by Evie Hunter
She crossed the distance that separated them and curved her body against his. Soft flesh against hard muscle. Her five-foot-six frame dwarfed by his six-foot-two. Jack always made her feel small, feminine. His. Abbie stood, clinging to him, relishing the feeling of his skin against hers.
'I love you, Abbie.'
His voice was hoarse, the lilt strong. His words were not practiced or rehearsed. A simple confession from man to woman.
She placed a kiss on his chest, relishing the feel of him, licking the salt from his skin. She nuzzled his skin again. Licking her way slowly down abs, cupping the muscular cheeks of his butt, tracing a path with her nail along his right hip, sliding her hand around to stroke his erect cock.
'You’re treading on dangerous ground, woman.' Jack’s voice was unsteady.
'Really?' Abbie scored her nail along the heavy sack of his balls.
'Oh, you’ll pay for that.' Jack turned swiftly, capturing her in his arms, nipping on her lower lip.
'So spank me.'
A hot predatory gleam came into Jack’s eyes. 'Oh, I have every intention of doing that, and more.' Lifting her up, he carried her to the bed and dropped her in the middle of a soft quilt. His mouth fastened on one nipple and he suckled hard. He palmed her other breast, pinching the tender peak until she gasped. 'Remind me. Have we ever discussed nipple clamps?'
Abbie froze. Her nipples were extremely sensitive. 'In your dreams, Hollywood.'
Jack’s low laugh sent a tremor against her naked flesh. With slow deliberation, he licked his way along her torso, paying particular attention to her belly button until she squirmed. His hot mouth continued its journey downward. She arched against him. 'Please … '
He pulled away. 'Don’t move.'
Abbie obeyed him instinctively, afraid that he would stop the stroking and touching. She felt his warm breath against her aching clit followed by a slow rasping lick. Abbie writhed as his tongue traced a circle around the little bundle of nerves. He gave a low rumble of pleasure as he tasted her and the sound vibrated against her clit sending a flash of pleasure spiraling through her. Abbie teetered on the edge of orgasm. Almost there.
Jack lapped mercilessly at her pussy before pushing his tongue inside her, then he sucked on her clit again, sending her over the edge. Bright lights exploded behind her eyelids and she jerked with the force of her climax, crying out his name before she was lost in a sea of pleasure. He continued his sensual assault, prolonging the ecstasy, until the trembling stopped.
One broad finger pumped into her wet sheath and she gasped. Abbie opened her eyes to find Jack staring at her, a hungry expression on his face. 'So tight,' he groaned. 'So wet for me.'
Jack withdrew his fingers, licking them slowly, his eyes closing in pleasure at the taste of her. His eyes locked on hers as he moved upwards. Insinuating his hips between her thighs, he teased her slick folds with the head of his cock. 'I want you, Abbie. I’ve missed you so much.'
Slowly he entered her, clenching his jaw, as his desire to go slowly fought with an overwhelming urge to plunge into her.
Abbie raked her fingernails along his back. She needed him too, so much there were no words. Arching her hips, she took him deeper.
'Jesus,' He gasped. 'Don’t. I’m having a hard enough time keeping it under control as it is.'
She squeezed her inner muscles, relishing him. She didn’t want Jack to wait. She wanted it hard and fast.
'Fuck me.' Her voice came out half plea, half demand.
His hard thrust answered her plea.
'Oh yes, like that. Just like that.'
Jack paused, panting. Beads of sweat lined his forehead. 'Who’s in charge here?'
Abbie arched her back, undulating against him. 'You are, always.'
She was rewarded with another hard thrust. Abbie wrapped her thighs around his hips, relishing the pounding strokes of his hard flesh against hers.
A whimper caught in her throat. The dizzying sensation of Jack pounding into her was taking her closer. His hand fisted in her hair, forcing her head back and his mouth descended on her hers, taking possession. The thrusting of his tongue mimicking that of his hips.
Abbie groaned. 'Yes. Oh, please.' She had missed him so much.
He speeded up, faster and faster, and her nerve endings went on overload. She wanted to scream from the feeling, but her breath strangled in her throat. She wasn’t sure she remembered how to breathe, but didn’t care. Jack was all that mattered.
With a final lunge, he roared out her name as he climaxed. She stiffened, her world splintering apart into vivid light and ecstasy that wrecked her ability to move. He pounded into her a few more times before collapsing, pulling her into the cradle of his body.
For a few minutes, the only sound was their ragged breathing and then Jack kissed her, so gently she trembled. 'I can never get enough of you. You know that, don’t you?'
