IN OVER HIS HEAD

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IN OVER HIS HEAD Page 7

by Jacquie D'Alessandro


  Dipping his head, he ran kisses down her throat, then circled his tongue around her nipple before taking the tight bud into his mouth.

  Lexie threw her head back, and simply let the sensations wash through her. An ache of deep want pulled at her, from where his mouth caressed her breast, down to her core. She felt hot, and impatient, and wanted them both naked. But his mouth was so warm and seductive, distracting her from her goal of ridding him of his jeans.

  And before she could regroup, he gently urged her back until she sat on the bed. He dropped to his knees in front of her, lifting her foot to slowly remove her sandal. He caressed her bare foot, running the pad of his thumb up her instep, shooting delight up her leg. He looked up at her, and her breath caught at the concentrated heat emanating from his eyes.

  "You're beautiful, Lexie," he said in a husky, aroused voice as he slipped off her other sandal.

  The way he was looking at her, with those sexy eyes all hot and focused, made her feel positively woozy. Before she could return the compliment, which she surely would have if she'd been able to find her voice, he ran his hands up her legs, pushing up her full skirt until it bunched around her waist. Leaning forward, he pressed his open mouth against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. The sight of his dark head between her legs, the brush of his tongue dampening her flesh, brought a deep groan to her throat.

  "You smell so good," he whispered, his warm breath caressing her. "Like flowers. And sunshine."

  He moved closer, the breadth of his shoulders spreading her legs wider. Reaching under her skirt, he eased her lace panties down her legs. Heart pounding with anticipation, she reclined back on her elbows, watching as he kissed his way slowly up her thighs, sliding his hands under her to pull her closer.

  At the first touch of his mouth to her feminine flesh, her breath left her body in a rush of hot desire. Then she simply forgot how to breathe, as he lifted her against him and made love to her with his mouth, his lips and tongue caressing and gliding, delving, circling, until she was mindless. His hands, his mouth, were relentless. Unstoppable. Everywhere. She collapsed back onto the mattress, fisting her hands on the bedspread in search of an anchor as an intense orgasm throbbed through her.

  While delightful aftershocks still pulsed, she felt him rise. Heard the sound of a drawer opening, then the shush of him removing his jeans. She pried open her eyes in time to see him rolling on a condom. Then he loomed over her, and their lips met in a voluptuous kiss. His heat, mingled with her musk, inundated her senses. With her skirt still nicked up about her waist, she spread her legs wide, lifting her hips to welcome him.

  He slid into her in one long stroke, filling her. She expected fast and furious, flash and heat, but instead he stilled. Breaking off their kiss, he propped his weight on his forearms and looked down at her.

  Compelling eyes, dark and intense, searched hers. She looked up at him, absorbing the sensation of him inside her. The brief thought that this interlude was supposed to be light and fun flickered through her mind. Surely it wasn't supposed to feel this … intense. Surely she wasn't supposed to feel this connection to him.

  "Lexie." That single, husky-voiced word sounded faintly like a question. As if he, too, felt and wondered at this … whatever it was passing between them.

  She wanted to reply, to say his name, but then he started to move, slowly rocking his hips, and she lost the ability to speak. Her eyes slid closed, and she gave herself over totally to her passion. Her hands glided down his smooth back, to his buttocks, urging him deeper, higher. Her tension escalated, then in a rush, her orgasm washed over her like a great wave. A long, deep moan vibrated in her throat and she clutched him tighter, wrapping her legs around his hips. She felt him thrust again, then he buried his face against her neck, his groan of release sounding in her ear.

  Still intimately joined, she laid beneath him, sated, languid, listening to his choppy breathing as she waited for her own breathing to regulate. His weight pressed her into the mattress, and she savored the press of his chest against hers, the tickle of his chest hair against her breasts.

  She felt him lift his head, and opened her eyes to find him looking down at her with an unreadable expression.

  There were about a dozen things she wanted to say, first and foremost, Thanks, I needed that, but lengthy speech was still beyond her. So she said the one word she could manage.

  "Wow."

