She hadn’t planned this. Not really. Yes, she’d come in with the intention of making him squirm just a little; he’d deserved that much. She’d wanted to let him know that she had her own mind in this. But maybe she’d been lying to herself. A tiny bit. Because, if she were being brutally honest, and now was the time for that really, then the rest was true, too. This was exactly where she wanted to be.
Maybe with a few less sodden clothes on, but still…
“Donovan—”
He paused in the string of devastatingly seductive kisses he was dropping along the line of her jaw and looked into her eyes.
“I mean Mac,” she said, belatedly realizing the slip. God, leave it to her to screw up the second chance she didn’t think she’d even have.
“No.”
“But—”
He pressed a finger against her lips. “I mean it’s okay.”
“I shouldn’t—”
He didn’t move his finger away; in fact, he continued to press the pad of his finger against her lips as she spoke, then stopped her by pressing his fingertip inside her mouth. Her thighs trembled at the soft penetration. The contrast to the rock-hard length of him currently pressing between her thighs was a sweet paradox. He watched her eyes as he slid his finger along the surface of her tongue.
She watched him back as she closed her mouth around it, pulled it in, and sucked on it, reveling in the brief surprise, followed by the punch of desire she saw in eyes that were already almost swamped with it. It was heady, powerful stuff, knowing she moved him like this. She tried not to think about how ambivalent he’d been before about doing this with her. Logic and rational thought were not going to stop this from happening.
She sucked harder, then groaned deep in her throat when he slid another finger inside her mouth. She pushed up on her toes, allowing him to tuck himself farther between her legs, wanting nothing more than to make her soaking wet clothes magically disappear. He groaned now, too, and bucked against her.
She slipped his fingers free of her mouth and simultaneously pulled his head down to hers. She wanted something more immediate than his fingers inside of her. She kissed him hard, and he returned it with equal fervor. He tugged her hands from their grasp on his hair and pinned them on the tile wall beside her head, then slowly slid them upward, until her body bowed away from the wall, pressing the wet shirt covering her breasts up against the hard planes of his water-slicked chest.
He crossed her wrists, then slid his hands down her arms to the ragged neckband of her sweatshirt, and with excruciating slowness, he ripped it right down the middle, baring her to him one inch at a time. She thought she’d scream with need as he slowly peeled away the heavy wet cotton, wanting nothing more than to finally be free of the stupid thing so she could feel something equally wet but far warmer covering her skin.
His gaze flickered up to hers as he finished the last bit with a yank, then slowly, deliberately, dragged the shirt open, so it slid across nipples that were achingly tight and sensitive.
“My beautiful Kate. But then, I knew you would be.”
“Nothing special,” she managed, knowing it to be true. She’d been genetically blessed with silky blond hair, and a nice facial structure, she knew that, but her body was quite average. No matter what Donovan thought. Her waist was straight rather than narrow, and her shoulders a bit more broad than was strictly feminine. When you added breasts that had blossomed small and remained quite defiantly so, it all added up to—her thoughts scattered instantly as his warm lips closed around one of those aching tips.
She gasped and arched into him, the exquisite sensations spearing through her rendering her speechless as well as mindless.
“You taste pretty damn good, too.”
She was focusing on trying to keep her knees locked and herself from sliding down the tile wall into a puddle at his feet as pleasure shot through her, from the tips of her breasts, like an arrow straight down between her thighs.
He left her sweatshirt hanging open, clinging to her sides, as he slowly began sliding his hands, and his body, downward. “I wonder where else you taste good.”
“Oh, my God,” she breathed, not at all certain she would survive that. But pretty damn sure she wanted to find out.
He slowly peeled down the heavy cotton sweats that molded to her thighs. He paused briefly when he got to the wisp of lace at her hipbone and glanced up. “Camp girl on the outside…all woman on the inside. I like that.”
If he only knew. She’d dug through her drawer of undies, wanting to put something on that would make her feel sexy, bold confident, even if she was the only one who knew. Okay, so maybe there’d been some latent fantasy that at some point he’d be overcome by lust, rip off her clothes, and see her in them. But she’d never actually expected it to happen. She’d certainly never expected this.
He hooked his fingers around the stretch of lace and tugged. Slowly. Excruciatingly slowly. She wanted to tip her head back, close her eyes, and just focus on feeling every sensation, every ripple of pleasure. But she couldn’t take her eyes off him. She tried not to tremble so hard but she couldn’t seem to stop. The warm water sheeted across her naked torso, tapping her aching nipples, sliding across her skin, drenching his hair, dripping off his jaw as he continued baring her skin to his intently focused gaze.
