d never really craved sex before. Now she did, and it

  was the most decadent feeling to really want a man like she wanted Jake, to have all these

  feelings inside just bursting to get out.

  He slid his fingers under her bra and found her nipple. The way he watched her while

  he touched her was unnerving, and yet so hot, so incredibly erotic she felt like she’d

  combust all over. She wanted more, so much more, and she shifted to her side so she

  could touch him, too. She rolled his shirt up over his stomach, her fingers curling into the

  hard planes of his flesh and the soft down she found there. So much to see, so much to

  touch. She wanted hours—days—to explore him, to see him. Thank God he’d left the

  light on. She loved seeing his face, his body, his hands on her.

  He pushed her over onto her back again, and she started to protest, but then he lifted

  her sweatshirt and tank top off, and she understood. It was time to get naked, and she was

  all for that. Anything that would speed up the process of getting skin to skin. She leaned

  up on her elbows and watched him take his shirt off, admired the hard planes of his

  stomach, his tanned chest and well defined arms, as he leaned over her and pulled the

  straps of her bra down, kissing her shoulder, her collarbone, and the swell of her breast.

  She sighed in absolute wonder that he’d take his time with her. The men she’d been with

  before had been after the big payoff—foreplay hadn’t really been their thing.

  Then again, the men she’d been with before had been nothing like Jake.

  He unhooked her bra and removed it, then bent and captured her nipple between his

  lips. When he flicked his tongue over the bud, she tilted her head back and gasped, lost in

  the sensation, the wet heat, the wonder of finally being right where she wanted to be.

  Jake made quick work of her shorts and panties, then his own shorts.

  Finally, both of them naked, she sat up and looked her fill of him. She’d waited a long time for this, had thought about it nonstop since she first met him.

  He didn’t disappoint. He was kneeling, his legs slightly apart, and she was in awe.

  Someone should sculpt the man. He wasn’t perfect—there were scars here and there—his arms, one on his chest, a few on his legs. The funny thing was, that only added

  to the pure maleness of him. He was so…real. His body wasn’t one created in the gym. It

  was honed from daily, backbreaking work, and it showed. All that beautiful muscle, and

  she couldn’t resist skimming her palms over his chest, down his stomach, his hips.

  Her

  gaze lifted to his. He watched her as she touched him, but he hadn’t said a word.

  His eyes

  said it all—such male approval in the intensity of his gaze. She fisted his cock—so hot,

  so utterly primal. He hissed, the sound shooting right to her core. She grew wet and

  anxious and needy just touching this part of him, stroking him, feeling him surge against

  her hand in silent demand for more. She knew right then that what was going to happen

  between them was going to be incredible.

  He threaded his fingers through her hair and brought her
face to his, his lips covering

  hers, his tongue entering her mouth with such depth, such passion, that it stole her breath.

  And still, she held on to him, continuing to squeeze and stroke him, feeling the weight

  and heat of him in her hand until he grasped her wrist and pulled her hand away, pushing

  her body down on the bed and covering it with his.

  His cock surged between her legs, teasing her sex until she shuddered with the need

  to feel him inside her. His kisses, the way his hands roamed over her body, tortured her,

  made her need their joining with desperation.

  And still, all he did was kiss her, move against her, palm her sex with his hand and caress her in easy, gentle strokes that stoked the fire inside her to an inferno. She was

  going to climax—for the second time tonight—and Jake hadn’t even had his first one yet.

  But she couldn’t stop it, not the way he possessed her with masterful strokes, easy and yet

  demanding, taking her ever higher until she had no hope to maintain control. She burst

  into a fiery orgasm, arching against his hand and whimpering as she rode the flames he

  stoked, holding tight to Jake until she collapsed.

  He stroked her breasts and belly until she turned to him and smiled, then he kissed

  her, cupped her sex, and began again, sliding his fingers inside her and bringing her

  desire up full force yet again. She tore her lips from his and searched his face.

  “Jake, please.”

  His jaw was set tight as he looked down at her. But she knew it wasn’t anger in his expression—it was the same gripping need she felt. He rolled over and opened the drawer

  on his night stand and pulled out a condom, tore open the package and put it on, then

  parted her thighs as he moved between them. He slipped one hand underneath her, raising

  her butt, and settled on top of her, sliding his tongue along her bottom lip, then kissing

  her with a feather light touch that made her shudder.

  He slid inside her, slow and easy, his gaze glued to hers as he did. It was such a powerful, emotional moment. She knew she was making too much of it, that it was just

  sex and nothing more. But this whole night had been so different than any other for her,

  she couldn’t help it. Jake was special, and despite the internal warning in her head to keep

  her heart intact, as soon as he scooped her up and held her tight and started moving

  against her, it was so sweet and so tender, her heart just lost it. She was invested and she

  knew she was hopelessly in love with him.