  He studied her in silence for several seconds, then nodded. "Yeah." He touched the tip of his tongue to his lower lip. "You taste like flowers. Everywhere."

  Heat swept through her. "Well, you would know."

  "That's some spark that's between us."

  "Definitely shorted out all my circuits." She raised her hands above her head and stretched like a contented cat. Then she ran her index finger over his lovely bottom lip. "You know, in the body-score-keeping scheme of things, you know a lot more about me than I know about you. And now that I can breathe again, I think it's about time I evened up the score."

  "Consider me at your disposal."

  "So, uh, what's your recovery time looking like?"

  "Definitely gonna need a few minutes."

  "Would a massage help?"

  "Depends on what you plan to massage. What are you thinking?"

  "I'm thinking about you, me and a nice warm shower. What are you thinking?"

  A slow grin eased across his face. "That great minds think alike."

  * * *

  "Hey, there's no scar on your ass."

  Josh pushed his wet hair from his eyes, then looked over his shoulder. Lexie stood behind him, shower spray bouncing off her shoulders, bar of soap in hand.

  Her eyes were narrowed on his butt, and she looked disgruntled.

  "I beg your pardon?"

  "Your ass." She ran a soapy hand over his buttocks and he sucked in a breath. "No scar." She looked at him with a clearly suspicious expression. "I thought you were bitten by a snake."

  "I was. Right there." He touched his finger to a spot on his left buttock. "Didn't leave a scar. Snakebites usually don't." He turned around and took the soap from her.

  Her gaze skimmed over his torso, lingering on his groin, which tightened in response. Then she reached out and brushed her fingertips over his upper thigh. "How did this happen?"

  "All your fault, sweetheart. 'Fraid I took one look at you, and I've been hard ever since."

  "The scar. On your leg."

  "Oh. Got caught by a Brahman horn."

  Her eyes widened. "Brahman? As in bull?"

  "Don't know of any other kind."

  She ran her fingers down the length of the thin seven-inch scar. "Aren't those bulls wild and vicious? What were you doing so close to one?"

  "I was ridin' him in a rodeo. Or rather, I was trying to ride him. Without much success, unfortunately, as that scar can attest."

  She stared at him with an expression he couldn't recall any other woman ever looking at him with, especially when he mentioned riding in the rodeo. Instead of interest and admiration, Lexie looked downright horrified. "Rodeo? You ride in rodeos?"

  Hmm. Her reaction piqued his curiosity, but at the moment, other things were much more interesting.

  Such as that trio of golden freckles dusting the base of her throat. Brushing a single fingertip over the marks he said, "You say 'rodeo' like I kicked small dogs and stole social security checks from elderly ladies. Most cowboys try their hand at the rodeo at least once."

  "Isn't it very dangerous?"

  "It is. But I don't do it anymore." That was certainly true. He was officially retired. "Now, I can think of at least ten other things I'd rather be doing than talking. Like playing a game of Shampoo, for instance."

  "Sounds interesting. How do you play?"

  "I get you all in a lather. Then rinse and repeat." To demonstrate, he leaned forward and kissed her.

  When he lifted his head, she murmured, "Hmm. Nice kiss. I give it a 9.4."

  "Nine point four? Hell." He st
epped forward, backing her against the wall. Shower spray rained down on them as he pressed against her, his erection sliding against her soapy belly. "Hang on, sweetheart. We're going for a ten."

  * * *

  Chapter 5

  « ^ »

  Lexie spent the entire next day trying to do two things: not watch the clock and not think about Josh.

  She failed miserably on both accounts.

  Not only did her eyeballs constantly stray to her watch, but each time her mind performed a quick calculation, then registered its report. Only twelve hours and fourteen minutes till you see him again… Only eleven hours and forty-two minutes… Only nine hours and eight minutes…

  If she had a nickel for every time she scanned the pool and beach areas for him, she'd be in Bill Gates's league. And it was totally ridiculous to even scan for him since he'd told her he planned to spend the day checking out sailboats. It was fortunate she knew the routine at the resort by rote, because her mind was simply not on her job. No, her mind was too busy reliving last night … and anticipating tonight.