Her thighs quivered in anticipation of his touch. Even with the clouds of steam hanging heavily in the air, she could feel his warm breath brush against her oh-so-sensitive skin. She wanted to sink her fingers into his hair, urge him closer, urge him to please put an end to the torturous wait. But he continued pushing her clothes and panties down her thighs, over her calves, slipping his palms up one leg to help dislodge her foot from the wet pile, one then the other.
And then she was naked to him, except for the torn sweatshirt. He slid his hands slowly back up the front of her shins, then around the backs of her knees, and slowly up the back of her thighs, nudging them apart, just slightly.
She sighed as, once again, his breath fanned across her inner thighs. And thought she’d scream if he didn’t stop there and finally—“Oh!” Something that resembled part whimper, part moan, slipped from her mouth as he slowly drew his tongue along her most sensitive flesh.
She realized her arms were still crossed above her head when she lowered them, looking for something to brace herself on, trying to stand despite the exquisite bliss literally shuddering through her as he continued his dedicated mission. She slapped her palms to the tile and arched her back as he slid his fingers around the backs of her thighs…and upward, until he was inside of her. His tongue never stopping its delicious assault, until she was forced to bend over, brace her weight by gripping his shoulder with one hand, the back of his head with the other, as long moans, one after the other, poured out of her while she spiraled up and up…and finally over the peak.
She was shaking so hard, she wasn’t sure how she remained upright as wave after wave continued to rock through her. He slid up her body, bracing her between himself and the wall, as he trailed his lips up over her torso, peeling the sweatshirt down her arms and off before pushing her hands up again, and linking his fingers through hers as he pressed them to the tile beside her head.
“That was…” She had no voice. The words were barely formed. Her thoughts weren’t much more gelled than that either. She was still trying to come back to her senses. “I should be…you need…”
“Shh,” he told her, then pulled her arms down around his neck and tipped her chin up, and kissed her.
She was pliant in his arms, thankful for his strength, his guidance, his support of her, as she was nothing but a languid pool of bliss at the moment. Any moment now she’d regroup, she’d be a more active partner, giving as well as taking…but at the moment, his kisses were almost as drugging as his tongue had been, and she was swimming again, floating away on waves of pleasure. Later…later she’d return the favor. He didn’t seem all that insistent at the moment anyway. And this felt too damn good. Nothing had ever felt this good.
He was both gentle and urgent, making her feel both cosseted and desired at the same time. He tucked his hips against hers, still kissing her deeply, twining his tongue along hers as he slid his hands down and pulled her thighs up over his hips, pinning her to the wall. “Kate…,” he murmured against her lips. “I don’t want to stop, but—”
“Then don’t.” She buried her fingers in his wet curls and tugged his mouth back to hers. “Not this time. You can’t. You wouldn’t.”
“Protection,” he said, his body tensing as she hooked her heels behind his thighs.
“I’m safe,” she said. “It’s okay.”
He lifted his head, looked her in the eyes. “Are you sure?”
“Very.”
His eyes were so very dark, she’d never seen him this intense, which was saying something. And it was all in want of her. A heady rush raced through her all over again.
“Kate—”
“I’m protected. And I’m safe. And I want you…deep inside me. Right now.” She couldn’t believe she was saying this to him. She wasn’t one for such direct talk, but somehow with him, it was not only expected, it felt necessary. She wanted—no, needed—him to know she was a true partner for him. In every way. And this was only the beginning of how she wanted to show him.
That feeling, that need, was as thrilling as it was intimidating. But now was certainly not the time to worry about that. Right now, all she wanted to feel was—“Oh…oh…” And the rest was one long groan of intense satisfaction as he slid slowly, fully, and completely inside of her.
“Hold on to me,” he commanded, the words more growl than anything.
She didn’t hesitate to comply with this demand. She dug her fingers into his shoulders and locked her ankles more tightly behind him as he eased back from the wall, leaving her leaning back so he could angle her hips upward…and thrust. His broad palms covered her hips, guiding her down onto him. She arched, moaned, and when he began to move faster, she might have even screamed. She’d never been all that vocal during sex. With Donovan, she couldn’t imagine being quiet.
This wasn’t quiet, polite mating. This was basic, earthy, raw…primal.
