Impulse Control (Entangled Indulgence) (Men of the Zodiac)

by Amanda Usen

  She wanted to, and it scared her. “One night? That’s all it takes? One good bang from the Wild Man will fix me right up?”

  “One night is all I can offer, but unfortunately we can’t have sex. I didn’t pack condoms.”

  “Some Boy Scout you are. Doesn’t a guy like you have special pockets sewn into all his clothes so he can be prepared at all times?” She tried to laugh, but her face flamed.

  “It was you, me, Stan, and Dave. Frankly, I figured the person I had the greatest chance of fucking was me, and my hands have a clean bill of health.” He grasped her hair and drew her head back, raising his finger to her lips. His touch made her toes curl in her socks. “I’d love to put on a condom and slide inside your body, but there are a lot of other fun things we can do that don’t require protection.”

  She pressed her lips together. Ethan had found her cold, but that hadn’t kept him from having an orgasm during sex. She might have been tempted to say yes if there had been a chance of sex, because there was an easy out if things fizzled. But the other things he was talking about? Way beyond her comfort level, however ironic that might be.

  His hand tightened in her hair. “Like kissing. Kissing is perfectly safe.”

  The air felt thick, heavy, and cold. Donovan’s heat called to her. She’d told herself she could handle anything he could dish out on this trip, but was she ready to find out if it could be different with another man? Transcend, transform, and triumph. She wasn’t going to get another perfect opportunity like this unless she started dating, and the stakes would be higher with a man who might become part of her future. Donovan had made it crystal clear he wasn’t sticking around.

  Holly was right after all. He was perfect for practice…if she could manage to rise above her fears.

  He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “It doesn’t have to be complicated, Susannah. Stop thinking. Let me show you how easy it is.”

  She lifted her gaze to his blazing blue eyes and made her decision. “Only if what happens in the tent, stays in the tent.”

  He pointed at the ceiling. “I got rid of the camera. And I’m going to take that as a yes.” His lips slanted across hers.

  She clutched his shoulders, feeling dizzy as the ramifications of saying yes cast her into unknown territory. “You better know what you’re doing.”

  “Sweetheart, I know exactly what I’m going to do to you.” His low whisper made her tremble.

  “Cold?” he asked, tugging her down into the sleeping bag and zipping it around them. “You won’t be for long.” He smiled into her eyes as he ran his hands over her arm, hip, and then her thigh. His hand cupped her breast, thumbed her nipple, and then reached beneath her shirt. She was extra glad for her fresh layers and her sponge bath now. “Let me know when you’re warm enough to take this off.”

  She remembered his response to the tiger-print fleece, and boldness surged through her. She wriggled out of her shirt and tossed it across the tent.

  He groaned. “So fucking hot I can’t even stand it.” He thrust his hand beneath her bra and toyed with her nipple while he kissed her. The rough whisper of his emerging beard scraped her upper lip, and she winced.

  “What’s wrong?”

  How would he react if she criticized his kissing technique? Should she just suck it up and hope she didn’t end up losing an upper lip? He waited for her answer. Ethan would have shrugged and gone back to pleasing himself. Actually, Ethan wouldn’t have asked at all.

  Ethan has nothing to do with this!

  She took a deep breath and then stroked her finger first across his upper lip and then across the burning bow of her own. “Beard burn.”

  He grimaced. “Sorry, I didn’t pack a razor, either.” He stared at her lip for a few seconds and then grinned. “You kiss me then, and I’ll be careful.”

  “I don’t have a lot of experience taking the lead,” she admitted.

  “You didn’t kiss your husband?”

  “Ethan didn’t like kissing me.” But he’d been firmly lip-locked with the other woman he’d brought to their bed.

  He cocked his head to the side. “What about men before him?”

  “There were no men before him.”

  He grinned. “I can see why you need practice. I’m all yours.” He stretched out on his back with his hands behind his head.

  It should have intimidated her, but excitement made her stomach clench. She swallowed the saliva pooling in her mouth and slowly leaned to press her lips to his, being careful not to rub against the sandpaper edge of his upper lip. She lifted her head and found him smiling, daring her with his eyes. “Again.”

