Hard loving man

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Hard loving man Page 16

by Lorraine Heath


  He slowly shook his head. “But if you’ve still got doubts about us, then you probably should leave.”

  “And if I stay?”

  With his hands, he bracketed either side of her face, angled her head, and lowered his mouth to hers, hot and determined, his tongue delving deeply, sweeping away any doubts that might have lingered.

  She placed her hand on his chest and felt the steady, rapid pounding of his heart beneath her fingers. She was a grown woman, old enough to know her own mind, still exploring the maze of her own heart. Regardless, she was certain that she wanted to be here now, with him, this moment.

  He tore his mouth from hers, desire and hunger in his eyes, his breathing labored. “You’ve got two choices. You open the front door and walk out, or we close the door to Jason’s bedroom.”

  “Jason’s at Serena’s. She and I thought it best. We didn’t know how late you’d be or if he’d be comfortable having someone he only recently met take care of him.”

  “Then your choice is to walk out through the front door or walk through my bedroom door.”

  In answer, she rose up on her toes and pressed her mouth to his. His guttural groan echoed throughout the kitchen before he broke off the kiss.

  “Be sure, Kelley. Be damned sure.”

  “I am.”

  He lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her leisurely, deeply, as though moments weren’t ticking by, as though they had all night, as though they were the only two in the world and nothing, no one, would intrude on them.

  He kissed her chin, her neck. “I need a shower first. Join me?”

  Without waiting for an answer, he took her hand and led her toward his bedroom. Not with the over-eagerness and zealousness of his youth but with a maturity tempered by resolve.

  With the outside lights peering around the edges of the curtains, the room wasn’t in total darkness. He was as neat here as he was elsewhere, his needs met with a large four-poster bed, nightstands framing each side of it, and a dresser.

  He slid his arm around her and guided her through the shadows to another door, another room, illuminated only by a night-light. She didn’t mind the intimacy of the darkness, preferred it really. Secrets were more easily kept here.

  Moving away from her, he crossed the room and turned on the shower. He walked back to her, settled his mouth over hers, and bunched his hands around the hem of her shirt. He lifted it, breaking off the kiss only long enough to get her shirt over her head.

  And it was as though the floodgates on his desire had been unleashed. His mouth turned hot, hungry, demanding, his tongue thrusting to reclaim territory with a feral possessiveness. His hands, equally demanding, removed his clothes, helped her to remove hers.

  When he was completely nude, she wondered why she’d bothered to fight the attraction. He was more gorgeous than she remembered, muscles corded and defined. She skimmed her fingers over the light covering of hair on his chest that arrowed down toward his belly. She considered journeying downward, but she wasn’t nearly as bold as he. She feathered her fingers over his chest, over his hard nipples, felt the rumble of his broad chest against her palms as he groaned.

  His eyes darkened with intent as he took her hand, brought it to his mouth, and kissed her palm. Tightening his hold, he walked backward and pulled her with him into the shower.

  He took the brunt of the pelting water against his back while his mouth descended on hers, to continue the assault he’d begun earlier, sending her senses reeling, her passions soaring. It was sweet surrender to rise up on her toes and loop her arms around his strong, sturdy shoulders. The warm water ran over them, between them, pooling at their feet. She was vaguely aware of his hands near her but not touching her, and she desperately wanted him to touch her. She parried her tongue around his mouth, wanting him closer, as close as he could get. She released a frustrated mewling sound, which caused him to chuckle even as he continued the kiss.

  Then his large soap-covered hands were gliding over her back, her buttocks, around her sides to her stomach, over her breasts. They lingered there, his palms cradling the weight while his fingers taunted her nipples. She hadn’t expected a leisurely shower. Yet it was as sensual as anything she’d ever experienced.

  He broke off the kiss, lathered up more soap, and, holding her gaze, with barely an inch separating them, he went to work on his own body—not with the slow, careful, gliding motions he’d used on her but with a hurried scrubbing that spoke of his impatience.