  An image of her and Josh in the shower flashed in her mind and she had to take a deep breath. He might have been going for a "ten," but he had delivered a twelve. At least. More like a fifteen. Had any man ever looked so good all wet and soapy? Felt so good? Made her feel so good?

  Nope. On all counts. No doubt about it, Josh was an amazing and generous lover. She couldn't have picked a better guy to have a fling with.

  But somewhere between them making mind-blowing use of the second and third condoms, her pesky inner voice had started dropping unsettling, unwanted raindrops on her parade—raindrops that soon plopped on her head like water balloons. Yes, she'd felt sated and languid and feminine and incredibly satisfied. But there was something else sneaking in—a not-so-welcome feeling she recognized with a sense of dawning unease.

  Tenderness.

  Damn it, she didn't want warm, cozy, tender feelings raising their unwanted heads! And she certainly didn't want this transient vacationing cowboy to inspire them. There was absolutely no room for warm fuzzies in this equation. Good grief, what was wrong with her? A couple of orgasms and she was totally losing her grip.

  Knowing that the best thing she could do was to put some space between them, she'd left shortly after the fourth condom. Obviously she was incapable of thinking clearly when he was close. Especially when he was lying on top of her, naked and still buried deep in her body. He'd asked her to stay, and the fact that it would have been so easy to do so, convinced her it was imperative that she leave. But they had a swimming lesson scheduled for tonight. And as much as her mind cautioned her to remain aloof, she couldn't wait.

  Without a doubt, last night had been… Holy cow. She didn't know. Incredible. Exciting. But something else. Something more and unsettling that she couldn't put her finger on. Had he felt it, too?

  Don't be ridiculous. It was sex. Great sex. That's all. You're reading too much into it because it had been so long, you'd forgotten what it felt like. How good it could be.

  Yet even as that thought occurred to her, her little inner voice piped up, It's never been that good. That hot.

  With an effort she forced her attention back to the task at hand and stored away the flippers and masks from her snorkeling excursion, then made her way toward the Marine Patio for a quick lunch.

  After placing her order for a turkey club, another image of her and Josh together in the shower, her pressed up against the tiles, legs wrapped around his waist as he thrust deep inside her, flashed in her mind. She squeezed her eyes shut in a futile effort to dispel the image. If she didn't get ahold of herself and her runaway libido, she'd be tempted to track him down, looking for a nooner.

  Hey, now that's not a bad idea, her unruly hormones chimed in.

  She pressed her lips together in annoyance and told her hormones to sit down and shut up. Clearly she was suffering from a glandular imbalance brought on by too much sudden sex after such a long drought.

  She managed to nab a table under an umbrella—lord knew she was hot enough without the glaring sun beating down on her—and had just taken a bite of her sandwich when a familiar feminine voice sounded behind her.

  "There you are!" Darla slid into the bright aqua-and-yellow chair opposite her. She pulled off her designer shades, then gave Lexie's face a thorough, narrow-eyed exam. Lexie, wishing she'd kept her own shades firmly on her nose, tried her best to keep her features impassive, but clearly she failed for a knowing smile eased across Darla's face.

  "I knew it," Darla said, filching a pickle from Lexie's plate. "And if it weren't for the fact that I'm happy for you and that your brain is clearly bamboozled by outrageously fabulous sex, I'd be royally pissed that you didn't call me. For crying out loud, I've been dying all morning, waiting to hear from you." She bit the pickle spear in two and raised her brows. "So … don't keep me in suspense. Clearly you decided he wasn't a wacko or a creep. And based on that neon glow radiating off you, he's stupendous in bed."

  Heat rushed into her cheeks. "Yes. To all of the above."

  "How stupendous?"

  A sigh she couldn't contain eased past her lips. "Off the charts. He gave me goose bumps in places you can't even see with a mirror. And that's before he even took off his clothes."

  Darla's eyes goggled, and the other pickle half dropped from her fingers onto the table. "Tell me he has a brother. Please."

  "Sorry. Only child."