  She bent and took a longer taste. His mouth moved under hers, lips opening. His tongue gently flicked her lip in invitation, and she opened her mouth. Their tongues touched, stroked, and retreated, lips barely brushing. Need grew taut inside her belly, and she moved closer, bracing one hand on his chest. It felt like a wall of muscle, steel under her palm, and her breath caught. If he could touch her, she could touch him, too. She smiled into their kiss.

  “I don’t know what you’re thinking about, but I like it.”

  “I was thinking you’re overdressed.” She reached for the bottom of his shirt, and he helped her pull it over his head. She caught a peek of his tattoo, and her heart raced. His skin was warm and tan, and she couldn’t stop touching it. She’d never felt anything so hard yet soft. She’d imagined his hide would be rough, considering the things she’d seen him endure on his show. Her fingers touched hair, a thin line skating down his abdomen.

  He sucked in a harsh breath, and his eyes glittered. “I love your hands on me, but you’ve got about thirty more seconds of me at your mercy before I’ll need to get you under me. I promise to take the utmost care not to scrape your delicate skin with my face, but I need to taste you.”

  “Thirty seconds, huh?”

  “And counting.”

  She didn’t know what he had planned, but she wanted another of those addictive kisses. She slowly traced his lips. His tongue danced with hers for a second and then he reached up to cup the back of her neck, sealing their mouths together. A throb started low in her belly.

  Without losing contact with her lips, he hauled her on top of him. She felt his erection press against her and couldn’t help shifting her hips. He growled into her mouth. “I want you naked on top of me with your tongue in my mouth right now.”

  Her heart raced, her skin bloomed with sweat, and her core heated. At the same moment, fear shot a sickening spear of ice through her center. Donovan inspired her in ways no one ever had, but she still didn’t have a clue how to do this right. She couldn’t please him. She shouldn’t have said yes.

  “I want to see your tattoo,” she blurted out. “If I’ve only got a few more seconds to get what I want, then I want to see your tattoo. And touch it,” she added.

  He rolled to the side, depositing her beside him. “You can see and touch anything you want, sweetheart. I told you I’m all yours, but if you think this is about me getting what I want, you are dead wrong. This isn’t about me at all, so you keep those requests coming. I am completely open to suggestions.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and then slowly rolled. His big frame took up so much of the sleeping bag that he had to take it a few inches at a time before his back was to her.

  She held her breath to stifle a gasp. The intriguing flashes she’d caught on the TV screen had hinted at how amazing it might be, but she was still stunned. Air hissed out of her lungs as she reached to trace the edge of one spiraling horn. The ram’s head was superimposed on a burning mountaintop. Flames twined through the shaggy hair and licked the edges of the horns. Its eyes were furious, fierce, and determined, much like the gaze of the man looking over his shoulder at her. The intricate and mesmerizing design made it hard to tell whether the beast had conquered the mountain and set it on fire or if it had been born from the flames.

  She pressed her palm to his back, imagining she could feel the heat. “There�
�s got to be a story here.”

  The design rippled, seeming to move as he chuckled. “There was alcohol involved when the decision was made, but I was stone-cold sober by the time it was done. It took hours.”

  “I can imagine.” The tattoo covered half his back. “Did it hurt?”

  “Not the tattoo. My little brother and I were in New Orleans, doing the things guys do in one of the craziest towns in the world. Lance was an adventurer, always looking for the next challenge. He was fearless.”

  His use of the past tense made her heart thud. “Was?” she asked softly.

  “He died the year I started doing In the Wild. Leukemia. It was fast. God, it was so fast. The first treatment didn’t go well. If he wanted to ravage his body with drugs and radiation, he might have gotten a few more months. He chose to travel instead.”

  “Let me guess—New Orleans was on the itinerary?”

  “Exactly. He wanted to do everything on his bucket list, starting with Mardi Gras. Getting a tattoo was farther down the list, but we started talking to a woman in a Bourbon Street bar, and when Lance found out she was a traveling tattoo artist, that was it. We got inked.”

