by Amanda Usen
Instantly he rolled to the side. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. I just…I don’t…” She could still taste him in her mouth, and the ache between her legs made her feel wildly off-kilter. She wanted him back on top of her so badly it was terrifying. What the hell was wrong with her?
“Hang on.” He turned her to face away from him and spooned her again. “This better?”
“Yes.” It was amazing, but the hot contentment she felt at his touch was causing her anxiety in the first place.
“I’m sorry if I upset you. Despite what I said, I don’t wake up with a beautiful woman in my bed every morning. I was just fooling around.”
“I’m not upset.” He thought she was beautiful? More likely, every woman he woke up with was beautiful.
“Glad to hear it.” His arm tightened around her waist, and he pressed a slow trail of kisses down the back of her neck toward her shoulder.
Her breath left her mouth in a raw pant. “What are you doing?”
“As long as you’re not upset…”
His fingers splayed across her belly, and she tensed, sucking it in. Dismay and arousal twisted through her. When his hand moved away from her stomach, she relaxed, both relieved and embarrassed. She didn’t want him fondling her bigger-than-it-used-to-be belly, but for a split second she’d hoped he wouldn’t stop touching her. Wishful thinking. She couldn’t expect a man built like a god to be impressed with a body that had maybe seen the gym a dozen times this year.
He pressed his mouth to her ear. “I was up half the night trying to figure out how to look good on film today, but you know what I was really thinking about?”
His lips traveled back up her neck, and it was impossible to think at all. “I have no idea.”
“How I could get your thermals off and see you in tiger-striped fleece.” He pressed closer behind her. “We’re supposed to hike to the summit, but I’d spend the day in the tent if I have a shot at getting your clothes off.”
Was he serious? She couldn’t tell. But she did know one thing. “I’d rather hike through hell than have you see me naked.”
His mouth left her neck so fast she felt the breeze. “Says the woman who just had her tongue down my throat. Are you sure about that? I could take you for a walk on the wild side you’d never forget.”
The only sound was her breath, moving in and out of her lungs faster than it should. His words were blunt and thrilling, but what if this were another ploy to keep her off-balance? “I have no doubt you believe you could back up that outrageous claim, but no thank you. I’d prefer to keep things between us on a professional level.”
“I don’t blame you. If I were you, I’d want to keep the upper hand, too. You made me look like an idiot yesterday.” His voice was thoughtful. She twisted so she could see his expression. His pale blue eyes held humor and a tinge of regret. He looked perfectly serious. Uncertainty made her heart skip a beat.
She shook her head. “What are you talking about? I’m the one who looked like an idiot.”
“Nope. You’re the one who packed all the right stuff for the trip, didn’t bitch when I made you change, and nearly exhausted yourself being too tough for your own good. Then you made me a fantastic dinner and took the high road when I didn’t thank you. You are going to look like a rock star in this segment.”
Surprise ballooned in her chest. “Hardly. I fumbled around on those snowshoes, nearly keeled over, ran around like a chicken with my head cut off making dinner while you rested—”
“You didn’t actually believe me about energy conservation last night, did you? What else was I going to say? You win? Not in my nature.” His hand moved restlessly over her hip and thigh, skated up her arm, and then followed the same path again. Her skin burned in his wake. “Not to mention you did so well on the snowshoes I bet half the women in America will buy a pair and give them a try. You made it look easy.”
“I did?”
“Hell yes. How are your legs feeling? Mine were hamburger after my first time.”
She’d been so focused on what was happening between them, she hadn’t noticed. She moved her leg and groaned as pain gripped her thigh. She flexed her foot to keep her calf from cramping. “Frying hamburger.”
He reached down to massage the front of her right thigh, rubbing up and down in a rhythmic, squeezing motion. The pain eased. His hand moved behind her knee and his fingers found tender places in her hamstring and soothed them, too. When he scooted lower in the sleeping bag and rubbed circles on her cramping calf with his thumb, the muscles unknotted, and she moaned in relief.