  He shifted, flexed his fingers against her hip and surged, giving her more. She dug her heels into the mattress and arched against him, meeting his every thrust. He stroked

  her breasts, her neck, kissing her with such depth it moved her to tears. Lucy took it all in

  with wonder and excitement, exploring everything—the way he possessed her, the look

  on his face, the way he made her feel—special and loved. And maybe she was making all

  this up. Maybe Jake didn’t really feel that way about her. But right now, she was the only

  woman in the world to him, and nothing else mattered. It was the two of them, every

  other care and concern shut out. He was focused only on her, and she on him.

  And when Jake began to increase the pace, shifting so he held tight to her, pushed harder, faster, she was along for the ride, right there with him, tightening inside and close

  to orgasm. He slid both hands underneath her buttocks to lift her, then buried himself

  deep inside her. The intimacy unraveled her, and when he pressed his lips to hers, sliding

  his tongue between them to lick at hers with the softest, velvety strokes that tingled all

  over, she shattered, her orgasm bursting throughout her body. Jake thrust once more and

  shuddered against her, burying his face in her neck, licking the column of her throat and

  sending shivers along her skin to couple with the lightning sensations already devastating

  her senses.

  She floated back to reality like a falling leaf on a no wind day—easy, gently. Jake stroked her sweat-soaked body in slow, measured movements, from her collarbone to her

  neck to her hips, still moving inside her.

  “Mmmm,” was all she could manage.

  Jake rolled to the side, bringing her with him. She loved looking at him, the way his

  eyes had this satisfied, kind of glazed-over look. Did she look the same way? She hoped

  so.

  He let his fingers roam over her hip, gently squeezing, and still he moved against her, her body coming to life once again. She raised her leg over his hip and rocked against him. Jake’s lips curled. “I never took you for insatiable.”

  “Do you know how long it’s been?”

  “No. Tell me.”

  “I don’t have sex often. Hardly ever, actually.” She probably shouldn’t tell him that.

  Too late now.

  “So you’re making up for lost time?”

  She nodded. “Yes. I hope you’re up for it. I might be on a roll now.” Jake arched a brow, then withdrew from her only long enough to dispose of the condom and reach for the box in the bedside drawer. “Good thing I’m well prepared.”

  She laughed, loving that she could be herself with him. She reached into the box and

  took out a packet, handing it to him with a smile. “Good thing.” He grabbed the packet in his hand, then gathered her in his arms. “I have a feeling neither of us is going to get any sleep tonight.” As Jake took her mouth in a deep, lingering kiss, Lucy had a feeling neither of them

  was going to complain about the lack of sleep.

  Chapter Ten

  Lucy stood at the door to Jake’s trailer a little before noon on Monday, her heart pounding in excitement and trepidation. She had a bag of sandwiches and thought she’d

  surprise him by bringing him lunch. A little presumptuous on her part, but after spending

  the weekend with him, she was pretty certain things between them had changed.

  Still,

  maybe she should have called first.

  You’re being ridiculous. He’ll be happy to see you. Just knock.

  She did, and cringed when his curt “What?” followed. Maybe she should just turn around and hightail it out of there. No, that would be stupid. She’d walked all the way

  over here from her office. She was going to suck it up and tell him she was here.

  He

  would be happy to see her, she knew it.

  “Jake, it’s Lucy.”

  He jerked the door open, and her smile died. Maybe it wasn’t a good day for lunch

  after all.

  “Did I come at a bad time?”

  “No. Come in. Sorry.”

  He held the door open while she climbed the stairs up and into the trailer.

  “Am I interrupting?” She smoothed loose tendrils of hair back from her face, then took a quick glance at his desk. Papers and blueprints were spread out everywhere, and

  lots of other paperwork—crumpled up and tossed—littered the floor of the trailer.

  “No. I’m just dealing with some…stuff today.”

  “Bad stuff?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Obviously. “I brought lunch.” She tried again for a smile.

  “Uh, I already ate.”

  Again, her smile died. “Oh. I’m sorry. I should have called first. I just thought you might enjoy a little break.”

  “Like I said. It’s a bad day, Lucy. I don’t have much time for a break.” Heat rose up her neck and cheeks. She snatched up the lunch bag and crushed it between her hands. “I’m really sorry, Jake. I should have called. I just assumed…”

  “Well, call next time, okay?”

&n
bsp; Oh, God. This hurt. It was like being dismissed by her father all over again. That taciturn look of disapproval, like she was bothering him when all she wanted was a little

  attention.

  You are so needy, Lucille Fairchild. When are you going to get over that?

  Never.

  The throb of hurt swelled through her body. She wanted to crumple right there, but

  she couldn’t, refused to do it. She’d never let Jake see that he’d hurt her. It was such a

  silly thing, really. He’d never understand. It wasn’t his fault. It was hers.

  Tears welled and she had to get out of there before she made an utter fool of herself.

  “Of course. I only had a few minutes, anyway. I need to go.”

  “Lucy…”

  “No, really.” She already had the door open. “I’ll talk to you later, Jake.” Just a few steps down and she could make her escape.

  “Lucy, wait.”

  Please, please don’t follow me. She felt stupid already. She pulled the door shut behind her and nearly flew down the stairs, grateful she’d worn a pantsuit and flats today.

 

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