  “You certainly did.” She traced the spiral of each horn. “Why a ram?”

  “I left it up to them. I didn’t care what went on my back, I just wanted to spend time with my brother and have a connection to him forever, you know?” His voice thickened. “But I’m glad he chose something I could live with. Don’t laugh, but it’s my zodiac sign. I’m an Aries, a fire sign—hence the ram and the flames.”

  “And the mountain?”

  He turned away. “Lance wasn’t going to be climbing any more mountains with me, so I promised I’d keep climbing for him. Maybe Everest someday.”

  Her breath caught. “What tattoo did your brother get?”

  “He asked to be surprised, too, and we stayed an extra day while she drew up the design.” She heard a smile in his voice. “She gave him wings.”

  Tears welled in her eyes, and her throat tightened. She pressed a kiss between the ram’s bright eyes, right between his shoulder blades. “Is that why you push yourself so hard? I watched all three seasons of In the Wild last week, and you scared the hell out of me.”

  He shrugged and then glanced over his shoulder again, as if asking for permission to turn back around. She nodded, and he rolled to face her. “It’s probably part of it, but I don’t think I know how to stop. If I don’t have a half-dozen projects going on at the same time and two years’ worth of trips planned, I get itchy. I love a challenge. New experiences are my drug of choice, and the world is full of mountains to climb.”

  She glanced down at his hand, which had found its way to her breast again, and arched a brow. “Am I your current challenge? Your mountain of the day?” His fingers stroked, shooting pleasure to the roots of her hair, flowing down through her center, and making her toes warm.

  “Not anymore. Victory is in my hands. Literally.”

  She smacked his shoulder. His eyes flashed a warning, but before she could react, he was on top of her again. “I hope I didn’t kill the mood.”

  “Nope.” She laid her hand on his chest and traced his collarbone to the point of his shoulder, cupping the firm pad of his biceps and then following her route back to his broad sternum. She loved having so much strength under her hands. It was becoming clearer by the minute that he was nothing like Ethan at all, and the peek inside his head had splintered her remaining defenses.

  “I was attracted to you the minute I saw you.” The words were out before she acknowledged that she wanted to share something of herself in return. “In the elevator. I pretended I didn’t like you because you reminded me of my ex-husband. I assumed you were another egotistical jerk who thought he was God’s gift to women, and I wanted to knock you down a peg.”

  “You have to hit this ego harder than that to dent it. Unlike your ex, I deserve my reputation with the ladies.” He winked, and something inside her caught fire. It was the same wink he’d given Holly that day in the office, the one that had no doubt reduced scores of other women to kindling, just as she was burning now. She didn’t care. A connection had formed between them in the last few minutes, and her fears vanished.

  His eyes darkened. “Can I get you naked now?”

  “Yes.”

  His deep groan of satisfaction made her eyelids dip and her body thrum with anticipation. His hands were sure as they gripped the bottom elastic of her sports bra and maneuvered her out of it. He reached for her panties, scooting lower in the bag.

  When they were off, he kept moving downward, and she tensed. “Where are you going?”

  “The first time I saw you I had a fantasy of running my tongue up the back of your calf.” He trapped her ankles. “Hold still, damn it. There’s not a lot of room down here.” His voice was muffled.

  “We could have zipped the bags together if you hadn’t doused mine.”

  “Desperate times call for desperate measures. I had to cut off your escape route.”

  She giggled as his tongue traced up the back of her leg. “You’ll suffocate down there.”

  “I plan to drown myself instead.” He neatly flipped her and settled between her thighs. She tugged at his shoulders, trying to pull him back up, but she would have had better luck moving a boulder. Her doubts rushed back. “Whoa, hey, I don’t think you want to do that.”

  “Bullshit.” He grinned and leaned forward.

  She crab-crawled away from his mouth. A baby wipe could only do so much, and she’d been hiking for two days. Ethan had hated going down on her. “Uh, I don’t think…can’t we just…um…”

  He stopped her progress with a heavy hand on each thigh. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do, but don’t stop me because you think I’m going to do something I don’t want to do.” His breath whispered against her bare skin, making her ache. What would his tongue feel like? She felt herself getting wet, almost able to forget about her self-consciousness, but not quite.