He started on the other calf and began to work his way back up. When he reached the front of her left leg, she rolled onto her back so he could reach the top of her thigh, and her eyes slid shut. At least half of her had come undone under his strong fingers, and when his hand brushed her waist, even the parts of her he hadn’t touched unwound. His finger traced the top edge of her panties through her thermal underwear, and liquid heat pooled between her thighs.
She opened her eyes.
His smile was wicked. “Just a peek? My imagination was killing me all day yesterday.”
She blinked rapidly, trying to clear the haze from her mind. His hands felt like they belonged on her body. Had he somehow hypnotized her with his touch? There was no way she was taking off her clothes. The unfamiliar pulse of arousal through her body couldn’t make her completely forget reality. “Imagination is a beautiful thing.”
“Not as beautiful as you.”
A painful laugh shook her. “If tiger-striped fleece is your kink, buy some for one of your supermodel girlfriends, and have a good time. My body has a fourteen-month-old baby belly and a whopping big cesarean scar.” He didn’t look nearly as deterred as she had expected, so she added, “And stretch marks. Let’s not forget about them. Stick to your imagination. It’s way better.”
“I don’t believe you.” Laughter crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Prove it.”
She snorted. “I’m not falling for that one.”
“How about you show me yours, and I’ll show you mine? Scars, that is. If you’re worried about physical flaws, I’ve got you beat. I’m a mess—I’ve got scars all over. Show me your worst, and I’ll top it.” His eyes dared her, and the smug grin on his face said he thought she wasn’t brave enough to do it. Either that, or he thought she was playing coy and a little more encouragement on his part would turn her into a wild and willing stripper.
She arched one brow. “Did I mention I cook for a living, and I hate going to the gym? This body is soft in ways I doubt you’ve ever seen.”
His intent gaze sent a shimmer of heat through her belly. “I’ve got hard covered, sweetheart. I like soft.” His hand curled around her hip. “Show me.”
She stared up at him, stunned by her response to a few simple words, and then nodded slowly. She was going to show him all right, and then he’d stop this nonsense. She hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her thermal underwear and shoved it down to her knees. She reached for the bottom edge of her top, forcing him to dodge her elbow in the close confines of the sleeping bag, as she raised it over her head. It got caught, and she struggled until he pulled her free. She brought her arms back down to her sides and dragged her gaze to his face.
He was looking at her breasts, and her body burned as if his gaze were a torch. Without taking his eyes from her, he reached for the zipper of the sleeping bag. Cold air rushed in.
“Hey,” she protested, shivering.
“Just for a minute.” He scooted away from her and kneeled outside the bag. His gaze slid over her exposed body for endless, freezing moments until he finally said, “All right. I’m ready to see that big, scary scar now.” He made a “bring it on” motion with his fingers.
She sucked in a breath. This wasn’t bad enough? She searched his face for a clue to his thoughts, but his expression gave nothing away. A mixture of resignation and determination urged her on. She’d come this far; she cou
ldn’t quit now.
She inched her fleece panties down to expose the six-inch red line across her pelvis.
His gaze dropped to her belly, and she held her breath.
He shrugged. “Not impressed.”
“What?” she spluttered.
He crawled toward her and shoved his thermals down over one hip. “Check this out. Rope burn. Lost my grip and it ripped right through my gear.” The angry-looking scar was raised and thick. “Beat that.”
She couldn’t take her eyes off the sculpted hollow of his buttock. When she finally managed to shift her gaze, he turned and she caught a glimpse of the sweet spot where his muscles tied in to his hip. She licked her lips, shocked by the desire to taste that curve.
She shook her head in denial.
“Conceding so fast, Susie? I guess you know I’ve got you beat. Look at this.” When she opened her eyes, he thrust one leg out in front of him and yanked his pants up to his knee. A jagged scar crawled up the entire length of his calf. “I think I left a pound of flesh on that sharp rock, but I got out of the water before blood drew the sharks.”