  She pressed her palms flat against his chest, which was so different from what she’d touched before. She was amazed that nine years could bring so many changes. He’d truly been a boy on the cusp of manhood, and now he was a man to be reckoned with. Her hands became as soapy as his. Lowering them, she cupped him before slowly, leisurely stroking him. He emitted a guttural groan, slammed his eyes closed, and dropped his head back.

  She relished the power she had over him, discovered that it ignited her passions with a fervor equal to his. He opened eyes that had deepened to midnight.

  “You little witch,” he rasped. “Keep that up, and I’m not going to make it to the bed.”

  She gave him what she truly hoped was a seductive smile. “I am keeping it up.”

  Chuckling low, he bracketed his hands on either side of her hips, pulled her to him, and kissed her. Then his hands were gliding over her again, directing the water, removing the lather until none remained. Dipping his head, he trailed his mouth along her throat, down lower to her breasts, kissing, suckling, lapping up droplets of water that were quickly replaced.

  He moved her as effortlessly as the sun pushed back the night, until her back was pressed against the tiled wall. Its coolness sent a shiver through her that was in direct contrast to the heat caused by his slick hand caressing her breasts, her stomach, before moving lower. Moaning, she clamped his shoulders as his fingers skillfully parted her silken folds, as his thumb circled and stroked. Her body hummed, her knees grew weak.

  “Jack, I can’t hold on much longer.”

  “Then don’t.”

  He increased the pressure, slipping his finger inside her as a shattering orgasm swept through her. He cupped the back of her head with his other hand, covered her mouth with his, and captured her cry of ecstasy.

  She loosened her hold on his shoulders; her quivering body wanted to melt to the floor of the tub. And if he hadn’t snaked his arm around her and drawn her up flush against his taut body, she thought she might already be on the floor, limp and sated. He shut off the shower, wrapped a towel around her, and lifted her into his arms.

  “Been a while?” he asked as he carried her into the bedroom.

  She wound her arms around his neck, nestled her face against his shoulder, and laughed lightly. “You have no idea.”

  He laid her on the bed, quickly ran the towel over her relaxed body, then over his own, before tossing it aside and stretching out beside her, a satisfied male grin on his handsome face. She ran her fingers up into his damp hair, wondering why it wasn’t until this moment that she realized the one thing that Jack Morgan had never been was selfish.

  Cradling his face between her hands, she pulled him down, kissing him with as much enthusiasm as her sated body would allow. She couldn’t believe how quickly he’d ignited her passion, how easily he seemed to be doing it again. It seemed his nearness was all she needed in order to ignite. She once again found herself hot, bothered, and turning toward him.

  He kneaded her breast, his thumb circling her nipple which had already tightened into a hardened pearl. With his knee, he nudged her thighs apart. Then he nestled himself between her legs and scooted down, kissing her chin, her throat, her breasts, while she did little more than run her fingers through his hair, over his shoulders, and along his back. She stroked his calves with the soles of her feet.

  He slid lower. With his tongue, he circled her navel, dipping inside. He lapped at the hollow of her hips. Then he moved lower still, his heated breath wafting over her flesh, s
ending shivers shimmering up her spine. He kissed the inside of her thigh, and warmth poured through her.

  “I wanted to do this before,” he whispered huskily. He pressed his face to her curls.

  “Why didn’t you?”

  He lifted his gaze to hers. All they had was the light from the bathroom, but it was enough for her to see the earnestness in his face. “I was scared. Scared you’d say no. Scared I’d do it wrong.”

  She couldn’t imagine Jack Morgan being afraid of anything. Jack Morgan, who had sauntered confidently through the hallways as though he’d owned them. Jack Morgan of the heated looks and the knowing grins. Jack Morgan, who had stood before her with his graduation cap pressed against his chest. She thought she’d known him so well, and yet the boy in her classroom never would have confessed to fearing anything.