She clung to him, both of them grunting as his thrusts grew deeper, faster. She wanted to slow things down, so she could remember every second, revel in every feeling, every sensation, but she couldn’t even keep her eyes open to watch him. He was driving her up again, and she could only give herself over to it, to the powerful emotions bulleting through her.
This is just sex. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she reminded herself of that. Or tried to.
What she felt was an irrevocable bond being forged, a union like no other. Ridiculous. A feeling she’d be thankful she never shared with him, as she was certain when it was all over, she’d laugh at herself and her silly emotional reaction to what was just extraordinary sex.
And it was Donovan. Her fantasy finally come to life. So surely she was just tangling fantasy with the moment.
Though, God, it was one hell of a moment.
And then whatever thoughts she had scattered completely as he slowed, and she could feel his body coil, tense, pull back, all in preparation for what she knew was coming. It was enough to send her over, water pouring over her sweat-slickened torso, as she gasped for air and gave back equally with every thrust he made.
He was all but growling when he came, his fingers digging into her hips in a way that she knew would leave marks, marks she felt ridiculously proud to bear, as she felt like a marked woman now anyway. She gave herself over to him, reveled in his shuddering release, tightening around him to give themselves both every last breath of pleasure.
He was shaking as he slid from her body and let her legs drop from around his waist. He rolled them both so his back was against the tile, and he held her tightly against him as they both fought for breath. Her knees were woozy, her muscles pliant on the verge of uselessness.
It was long moments before she realized the shower had, at some point, grown cool. It actually felt good on her overheated skin, but she blindly reached down and pushed the lever off. Donovan made no move to leave, or to let her go. And she made no move either. The steam slowly dissipated as their heartbeats eased to a somewhat steadier rhythm. It was the only thing steady about her at the moment.
It felt good, she decided, being in his arms. Held so tightly, both cuddled and coddled. It wasn’t like her to accept that from anyone, most especially in a moment like this. She’d fought so long and hard for independence, it had carried over to all aspects of her personal life, including intimacy. So why she so willingly accepted his protection, his surprising tenderness, she had no idea. She chalked it up to the moment…and to the past. To the fantasy. Because a lot of what had just happened couldn’t be reality.
Her reality was simply never that good.
She must have withdrawn then, in some way, because he tightened his hold slightly, then slid his hand up to tip her chin up.
“Hey.”
She smiled a little at that. Men. Such conversationalists. But it was the look in his eyes, a little stunned, but a lot tender, that kept her from teasing him. She felt much the same way and wondered if he saw that in her eyes. “Hey, yourself.”
“That was…” He let the words trail off, but held her gaze, his own intensifying in ways that had her heart rate kicking up again.
“Yeah,” she said softly. “It was.”
He gathered her closer, settling her between his legs, so she was pressed against the full length of him, chest to chest, hip to hip. The soft places on her easing against all the hard planes of him. It felt remarkably fantastic…and far too perfect. She never wanted to leave…and she had to force herself to relax. She knew what was coming. He’d warned her this was what it was, nothing more. No matter how stunned and replete he looked.
He rested his chin on her head and she took the easy way out, nuzzling his chest, keeping their gazes disconnected a little while longer. She didn’t want to risk him seeing anything in her gaze, especially when she hadn’t sorted it all out herself just yet.
When the silence spun out, and reality began to creep in, he pressed a kiss to her hair and said, “So…about that lunch.”
Thankful for the easy out, she nudged him in his ribs. “Men. Hungry or horny.”
“At least we’re easy to maintain.”
“I don’t know about that. I’m quite sure there are going to be parts of me that will be a little more vocal tomorrow when I get up.” She shifted in his arms, felt the slight strain in her calves, and laughed lightly. “Or maybe sooner.”
“I’ll make you a deal,” he said, pulling back the curtain and grabbing towels.
She was wrapped in one before she knew quite how she’d ended up on her bath mat, and he tied the other around his waist. “What would that be?” She snagged a smaller towel and began squeezing the water out of her hair. And carefully avoided any and all glances into the clearing glass of the mirror. She felt happily drowsy and satiated at the moment, thankful the mood between them was comfortable and easy. There was no guarantee that would last through the next ten minutes, much less the evening, or longer. She’d like to make the fantasy bubble she was in last as long as possible. Seeing what her hair and face looked like at the moment was almost a sure-fire way to abruptly burst it.
