Over the Edge

by Jeanie London; Leslie Kelly

  “Does he have a name?”

  “No,” Jake ground out.

  “But he deserves one, I think.” She circled a fingertip around the head and blood surged so hard that his erection visibly swelled beneath her attention.

  “A big pretty boy like this deserves a good name. A really good name.”

  Her voice was a husky sound in the quiet, a sound that filtered through his senses and mocked his every reaction. She swirled her fingertips down his length to brush his balls, eliciting another pendulous swing that made her smile widen.

  “How about Goliath?”

  Jake wouldn’t even dignify that with a response. Not that he could’ve managed a reply anyway with his heartbeat thundering in his ears.

  Before he realized what she was about, Mallory sat up, one sinuous cat-like motion that sent her wet hair swinging forward to blanket her pale body as she arched above him, an inky black cocoon that sequestered her with his aching erection.

  Sure enough…her hot velvet tongue dragged along his balls, ripping another groan past his constricted throat.

  Jake had the vague thought that Mallory had assumed the control again in a big way, but he couldn’t reason well enough to figure out what he wanted to do about it. Nothing. At least for the moment. Her breath burst softly against that wet spot, and her hands were skimming between his thighs, examining every inch of him with a thoroughness that made him quake.

  “I’ll bet women always compliment you on being so beautiful, Jake Trinity.”

  He took a stab at a coherence. “Beautiful?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “Ah, no,” he said, a pretense at control when his voice sounded strangely as though it belonged to someone else. “I don’t recall any woman ever calling me that before.”

  She lifted her head, gazed up at him from beneath the fall of her hair. “An oversight then, because you most definitely are. Very beautiful.”

  She reinforced her statement with another touch, this time scooping her body low until he could feel the tight tips of her breasts along his thighs.

  “You make me want to touch you. Do you mind?”

  He intended to tell her to have at it, but before he found his voice again he realized her question had been rhetorical. She didn’t need his permission. She was already kneading her fingers into his thigh, massaging his muscles with strokes that were equally skilled and erotic.

  With a knowing smile quirking around her mouth, she poised above him like a pagan love goddess. The wild tangle of black hair tumbled around her naked body. Her rosy nipples played peekaboo through the shiny strands. And she proceeded to explore him as if she’d waited a long time for the privilege.

  That thought undermined a little more of his control. When he’d been gearing up to handle the unexpected, he hadn’t counted on the effect of Mallory wanting him. But she did. He could feel it in her almost reverent touch. In each languorous stroke of her fingers between his thighs, over his knees, down his calves. She wanted to explore him. He wanted to let her.

  Man, did he want to let her.

  Ten years of fantasies all boiled down to the feel of her soft hands on his skin. Sending both sides of his brain into battle. The impulsive side wanted to indulge all his pleasure centers, wanted to surrender to her eager caresses, wanted to start up some exploration of his own. The rational side knew there was a point to this encounter and it wasn’t all about pleasure. It was a power play.

  The pleasure centers were taking control. Rationality was arguing that he should be able to exercise the restraint to mix business with pleasure.

  And then Mallory hooked one long leg over him, straddled his hips, rode her woman’s heat along the length of his erection and Jake lost this battle.

  His hands fitted perfectly into her waist. She felt lightweight and sexy as he guided her bottom along for another wet stroke. And she was wet. Not shower wet, but creamy hot wet. Her lush folds enveloped him as if they were two interlocking puzzle pieces, aligned with breathtaking precision.

  The image of plunging himself inside her made it almost impossible to breathe. And she must have known, because she was going out of her way to put on a show.

  She arched backward, her hair tumbling behind her, wisping across his thighs with a brush of cool air. Her breasts thrust forward above her slim waist. Without thought, his hands began an ascent, dragging upward over her ribs, thumbing her satiny smooth skin.

  The rational side of his brain was working just enough to want a response, so he caught her nipples and squeezed.

  Her reaction didn’t disappoint. A sultry moan slid from her lips and then she was leaning forward, pressing her nipples into his palms, skimming her hands along his chest and leaving arousal everywhere their bodies touched.

  He thrust his tongue inside her mouth, mimicking the motion his body yearned to mirror. He caught the sound of her sigh with his lips, speared his hands into her hair to slant her head so he could deepen their connection.

  This was no ordinary kiss, but making love with their mouths. Their tongues tangled, their breaths clashed, their needs came together as if ten years and a minimal acquaintance didn’t matter. Need mattered. Desire mattered. Their bodies knew each other on some level.

  It was a stunning realization, awesome in its simplicity.

  Too awesome for Mallory apparently, because she broke their kiss and rose above him. Though nothing about her narrowed gaze and parted lips suggested she was rattled, Jake sensed she was. He sensed it in the distance she placed between them, in the way she backed off and said in a voice without its usual conviction, “Roll over.”

  He tried to make sense of her retreat, but his own brain was barely recovering from the intensity of their kiss and he couldn’t pull all the pieces together. So he did as she asked, grateful for the chance to regain control of his runaway senses.

  Unfortunately he didn’t get much of a chance to recover, because she got the jump on him again.