  She trailed her fingers along the jaw of this complicated man who could excite her and humble her with the same look. “Are you afraid now?”

  “Yeah, but not for the same reasons. Aren’t you?”

  Not waiting for her answer—she wasn’t certain he expected one—he spread her legs farther apart, opening her up to his eager mouth, his questing tongue, silk against velvet.

  “Oh, God,” she murmured on a breathless sigh.

  Incredible sensations dipped and swirled through her, mimicking his skillful actions. Sliding his hands beneath her quivering hips, he lifted her slightly. The pleasure increased, intensified, rippled through her, curling her toes, curling her body. She hadn’t expected to peak again, not so soon, not with such force.

  Her body bucked, her back arched, and he wasn’t there this time to capture her cry as her climax cascaded through her in undulating waves. She lay there breathing heavily, gasping, wondering if her body might simply dissolve into the sheets.

  He kissed the inside of each thigh, her stomach, her ribs, her breasts, her throat. Leaving her, he leaned partway off the bed and opened a drawer in the nightstand. He tore open a foil packet and slipped on the condom before rolling back to be with her.

  Resting on his elbows, he cradled her face between his large hands and kissed her with a languid power that hinted he wasn’t finished with her yet. Then he rose above her. She watched the emotions wash over his face as he entered her, inch by inch, moan by moan, sigh by sigh.

  With another groan, he pushed with more insistence until she’d completely taken his full, glorious length. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he began to pump his hips against hers. Long, sure, determined strokes.

  She met each thrust, matching his rhythm, her body in tune with his as though they’d been made for each other. The sensations began to build, to escalate, to intensify. She hadn’t expected that he had the power to bring her to full force again, and yet here she was hovering on the brink, digging her fingers into his tight buttocks, hanging on for dear life while the pleasure spiraled out of control.

  When she catapulted into ecstasy, he followed right behind her, his back arching, his final thrust burying him deeply within her, his feral groan of satisfaction echoing around her.

  Lying on his back with Kelley nestled against his side, Jack breathed heavily while his hand lazily stroked her arm, belying the hard pounding of his heart, the loud rushing of blood still thrumming through his ears.

  Replete and exhausted, he thought he’d be content to lie there forever. His release had been more intense than he’d experienced in a good long while. More gratifying. The fine sheen of sweat covering his body didn’t seem to bother Kelley as she trailed her finger over his chest. But then, she was equally damp.

  Tonight for the first time since he’d moved into the house, he felt as if his backyard had been exactly as he’d imagined it when he built the deck. Oh, he’d had Serena and Riker over countless times on autumn nights with a fire in the chimenea, steaks on the grill, a beer in hand, and pleasant conversation. Still, always before, there was that sense of being alone, of not truly belonging. Of being that kid staying up all night Christmas Eve, staring out the window, desperately hoping that bicycle would miraculously appear. The year he’d given up, the year he’d crawled into bed and pulled the blankets over his head so no one would hear him cry, that was the year he awoke and found the bike resting against the side of the trailer.

  Just like tonight. Not too long ago, he’d given up hoping that the loneliness would ever ease. And then Kelley had walked back into his life and filled it so full that he almost couldn’t remember what it was that he’d thought he was lacking.

  Glancing down at the top of her head, he combed her hair off her face. “Can you stay the night?”

  She tilted her head back until he could look into her eyes. The dim light from the bathroom gave her a soft glow. “No, Madison went to a movie with Rick and Chris. I need to get home to check on her.”

  “Kids are a pain.”

  “Not always.” Softness touched her eyes as she rose up on her elbow and traced her fingers around his face. “I found your stash of romance novels.”

  He groaned. “Serena got me hooked on them when I was recovering from a wound.”

  “While you were in the army?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Where were you wounded?”

  “Took a bullet in the leg.”

  “I hate thinking of you wounded. You could have been killed.”

  “But I wasn’t.”

  “There’s so much about your past that I don’t know.”

  “All that matters is now.”