He whipped the towel out of her hands and nudged her around so her back was to him. He began kneading and squeezing the water out of her hair for her. She felt both pampered and sort of stupidly jealous. He was far too comfortable in this role, and she couldn’t help but do the insecure woman thing and wonder who else he’d performed that intimate little task for.
Then he leaned down and kissed the spot where her neck curved into her shoulder, and suddenly she didn’t give a rat’s behind who else might have played the past role of Kate. At the moment, she was. And, for now, that was all that really mattered.
She sighed and leaned back into him, knowing her walls had crumbled so swiftly that there was sure to be a big, ugly reckoning coming her way later. She found she really couldn’t make herself care much about that eventuality either. What was done was done. And pretty damn well if you asked her. No point in wasting the good parts.
“You finish putting together the soup and sandwiches,” he said, lifting her hair and kissing her nape, sending a delicious tingling sensation skittering over her skin. “And I’ll see what I can do to relax those mystery muscles later.”
If only it were that simple. Playing house in the middle of the woods.
Her shoulders slumped a tiny bit as she tried hard to fight off the inevitable reality check. Would it kill anyone if the good parts lasted just a little bit longer? “Pretty tough to say no to that plan,” she said, only to be turned around, her chin tipped up again as he peered into her eyes. Clearly she wasn’t pulling off insouciance as well as she thought she was.
“Lunch, some talk, a little planning and strategizing session. Then a little fun.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Balance.”
For some unknown reason, it was that last little kiss, so natural and so damn sweet, that undid her. Tears welled in her eyes, horrifying her, but there didn’t seem to be any stopping them.
“I don’t want to lose my camp.” And I don’t want to lose you. Which was where the tears had really sprung from. But he didn’t have to know that. Could never know that. Not after she’d been the one to all but force him to take their relationship to a place he hadn’t wanted it to go. For this very reason.
“So then we make sure you don’t.” He handed the towel back to her. “Hey, come on, now. Where’s the woman who doesn’t take crap and storms showers? Come on, let’s get dressed and do something about it.”
She took the towel and watched him as he picked up his duffel bag and rooted through it for fresh jeans and a sweatshirt. She dabbed at her eyes, wondering when she’d become such a blubbering idiot. Well, idiot in general.
That was easy. The moment she’d stopped taking care of herself and let herself lean on somebody. Maybe he’d had the right idea all along. Letting themselves want each other, giving in to that want, led to allowing themselves to depend on each other. To needing things that they shouldn’t be needing…and wanting things they couldn’t have.
She turned abruptly away and scrubbed her face, catching her reflection in the mirror as she did so. She was surprised to see that rather than look splotchy and defenseless, she looked quite…empowered and satisfied. God, she was so confused. With a roll of the eyes, she left the bathroom and escaped to the hopeful haven of her bedroom. She’d wring out her sopping wet clothes later. Right now, she needed a little privacy, a chance to regroup, to figure out what she wanted—no, what she needed to do next. She knew what she wanted.
She leaned back against her closed bedroom door and let out a long, satisfied sigh now that Donovan couldn’t see her. Yeah, what you want is a lot more of what you just got in the shower. She squeezed her eyes shut. It only made the images in her mind stronger. The sensations, how full she’d felt when he’d been thrusting inside of her…made her thighs clench together as her aching muscles twitched right back to life.
She opened her eyes, and her gaze landed directly on her bed. How realistic was it to think they wouldn’t end up there? Perhaps only a few short hours from now. She crossed her arms over her chest as her body responded quite happily to that little idea. So much for regrouping.
She jumped when a knock came at the door at her back.
“Your watch Bagel is looking rather pitiful. I’m going to run him outside. Spend a little guy time with him. I think he’s jealous.”
Yep. She was a goner. How was she supposed to shore up her defenses, resume her steely-eyed distance from a guy who’d just taken her to heaven and back, then offered to bond with her dog?
“Okay,” she said, knowing she sounded nothing like the no-nonsense woman she really needed to be if she had any hope in hell of surviving the next few weeks with him, and keep her heart intact. She should have never gone into the bathroom, should have never taunted him. She looked again at her bed.
“Stop overthinking this,” came his voice through the closed door. “What’s done is done. And pretty damn well if you ask me. We’ll handle it, Kate.”
Was he reading her mind now? She turned and rested her forehead on the door for a long moment, then went ahead and opened it. Just in time to see him close the front door behind himself and a very ecstatic Bagel. She didn’t know her dog could do a full body wag quite like that.
“I know exactly how you feel,” she murmured, then went back into her room and got dressed.