by Wendi Darlin
“We won’t be here tomorrow night. We’ll be gone all day.”
“I hope she’s who you think she is,” Garrett said. “I really do, but I’m going to bed and deal with my own problems.”
Gavin leaned against the counter, dialed John and finished his beer.
When he’d taken care of the only thing he could think to do, and thanked his stars for the digital age, he threw the bottle in the trash and turned off the kitchen lights.
In his room, Gavin stepped out of his jeans and pulled his shirt over his head. His bed wouldn’t ever get any emptier than it was tonight. He was reaching for the band of his boxer briefs when his phone rang.
“What are you calling for?” His words were softened by the smile on his face.
“You never brought me my belt,” Rebecca said. Her voice made him want her all over again, even more than before.
“And you need it now?” His heart was slamming blood to every part of his body, his dick already standing at attention waiting for direction.
“Right now. I need it desperately.” There was no mistaking the tone of her voice or what it was she needed.
“I thought we agreed I should come home.” He couldn’t turn her down. Not again. Not any more.
“I had an idea.”
“Another game?” He was already pulling a t-shirt out of his drawer.
“No. No more games.”
Screw the security cameras. There were ways around them, and they’d have more privacy in her cabin than across the hall from Garrett.
* * * *
Before the door of Rebecca’s cabin clicked into place behind them, Gavin reached inside her robe, covered her bare bottom with his hands, and lifted her onto his hips. The effortless way he handled her churned something on a molecular level, struck her basic female craving for a man with brute strength. The rush of excitement emanated from her womb and hurried lower, hovering between her thighs. His body screamed man so loud, hers just wanted to wrap around him and tuck him inside. She wanted him to make her whole again, to take the emptiness away. To fill the cavity in her soul.
“I thought you’d never get here,” she breathed into his ear. He was all soft fabrics and hard muscles, not looking anything like a cowboy, and if anything, that made her hotter for him. Made him more real. More exactly what she needed. She raked her fingers through his hair, loving that she could touch him the way she had wanted to the first time she saw him. That he wanted her hands on him, and wanted to touch her, too. For tonight that was enough.
His eyes were intent on hers. In the pale moonlight that slipped through the window she could see deep into him. And her every instinct rallied against the distrustful corner of her brain. Her feelings for Gavin Carter were rooted so much deeper than she was willing to examine.
“What do you want to do first?” she asked.
“Feel and taste every inch of you. Find out exactly what turns you on, and I want to hear how much you like it.” His words echoed her plans for him to the letter, easing any niggling doubt that she was in the arms of the wrong person.
“Can you always read my mind?” she asked as he walked her over to the bed and followed her down, bracing his arms at either side of her head. She didn’t expect him to understand how precious physical contact had become to her. How until this week, until she’d met him, the simple act of touching another person had been missing so completely from her life that she ached for it to the point of distraction. He had given her a gift without knowing what a treasure it was, one that she would hold onto long after she returned home. She grabbed the back of his t-shirt, bunching the fabric together as she worked the bottom of it up to her fingers. “I want to feel you against me, nothing between us,” she told him.
He sat back on his knees and lifted the shirt over his head. He had been hiding something good under that cowboy getup. Something that turned her long pent-up desire to pure liquid heat. She pulled his shirt off his arms and threw it to the floor. A smarter woman would have left the lights on. Too late now. She wasn’t leaving the bed for anything. She swallowed hard, salivating like one of Pavlov’s dogs as he moved toward her, his knees between hers. She caught his hands and laced their fingers.
“Me first.” She resisted the urge to press herself against him or pull him down on top of her, opting instead to hold him with her eyes. “Just let me look at you for a minute.” Every muscle of his chest was defined and tense. His shoulders were strong and round. She traced every line, starting high and working her way down to his abs, shadowed in the semi-darkness. He let her take her time, but when she flattened her hands against his stomach and her fingertips edged beneath his waistband he straightened. She tried to follow but he gently pushed her back onto the mattress and reached for her ankle.
“My turn,” he said.
Her legs trembled in anticipation as he raised her calf to his shoulder and her robe fell open to her thigh. His eyes followed the trail of skin and she bit down on her lip until the pinch of her teeth brought a tear to her eye. From his sharp intake of breath and the way his grip tightened around her ankle she guessed he liked what he saw.
He stroked her leg and kissed the inside of her ankle. She fought to memorize every movement, bank it in her memory for later, but it was hard to concentrate on anything beyond the smooth heat of his shoulder beneath her leg. Why had she waited so long for this? What had she been so afraid of? He obviously wasn’t in the business of hurting her. She felt so safe, so secure.
Their ragged breaths were the only sounds until her leg slipped on his shoulder, damp from the heat between them, and a low needy moan crept from her throat. She was more desperate for him than she’d known. Her muscles tensed as he stroked from her ankle to her shin, his fingers brushing the bone, treating her as fragile as china. She sucked in her breath as he reached her knee and spread his hand across her thigh climbing higher still.
“Kiss me.” She didn’t ask. Her need was too urgent.