  He moved an inch closer. “I never do anything I don’t want to do.”

  She braced her hands on his shoulders. “What about this show? You didn’t want to film with me.”

  “I didn’t want to film with you before I met you.”

  He climbed back up beside her, curling the long length of his body around hers. Disappointment squeezed the air out of her lungs, and she closed her eyes, cursing the stupid baggage that had just lost her what would likely have been a transformative experience. Why did she care what he thought of her?

  “It didn’t take long to change my mind. I began picturing you in nothing but those pink heels, and filming was the least of what I wanted to do with you.” He gathered her to his chest, pressing the evidence of his desire firmly against her hip. “Let’s make a deal. I’ll make you come with my fingers, and then I get to do it again any other way I want, provided it can’t get you pregnant, communicate the diseases I swear I don’t have, or get us arrested in any U.S. state. Does that sound fair?” He nuzzled her temple. “I’m sorry I rushed you.”

  She opened her mouth to say he hadn’t, but it would have been a lie. Instead, she told the truth. “I want to do this, but I’m scared.”

  “Scared of what?”

  “That it will take forever, and you’ll get impatient and angry, and I’ll feel like an idiot.”

  His mouth settled over hers, softly seducing. His tongue stroked hers, and she felt it between her legs. She swallowed a moan. His hand caressed her arm and waist, coasting over her curves, before sliding between her thighs. “I don’t care if it takes all night. If it takes longer than that, we’ll stay in the tent tomorrow. Trust me, I’ve got you.” He spoke in between kisses. “Give me a chance.”

  His eyes blazed into hers with fierce determination that filled her with certainty, too.

  She nodded.

  He lifted her leg over his hip and continued kissing her. She gasped into his mouth as he stroked through her folds, hitting a
hot spot that made every muscle in her body spasm. He circled the spot, as if to let her know he’d be back, and then continued his exploration, sliding a finger inside her. Their tongues tangled and danced, lips barely touching. What if it did take all night? She silenced her doubts. She wouldn’t worry yet. They’d barely begun. Maybe in a little while…

  He returned to the fiery spot he’d marked earlier and circled, teased, and flicked with a featherlight touch that made her hips strain toward his hand. Then he retreated. She groaned and choked it off as soon as she realized what she was doing. She opened her eyes and found him watching her. Deliberately, his hand returned to the same spot, making her hotter.

  “So fucking sexy,” he whispered, nipping her lower lip.

  Now the slight scrape of his beard was erotic, a sharp counterpoint to the softness of his touch. He kissed her neck, licking his way down to her breasts as his fingers slid inside her, creating pressure and building tension. She held her breath, catching the edge of a wave of pleasure, wondering if it would pull her under or toss her away, rejected. Darkness built, threatening her with old memories, and she sagged, wishing she could sink into the floor of the tent and disappear.

  “Oh no, you don’t. No thinking.” He spoke against her breast, capturing her nipple with his teeth while his fingers set fire to her core. A cry burst from her throat, and she arched toward him, searching wildly for an anchor.

  He lifted his head and caught her gaze. His hand moved faster, and the darkness receded. She tensed as the waves built, higher and tighter. She clung to his shoulders, unable to control her whimpers or the way she moved against his hand. This didn’t feel anything like the fast, short orgasms she’d had by herself. This was different. She felt his gaze on her body as intensely as his touch, and the unpredictable rhythm of his fingers and tongue kept her on the edge, carrying her higher. What was going to happen when she broke? What if she didn’t?

  He smiled into her eyes and brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them. The unexpected eroticism stunned her, and when he touched her again, his fingers were wet and silky smooth, gliding over her, into her, firmly, with irresistible pressure. She snapped, clenching hard. Ecstasy spun through her, an almost painful surge of relief. He gazed down at her, making her feel as if he were eating up her every tiny response to his movement. He pressed harder, moved faster, and a cry burst from her lips. He crushed his mouth to hers, silencing her scream.