She winced. “That looks like it hurt.”
“Hell yes. Your turn. Let’s see those epic stretch marks.”
She turned her face to the side. “This isn’t a fair fight. Your scars make you look tough. Mine…it’s different for women.”
“Bullshit. Don’t turn chicken on me now, Susie.”
She glared at him. Obviously he wasn’t going to be satisfied until he’d seen every part she wanted to hide. This had already gone too far, but she knew exactly how to wipe that smart-ass grin off his face. She reached under her arm and dragged her sports bra down to expose the side of her breast where she’d been horrified to discover faint purple lines after she’d weaned Billy. “You asked for it.”
His mouth fell open, and he made a strangled sound of surprise.
She covered herself, instantly mortified, and rolled over to hide her face against the side of the sleeping bag. As soon as the cool air hit her back, she realized her mistake. She knew exactly what her butt and the backs of her thighs looked like.
She froze as he slid into the bag behind her.
“Now I’m impressed.” Humor rippled through his voice. “I need a better look.”
“Stop it. Just stop it. I can’t believe I let you goad me into doing that. You bring out the absolute worst in me.” She huddled against the side of the bag, trying not to touch him. It was impossible.
“I’d argue you showed me your best…but I still win. I think I’ve seen just about everything you’ve got, and I have at least a half dozen more impressive scars. Want to see them?”
She kind of did. “No.”
“I don’t believe you.” He turned her to face him and clamped his thigh over her hip, so she couldn’t wiggle away. “If you didn’t want to see me, you’d be out of the tent already. If you didn’t want to touch me, you’d have gone to the ranger station last night instead of crawling in bed with me. If you didn’t want to show me your body, you wouldn’t have taken off your clothes.” His hand cupped her breast. “Admit it.”
She jerked in surprise but didn’t pull away. Was he right? His thumb found her nipple, rubbing it to a hard peak, and tingles spread from her breast to her belly, then lower. It felt incredible. An embarrassing whimper escaped her lips.
“So hot,” he whispered, moving to the other breast. “There is nothing sexier than a woman who can’t say no to a dare. I’ve got your number now—you don’t like to lose any more than I do.” He dragged her bra up over her breasts in a quick tug and gave her a heart-stopping grin. “I dare you to hold still.”
The cool air kissed her nipples the second before his fingers teased them, and she moaned. Electricity flowed through her, and she moved restlessly against him.
He chuckled and leaned toward her. “I dare you to let me taste your scars.”
His tongue traced a series of cool lines on the side of her breast. She couldn’t breath. He moved to the other breast and did the same thing, and then he held them together. His tongue flashed between her nipples.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked hoarsely, raising her hands to cover her breasts and barely able to form the words because of the sharp pleasure shooting through her.
“Because you seem to have some serious misapprehensions about what men find attractive, and I dare you to let me set you straight.” He caught her wrists and lifted her arms over her head, holding them with one hand. He bent his head to her breasts again.
She dragged air into her lungs, trying to think. It was impossible. Her brain felt as empty as her aching body. Her nipples felt swollen and sensitive, and every touch of his tongue echoed between her thighs. She shifted helplessly beneath him, throbbing. As if sensing her need, he slid one thigh between hers and rubbed, making her moan. He continued the motion, and she couldn’t control her ragged breathing or stop the small sounds she was making.
He caged her wrists above her head. Both of his legs were between hers now, his hips forcing her thighs wide. His eyes blazed in the dim light, and a harsh grin curved his lips as he rocked against her, further shredding her ability to think. He knew exactly what he was doing.
And I am clueless. The doubts that had disappeared when he crawled back into the sleeping bag with her came rushing back. He played her body as well as he did everything else, but she had no idea what would please him. If he let go of her wrists, she wouldn’t even know where to put her hands. What the heck had she been thinking letting this go so far?