  An emotion touched her eyes that he couldn’t quite figure out.

  “Do you mean that, Jack?”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  She looked doubtful, and he couldn’t imagine why.

  “Serena invited us to spend next weekend with you at the beach. I don’t know if that’s such a good idea now.”

  “Why?”

  She released a tiny, self-conscious laugh and swept her hand across the length of his body. “Well, for one thing, this. We’d have to behave—”

  “I can behave. I want to spend more time with you. At the beach, I won’t have to duck out because of a phone call. It’ll give you a chance to get to know Jason better.”

  “All right. I’ll let her know.” She looked past him to the clock on his nightstand. “I need to get home.”

  He rolled over until he was covering her. “My gas tank isn’t nearly empty enough. How about one for the road?”

  Chapter 15

  “God, this is so boring. I can’t believe we’re wasting the whole weekend here.”

  “Madison, can’t you at least try to enjoy it?” Kelley asked, grateful that Serena was lost in the pages of a romance novel—or pretending to be—and wasn’t giving any attention to Madison’s constant deep sighs and eye rolling. The three of them were sitting on towels spread over mesh lounge chairs while Jack and the boys were fishing a short distance away at the edge of the bay.

  They’d arrived late last night in Serena’s minivan. True to her description, the house had a peaceful element to it. Raised on stilts, the lower section was nothing more than a storage area and the entryway to the inner stairwell that led to the second floor.

  The second floor had a kitchen and a living area with windows all around, a balcony, and a large bedroom.

  The third floor was three more bedrooms and narrow stairs that led to the crow’s nest. Serena had her own room. Kelley and Madison were sharing a room. The boys ran up and down between their bedroom and the crow’s nest, which was so small it barely had room for their sleeping bags.

  “I mean, honestly, who comes to the beach in the fall?” Madison asked. “It’s totally lame. The water is too cold for swimming, and it’s not hot enough to sunbathe.”

  “Madison, it’s all about relaxing, getting away—”

  “It’s all about boredom.”

  Kelley gnashed her teeth. She could tell Madison to behave, but she had yet to figure out how to make her enjoy herself. “Go fish with Jack and the boys.”


  “Ew! I don’t think so. He’s using live critters. Worms or shrimp or something that make an awful sound in the bucket while they’re waiting to be selected. It’s barbaric.”

  “I’m sure he’ll bait your hook.”

  “Boring.”

  “Madison, can’t you at least try to be a good sport about this? It was nice of them to invite us—”

  “I’d rather go to a funeral.”

  “That can be arranged,” Serena said.

  Madison’s eyes popped wide open, and Kelley bit back her smile. Why did it seem so much easier for others to put this child in her place? Kelley had no trouble managing a class of thirty students, but one sixteen-year-old who was now her complete responsibility seemed beyond her capabilities. Probably because she wanted so badly to be a perfect mom to Madison, and instead she was a constant failure.

  Jack turned away from the boys and strode to where Kelley, Serena, and Madison were sitting. Like the boys, he was dressed in jeans, a white T-shirt, tennis shoes, and a gimme cap that had the Houston Texans’ red and white bull emblazoned it. He and the boys were a matching trio, about as relaxed as three guys could get.

  “Everybody having fun?” Jack asked.

  “Yes!” Kelley and Serena said at the same time, a little too enthusiastically, Kelley thought, as though they both anticipated a complaint from Madison and wanted to drown it out.

  Madison slunk down farther on her lounge chair, her arms shoved up beneath her breasts.

  “What’s the matter, kid, aren’t you having fun?”

  “There’s no one around here.”

  “There usually aren’t many people on the bay side. That’s why we like it. But you can walk up the road to the surf side. There’s bound to be a few people out.”

  “Maybe you haven’t noticed, but this isn’t exactly summer.”

  “So? Fun isn’t seasonal.”

  “You wouldn’t know fun if it bit you on the butt.”

  “Madison—” Kelley began, but Jack held up a hand.

 

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