  Straddling him, she worked the muscles in his neck and shoulders with skillful fingers, dazing him with the languor of relaxation. She worked her way down his back, slowly, steadily.

  “Do you like trivia, Jake?”

  “Depends on what it’s about.” His voice sounded thick, drugged with arousal.

  “About me.”

  “I’m interested.”

  She chuckled throatily as though she knew he was falling under her spell.

  “I’m a bun girl.” She sank her fingers into his butt, kneading the muscle so hard that he sucked in a breath that went a long way toward dispelling the clouds in his head.

  “Really?”

  “Really. And I’m pleased to report that you have a first-class ass.”

  “Glad you approve.”

  “Oh, I do. I approve completely.” Her hard kneading yielded to the touch of a fingertip that trailed along the cleft, a leisurely stroke that left fire in its wake.

  “There’s just something about good-looking buns that does it for me. Mmm-mm, how do you keep yourself so tan? Do you lie out in the sun naked? I’d like to see that.”

  “Good genes.”

  She slipped her finger in just enough to separate his skin and make him shiver, one of those full-bodied jobs that she couldn’t have missed.

  “Like that, do you, Jake? Are you a bun man?”

  Another grunt, which she could interpret to mean whatever she wanted. He didn’t care, because he was too busy fighting the urge to grind his erection into the mattress to ease this ache that was testing his restraint in a big way.

  Fortunately, she provided a distraction by shimmying down his body, her nipples glancing lightly over him as she resettled herself full length along his legs, pinning him beneath her.

  He wondered what she was up to now—there was no doubt in his mind that she was up to something—when he felt a wet stroke of her tongue along his cleft. One moist stroke that caused him a moment of complete panic. He wasn’t sure if his reaction was because of what else she mig
ht try while she was down there or because he was so close to losing control. Either way, Jake knew he was being tested.

  He wasn’t sure who Mallory was used to playing with, but she was in for a surprise if she thought she could toy with him.

  The thought rallied his senses. Let her enjoy the upper hand. Let her think she had him by the balls. She’d find out soon enough that Jake was no longer a nineteen-year-old with a hard-on. He’d been waiting ten years to solve the mystery of his sexy thief. He was a patient man. A very patient man.

  And his patience had just reached its end.

  “Nervous, Jake?” she asked.

  He twisted in a wrestling move he could have accomplished easily with an opponent three times her size.

  She came off him gracefully, recovering her balance with an economy of speed and motion. But Jake was ready. He caught her wrist and dragged her hand toward his crotch and the erection there that was swiftly reaching impossible proportions.

  He didn’t need to say anything more than “Grab a condom” before she was scooting toward the pillows with a smile.

  As soon as she got there…he pounced.

  “Jake!”

  Mallory wanted to know why he’d suddenly fisted his hand into her hair, and he answered that question when he coaxed her head back so she could see their reflection in the large mirror that filled the wall above the bed’s headboard.

  He knelt behind her, his body behind hers, chin resting on the top of her head, his broad body framing her pale form with golden muscle. His erection pressed hotly against her backside. His strong thighs anchored her in place.

  Their gazes met in the mirror, no less potent as reflections. His melting dark eyes caressed her face knowingly, challenged her to give up her control, promised she wouldn’t be sorry. But he didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. His expression said everything.

  He wanted her.

  Their sex was supposed to be about satisfying needs—her fascination with this man and her need for vengeance. But Jake kept stealing the control, kept shifting the balance of power, proving he was as in command of his responses as ever and unraveling her in a way she’d never been unraveled before.

  She felt exposed, needy. She liked his big arms around her, the promise of that magnificent erection pressed against her. And staring into that mirror at their reflection meant facing just how much.

  Her eyes were heavy with desire. Her lips were ripe from his kisses. She wanted this man with an urgency that she’d never known before, so she let her eyes flutter closed, blocked out the sight. Inhaling a cleansing breath, she tried to dispel this unfamiliar sensation, to regain control of her own responses so she could regain control of the moment.

  But blindness only enhanced her other senses. The lingering taste of his mouth on hers, his rough-velvet tongue. The clash of their excited breaths through the quiet. The feel of his big warm body molding hers. The scent of his skin.

  Mallory almost laughed, a knee-jerk reaction to the potency of the moment. She was the thief, but Jake Trinity was the one stealing…her calm, her control. She wanted to turn around and square off face-to-face, dispel this power he had over her, but she refused to give him the satisfaction. She’d started this game, and she’d play it until the end.

  She could handle unexpected turns. She liked a good challenge.

  And this man was proving to be one. Especially when his body brushed hers as he knelt behind her, down, down….

  He directed her to spread her knees wide, and she clung to the headboard as he pressed his face between her thighs, his hair brushing her skin, his faintly stubbled cheeks abrading her most sensitive places. His hot tongue dragged back along her folds, one hot stroke that she felt from the inside out.

  She bucked hard. A half gasp, half moan spilled from her lips, echoing just how on edge she felt. That one hot stroke of his tongue and she turned into a puddle.

  “I am a bun man, Mallory. And I’m pleased to report that you’re first class in that department.” He tossed her own words back at her, and the best she could do was exhale a trapped breath, a sound that skittered out in ridiculous bursts.