He ran his hand over her hip and up her side. His erection pressed into her thigh and his mouth found hers. Their lips and tongues met in a kiss there was no turning back from. She wound her other leg around his back and pulled him to her.
“Touch me,” she breathed, bringing her knee higher.
“I’m going to touch you all over,” he whispered in her ear, his hand followed the line of her body back down her thigh. “Everywhere.”
The robe was still knotted at her waist, but the two sides were no longer overlapping. She lay beneath him, hot, wet, and completely exposed, but never more at ease with a man.
“I don’t think I can wait another second,” she said.
“Yes, you can,” he promised. His mouth came down to her again. His tongue brushed her ear, traveled down her neck and joined his lips on her collarbone. He moved to gently suck the hollow of her throat. Then lower, his mouth met her breast and moved over the hardened peak, hungry. He was so hungry. She dug her hands into his hair and cried out.
“Please,” she begged. “I need you.”
His mouth found her other breast at the same time his hand slid between her legs. He dipped his fingers in her wetness and moved them over her in a rhythm that quickly became too much. Her breath came in shallow gasps and just when she thought she was going to slip over the edge, he entered her with those same sweet fingers and drove her to new heights.
“Don’t stop. Please. Don’t stop.”
His mouth never left her breast, his fingers never stopped. She arched her back, throwing her head into the pillow. “Aaaahhhh. Oh my God!” she screamed, shocked by the suddenness of her orgasm. The spasms that tore through her trapped his hand between her legs. He moved his tongue over her breast until the last of the tremors subsided and he could retrieve his hand.
“You did need that.” His breath was on her lips, and his eyes above hers were filled with his own need. “Feel better?”
“For a minute. But I should warn you, it doesn’t do any good to make me come that fast. I won�
��t be finished with you for a while.” She lifted her mouth to his and pushed herself up, rolling him onto his back.
On her knees beside him she ran her hands over his chest, brushing his nipples with her palms. She brought her tongue to one of them. His body was so hard. So smooth. So warm. So alive. She wanted to lie on top of him, cover him like a blanket and have him wrap her in his arms so she could listen to his heart, feel his breath in her hair, breathe the intoxicating scent of him. She wanted to experience the realness of this man in her bed. She continued dragging her tongue across the tight knot of flesh on his chiseled chest, drawing circles around it and sucking it while her hands worked the sweatpants over his hips. A low groan rumbled in his throat. She kissed her way down his abdomen, pushing the pants down his legs and finally past his ankles. They fell to the floor.
In the darkness it was hard to see anything but the contours of his muscular thighs and the thick tip of his erection peeking from the elastic waistband of his boxer briefs.
“Where’s my belt?” she asked, her heart racing.
“By the door.”
“Don’t move,” she instructed.
“What are you doing?”
She kissed his chest again and trailed her fingers down his stomach. “Don’t worry, I’ll be nice. Very, very nice.”
She found the belt on the floor where he had dropped it, hurried back to the bed and straddled him, her knees at either side of his hips. “You didn’t miss me, did you?” she asked rubbing herself along the wide ridge of his erection while she looped the belt through the headboard above him. His hands on her waist guided her along his gloriously long length as he pressed for harder contact and awoke every need she’d ever known.
Her hands trembled as her muscles fought to catch the frenzy of signals sent through her nerves. After several fumbles, she drew the end of the belt through the buckle and reached for his hand.
“I can’t let you do that,” he said, resisting.
“Don’t you trust me?”
His arm relaxed and he let her slip the belt around his wrist. He sat up, taking her breast into his mouth. His other hand circled her back. His cock moved beneath her, the bare tip slipping over the most sensitive part of her, making it hard to think. Hard to breathe. And nearly impossible to not invite him lower, welcome him into her body with a fully fevered joining. If she didn’t take control fast, they’d be having unprotected sex and she wouldn’t care enough to stop it.
“Lie down.” Her voice was commanding as she reached back to take his other hand. She tugged it into place and tightened the belt. There was no simple way to secure the loop tight enough to keep him from getting loose, and she didn’t really care to. She only wanted to relieve him of some of the control he had exercised all week, to remove some of the burden she had put on him with her constant teasing and ready tears.
Her lips trembled on his as he lowered himself to the bed and she moved over him, lifting herself above him, allowing only the slightest contact. “You’re on the honor system,” she said, her breath on his ear. “You’re going to have to pretend you can’t get out of this, and I’m going to trust you to stay where I put you.” Her breasts pressed into his chest and she teased his earlobe with her tongue. “Can I trust you?”
“I’ll try.” His words staggered. “No promises.”
She positioned herself between his legs and removed his boxer briefs. Just as she had suspected, he was perfect. Better than perfect. And so much more than she could resist. She gave him an animated cowboy wink and took him in her hand. He was stretched smoother than silk beneath her touch. Every curve and line reminded her of why she loved men. He groaned and threw his head back as she moved her palm up and down his shaft.
“Just tell me what you like,” she said, but before he could answer, her lips closed around him forcing the breath from his lungs. Her tongue covered him, tasting him again and again. She drew a line with her lips from tip to base and back to where she started then took all of him in her mouth. Her hand closed around his sac, and she pulled just enough to make him reach for the back of her head.