“Holly was wrong, so completely wrong,” she muttered.
“What does she have to do with this?” He nuzzled her neck.
Her stomach tightened. Was this the best way to get out of this gracefully? Make it a joke? She might as well. Her ineptitude had to be obvious to someone with his level of experience anyway. “She suggested I use you for practice.”
“What kind of practice are we talking about?”
“Sexual practice.” His head jerked up, and she groaned. “I know—it’s ridiculous.”
“You need practice? Is there a competition I don’t know about? If so, I want in.” He slid down until his arms bracketed her shoulders and his legs trapped hers. She could feel the hard ridge of him between her legs. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth, tensing against the pleasure. This was very close to her sleeping bag fantasy, and she imagined him taking off his long underwear and stretching out over her, taking off her panties and sliding inside her. A choked sound flew from her throat.
Her breasts were crushed against his chest, and the brush of his shirt against her nipples made her tremble. What would he say if she told him the truth? Would he finally stop? Realize she was a lost cause and leave her alone?
She took a deep breath and blurted it out. “If there were a competition, I’d never enter. I don’t like sex.”
His nostrils flared, and he burst out laughing. “That is the most intriguing challenge I’ve ever heard.”
She shoved at his shoulders, but it was like trying to shift a brick wall. “It’s not a challenge! God, you’re so arrogant. I was just telling you why Holly thinks I need practice.”
“Holly knows what you’re like in bed? Tell me more. Is there any chance you have videos? I promise I won’t share them.”
“You’re disgusting.”
“No, I’m the guy on top of you, hard as a rock, and there’s not a doubt in my mind I can make you like sex.” He rolled his hips against hers. “Why don’t you?”
“If I knew the answer to that question, I’d still be married. Apparently, I don’t have the skill set.”
His eyebrows shot so high they almost touched the shock of blond hair hanging over his forehead. “You’re bad in bed? Says who?”
“My ex-husband.” She lifted her chin. “Who told you you’re so amazing?”
“Every woman who’s screamed my name.” His smile was black satin sheets and a dozen other things beyond her limited e
xperience. “Want to join them?”
Even though she knew it would end horribly, she was tempted. Was trashing his perfect record worth the inevitable embarrassment of failure? Maybe it would be different with him. The thought flashed into her head, making her gasp, “No.”
He shifted to the side.
She covered her breasts, wriggled back into her shirt, and yanked her pants, which were still tangled around one ankle, back up to her waist. His gaze was far too observant for her comfort. She didn’t bother reaching for the zipper. She scrambled right out of the top of the bag.
He rolled over, probably as disgusted with her as she was with herself, but she was grateful for the privacy as she hurriedly dressed. The sleeping bag displayed his shoulders, and through the thin material of his thermal underwear she could make out the outline of his tattoo. She grabbed her phone and unzipped the tent, ignoring the devil on her shoulder telling her she hadn’t lost her chance to see that tattoo yet. They still had another night together.
“Susannah?”
She paused at the door of the tent.
“Scars mean you lived, and yours mean you created a miracle. I’m not a huge fan of kids, but I totally respect the women who bring them into the world. Men who turn beautiful women off sex don’t deserve to breathe. If you change your mind, I’ll say yes.”
“I’m not going to change my mind.” She hurried outside.
…
Russ stared at the side of the tent. There was no way he was going back to sleep, but he wasn’t going to chase after a woman who wanted to get away from him. A strategic retreat was his best move, but damn, it was hard not to push. He rolled onto his back so he could remember how it had felt to wake up with her on top of him, kissing him with raw passion. Susannah thought she was bad in bed? He’d give anything for the chance to prove her wrong.
He reached down to stroke himself, reliving a few key moments from the last half hour. She’d looked as surprised as he’d felt when she’d flashed him. Full breasts, bigger than his hands, and soft. Sensitive, too. Had she been aware of the way she’d moved against him while he sucked her nipples? He’d kill to be inside her while she moved like that.