  Oh, this man was just too good.

  She’d expected a challenge, but she hadn’t been expecting this. For the first time, Mallory questioned whether this man could be mastered at all.

  A question that sweetened the bite of the challenge.

  Suddenly Mallory couldn’t stop herself from arching back against him, encouraging his devilish tongue to feed this need that was making her tremble.

  But Jake had control now, and he was changing the rules.

  He rose up behind her, and she heard the sound of foil tearing, resisted the urge to turn around. She clung to the headboard instead, waiting, playing this game his way, sighing when he positioned his erection between her thighs, a hot presence that caressed her damp folds and made her shiver.

  “Open your eyes, Mallory,” he said huskily. “Watch the way you melt when I push inside.”

  She wouldn’t. She didn’t want to acknowledge that he was right. That she was melting at the feel of him pressing inside, overwhelmed by each thick inch stretching her, filling her.

  He moved slowly, generously allowing her time to acclimate to his size, to melt around him in supple degrees, to yield until she was so full she felt breathless. But before she could manage the sensation, he snaked his hand around her hip, over her stomach and between her thighs. He zeroed right in on that knot of nerve endings and sent fire bursting through her.

  “Open your eyes, Mallory.”

  Still she resisted. She anchored herself against the bed frame and rode out the sensation, only vaguely aware of the way the cold metal contrasted sharply with the heat of her skin. Pressing back down on his erection again, she needed to feed this ache inside, wanted to feel him thrust inside her.

  But Jake didn’t move, just kept that hand wedged between her thighs, his finger lazily circling her aching flesh.

  She recognized the power play for what it was, disliked that he could be so in control of himself when he was inside her. She almost gave in and opened her eyes, wanting to see some evidence of a struggle on his handsome face.

  But she didn’t want to find out that his struggle didn’t match her own.

  And he didn’t ask again. He picked up his rhythm, pressing that huge erection inside just enough to make her squirm, making her arch back to encourage him to thrust harder. But he kept his own pace with those barely-there strokes, ruthlessly controlling her need. And his own?

  Mallory didn’t know. She just knew when he slipped his hands between them, kneaded her backside to part her cheeks so his erection went impossibly deeper.

  And Jake got his wish because her eyes shot open wide and she met his satisfied gaze, a gaze that saw things she didn’t want him to see…like just how much she could feel him.

  “Oh.” The sound tumbled from her lips, and suddenly she couldn’t stop her hips from swaying against him to feed the tension building inside.

  “Look at yourself, Mallory. You’re beautiful when you want.”

  With his command echoing in her ears and her tension mounting with his thrusts, she faced her reflection, found her expression mirrored exactly how she felt—she was coming apart at the seams, whether she’d intended to or not.

  And she hadn’t intended to. Their sex was supposed to have been about taking Jake apart at the seams. Yet her eyes were heavy with desire. Her nostrils flared on gasping breaths. As he rode her from behind, each sweet motion reflected in her expression for both of them to see.

  And he liked watching. His gaze never left her reflection as he pulled out almost completely, a blinding move that robbed her of all thought as he sank back inside, the feeling of him driving deep, the fullness so overwhelming she cried out.

  Her orgasm began, a huge rolling sensation that gathered and swelled until it brought her right to the edge. Her only consolation was that he seemed to be caught up in the phenomenon, too. He
thrust again, and she recognized the hunger sharpening his features as he drove into her again, and again, and again.

  Then Mallory simply exploded, a gut-wrenching collision of every nerve in her body. Sensation crashed in on her, consumed her from the top of her tingling scalp to the feet she’d wrapped around his muscular calves, and something that sounded suspiciously like a scream burst from her lips.

  Her orgasm detonated his, and the rumbling began low in his chest, rising until it emitted as a throaty growl from his lips, a sound that echoed against her ear and quivered through her. She could only watch in the mirror, shell-shocked as she felt his muscles tighten against her as he came.

  Pleasure overtook his expression, and she experienced a profound, almost absurd sense of relief when she saw the amazement flickering in the molten depths of his eyes.

  She wasn’t the only one bowled over here—she’d screamed. She couldn’t believe she’d actually screamed.

  It wasn’t that she hadn’t had good orgasms before. She’d had good ones, incredible ones, even. She’d just never had one like this. She would have collapsed into a boneless heap if he hadn’t held her so tightly. “What is it about you, Jake Trinity?”

  Their gazes met in the mirror. “It’s not me. It’s us together.”

  She couldn’t contemplate that statement, didn’t have the energy or the brain cells left to even try. “There is no us.”

  He arched a tawny brow, his gaze dragging over her reflection, his arm locked around her waist, his skin a dark slash against her paleness. He held her as if he didn’t intend to let her go. “You don’t think so?”

  “No.” The word came out much too fast to be taken seriously and the smile twitching around his lips suggested Jake didn’t.

  “Then what do you think just happened?”

  “We had really good sex.”

  His steady gaze seemed again to be reaching deep inside her, searching for something, making her respond with that ridiculous, fluttery feeling again….