“Oh, honey!” he cried. His fingers wound through her hair. Either he hadn’t tried very hard to keep his hands in the belt, or she had a bigger effect on him than he had expected.
“Just like that,” he said between heavy breaths. “Exactly like that.”
She gave him what he wanted, loving it as much as he did, knowing there was no turning back, and that she was making him as crazy as he made her. She wanted to please him. To know the scents and tastes and textures of his body so well she could recall them automatically. There was nothing one-sided about this connection they had.
From the sounds he was making if she didn’t stop soon she was going to taste a lot more of him. She had to stop. The ache inside her was growing. There was somewhere else he needed to be, and she needed him there desperately. But she wanted to give him all the pleasure she was capable of. She couldn’t stop. He was enjoying the warmth of her mouth too much. She was enjoying the taste of him too much.
A tremor shook her hand and his skin strained against another swell. He shot up, grabbed her beneath the arms and crushed her against his chest while he came. His cock slid between the belt of her robe and the soft then wet skin of her stomach. He tensed against her. A smile stretched her lips as the tendons in his neck strained, and his face contorted in pleasure. She kissed him as his lungs fought to settle back to a normal pace.
He ran his hands up her back and rolled her over. His kisses were fevered, and full of desire for a deeper connection. She lost herself in his mouth, in him.
“There are so many ways I want to make love to you,” he said. He untied the belt around her waist and lifted her up enough to drag the robe from beneath her. He wiped her stomach with it and tossed it to the floor.
“What have you got in mind?” she asked, ready for anything. Absolutely anything.
“I’ll do whatever you want to do.” He pushed her knees apart and slid his palms along the inside of her thighs as he gently pressed them toward the bed. “Let me know when you think of something.” He lowered his head. His tongue found her, drove inside then burned a pleasure trail everywhere it touched. She squirmed beneath him, but he held her still, keeping her exactly where he wanted her. How could he so easily give her exactly what she needed never having touched her body before? She dug her fingers into the comforter and told him over and over how amazing he was, until her words became a series of incoherent sounds. His lips closed around her, his tongue never stopped moving. Her voice grew louder as she held on and every cell in her body bounced like a ping pong ball in an earthquake. Her legs quivered between his hands and the bed, until she couldn’t stand for another second not to feel him deeper.
“I need you,” she moaned. “I need you inside me.” God, why had she let him come?
Gavin sat up, but kept his thumb against the center of her pleasure. Her blood pulsed beneath the pressure of his touch. Without taking his hand from her, he brought his lips down to hers and entered her again with his fingers, stretching deep, seeking the spot that would release everything spooled inside her.
“Come for me again,” he said. “I love to make you come. I want to hear you scream my name.”
She pushed his shoulder down until his mouth found her breast. “You got it right the first time,” she said. “Don’t change a thing.”
“One thing,” he said, taking his fingers from her. She bucked in frustration as the wave that was building at the base of her spine ebbed. His mouth never left her breast, but his hand patted the mattress and the sound of the condom package tearing open sent a shiver up her back.
Within seconds his nose was brushing hers, his lips urging hers. The broad tip of his erection slid between her folds. The instant their tongues met, he pushed himself into her. They cried into one another’s mouths. His strong back trembled beneath her hands. Her body sang. She wanted to touch him everywhere at once. To feel him with every part
of her. He pulled back and moved into her again slowly, seating himself so deep she moaned in unadulterated ecstasy.
“Rebecca,” he breathed as their hips met and he drew away only to find her again. “I can’t get enough of you.”
She spread her legs wider, tilted her hips to give more access. He responded, lengthening his stroke, entering her fully, again and again. Their slick bodies glided over one another. The sounds of their desire filled the room, rang in her ears while her whole body danced with his, devoured him with an urgency she couldn’t control. Didn’t care to control. She felt him in her lungs, her mind, her heart, every part of her. The more he gave the more she wanted. Her breath became disjointed. Her muscles began to tighten around him. She wasn’t ready to find her release. She didn’t want this to end. Not yet, she begged, but the inevitable was on its way, and in a hurry to get there.
“Not yet,” Gavin panted. She hadn’t realized she had spoken. Maybe he read her mind. Or her body.
It didn’t matter what either of them thought or said, when he pushed himself deep again she lost herself completely, screaming his name in the darkness, and closing more tightly around him than she had before. He followed her, shouting as he poured himself into her.
In the darkness they lay perfectly still, neither wanting to break the connection. He held himself on his elbows, his hair falling against her cheek, and when his breath resumed a normal pace he kissed her. A kiss meant to assure her she hadn’t made a mistake, his tongue caressing hers, their bodies still joined, the weight of him pressing her into the mattress. No matter what happened next, this moment wasn’t a mistake, this was salve to her deepest wound. He shifted, rolling her into his arms, holding her close.
“Whatever it was for you,” she whispered, her lips brushing his neck, “that felt like making love to me.” She didn’t have to tell him how deep her feelings ran, but she was nothing in bed if not honest. And open. She didn’t want to change that part of herself.