  "Damn." She heaved a mournful sigh, but then brightened. "Well, the rest of womanhood's loss is your gain. When are you seeing him again?"

  "Tonight. We have a swimming lesson."

  "And after the lesson?"

  A picture of Josh, naked and aroused, rose in her mind's eye. "We didn't specifically discuss it, but I wouldn't turn down the chance of a repeat of last night."

  "Was Mr. Cowboy as blown away by your night together as you were?"

  "I didn't hear any complaints. In fact, his enthusiasm was extremely flattering."

  Something in her tone must have sounded less nonchalant than she'd hoped for because Darla's eyes narrowed. "But something's bothering you."

  "Not really. It's just that…" She shrugged. "Naturally I was hoping he'd be nice. I just hadn't expected him to be so extremely nice."

  "Nice as in 'nice body, nice ass, nice technique' or nice as in 'nice guy, nice smile, nice personality'?"

  "Well, both. But option number two is the one that surprised me."

  Darla nodded sagely. "Ah. So you like him. And that worries you." Before Lexie could answer, Darla reached out and squeezed her hand. "Listen, Lex. It's perfectly natural that you'd like him. You should like him. You wouldn't have gone to bed with him if he wasn't a decent man. So don't sweat it and get all crazed over it. He's handsome and sexy and great in bed and nice. What's not to like? You're having a fling, nothing more. Remember the rules. Fun, wild and temporary. He's Mr. Transition, getting you back into the groove, building up your confidence, so that when Mr. Right comes along, your engine's all revved up and ready. Just keep things in perspective and enjoy yourself."

  Some of the tension eased from Lexie's shoulders. Darla was right. She just needed to keep things in perspective. She was simply out of practice when it came to stuff like this—although, she'd never been in practice with brief affairs. There'd only been two other men besides Tony—one in college and one during her first year teaching—and both of those relationships had lasted over a year.

  Yup, she just needed to get into the swing of things, and, as Darla said, enjoy herself. And as long as she kept any emotions from sneaking into the mix, all would be well. After all, how difficult could that be?

  * * *

  Josh stood in the pool, arms outstretched and resting along the bumpy cement edge, cool water lapping at his waist. He refused to check his watch again, logic telling him that no more than thirty seconds had elapsed since the last time he'd looked at it, and a good ten minutes remained before their lesson was
scheduled to start. And he also refused to look down at the front of his swimsuit, which, no matter how he tried to will it otherwise, remained tented.

  Damn, why wasn't the cool pool water taking the edge off his ardor? A humorless laugh whooshed past his lips. Hell, cool water didn't stand a chance. What he needed was ice water. And somehow, he suspected even that wouldn't help. No doubt about it, he was hot and bothered, and it was all her fault.

  He tipped his head back and squeezed his eyes shut. The same question that had plagued him all day echoed once again in his brain. What the hell had happened last night?

  Sex, you idiot. Great sex in fact. Best you've had in a while.

  A frown pulled on his brow. A while? How about ever.

  And just sex? Nope.

  He had enough experience to know that a hell of lot more than sex had happened between him and Lexie. And, as tempted as he might be to do so, there was no point in lying to himself about it. Years ago Dad had given him some advice he'd taken to heart. Son, the biggest liar you'll ever have to face is the one who watches you shave in the mirror every morning.

  Well, he might be able to squeak a falsehood past himself now and again, but this was not one of those times. The truth was like a horseshoe smacking him upside his head. What the hell had happened last night?

  He'd fallen in love.

  Yup, after a day spent pondering, there was no doubt. He'd fallen ass over spurs in love. He hadn't been looking, but love had bitten him right on the ass. Damn. Story of his life, gettin' bit on the ass when he wasn't lookin'. He'd been around the block too many times not to know that what he felt for Lexie was special. And different—stronger than anything he'd felt for any other woman. This was a need. A want that went beyond sex. She inspired an unfamiliar protectiveness and an overwhelming urge to know everything about her. What she'd been like growing up. Her favorite color. Favorite food. What made her laugh. During their conversation last night, he'd liked all the things he'd learned about her, and they'd just whetted his appetite for more.

 

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