With an effort, she lifted a shaking hand to his face. His beloved face. 'Is that really true?'
He turned his head to kiss her hand. 'How can I convince you how much I love you?' There was a touch of hopelessness in his voice, something she wasn’t used to hearing from him.
A stab of guilt shot through her. Jack had worked 24/7 for the last five weeks and he had come home to find that Paloma needed him. At his core, Jack was a decent man. Her man. Her Dom. He would always go out of his way to help a friend, but not explain or expect her to understand.
Love was the four letter word that people obsessed about, but trust was harder to find and earn.
While she kept people at a distance, she had never needed it. Tough independent Abbie Marshall. Racing from one war zone to another. Never laying her head on the same pillow twice.
The question was: did she trust Jack? And there was only one answer. She pressed her face against Jack’s naked skin and inhaled him. My man. My home.
She sighed. He had said it, so she believed it. 'I still don’t understand why. You’re surrounded by beautiful women all the time. Why me?'
He sat up and stared at her, dumbfounded. 'Are you kidding? I don’t know how I got so lucky. I play tough guys on screen, but you’re a real-life action hero. The studio has a ten million dollar insurance policy on me, and won’t let me do more than minor stunts on my own. You go into the depths of hell to chase a story, and you drag the bad guys, kicking and screaming, into the light of day. How many people have been jailed because of your stories?'
She shrugged. 'A few. I don’t keep count.'
Jack laughed. 'And you wonder why I’m determined to hang onto you?'
He jumped out of bed, branding her with a quick kiss on the way. 'Stay here. I have something for you.' He disappeared before she could protest.
She lay back in the bed, wondering what he had in mind. If it was that shoehorn again, he could forget it. A couple of moments later, the sound of bare feet on the stairs heralded his return. She drank in his naked magnificence and didn’t notice what he held in his hand.
'I’ve never done this before, so I’m not sure of the protocol.' He sounded uncertain.
Abbie sat up in bed, wondering what would make Jack nervous. 'Done what?'
'Asked a woman to marry me.'
She gasped, certain she had misheard. 'Marry?'
He dropped to one knee, and held out a box to her. 'Abbie Marshal, will you marry me?'
The box contained a ring, a huge square-cut emerald, flanked by two glittering diamonds. She picked it up, staring at it in wonder. 'The emerald is almost the colour of your eyes.'
She plucked it out of the box and slid it onto her finger. It fit perfectly. Jack was good with details. She looked at him. 'You look good kneeling there like that.'
With a growl, he rose from his knees, hauled her into his arms, and kissed her so thoroughly she couldn’t breathe. 'I’ll take that as a yes, Ms Marshall.'
'Yes, oh yes.'
She kissed him back, revelling in the passion that flowed between them. Then she remembered. 'I got you a rin
g too.'
He laughed. 'I saw it. What do you saw we wear both of them when we got home?'
It sounded good. 'Yes, Sir,' she said.
THE END
Want more from Abbie Marshall and Jack Winter?
Read on for a preview of THE PLEASURES OF WINTER, coming November 1st in e-book and paperback.
The Pleasures of Winter is a steamy erotic story of romantic obsession and explosive sexual chemistry for fans of Fifty Shades of Grey and Bared to You.
When reporter Abbie Marshall needs to escape Honduras, a private jet carrying a Hollywood A-lister is her only way out. She has a ride home with Irish actor Jack Winter - notorious womanizer and all round bad boy. Abbie is shaken to the core by Winter's blazing beauty and provocative mind.
After the plane's nose-dive into the remote rainforest forces them to fight for survival, Abbie catches tantalizing glimpses of the complicated man behind the image. And the more she sees of him, the more he touches some primal part of her that she is determined to suppress. But after a devastating encounter with Winter's shadow side, Abbie's detachment is shattered.
On returning to normal life, Abbie cannot forget what happened, nor ignore the shocking rumours about the star's private life. Her struggle to make sense of her torment leads straight back to Winter, who is just as obsessed by her. But if they are to have a relationship, Abbie knows she must embrace his hidden desires ... and accept her own.
No longer caring about anything but their intoxicating love affair, Abbie is drawn deeper into the dark heart of Winter - and the secret that threatens to destroy everything ...
PREVIEW THE PLEASURES OF WINTER:
I
Abbie Marshall tucked the handset of the payphone under her chin as she scanned the display in Toncontín Airport. Despite the air conditioning, her T- shirt was already damp from the Honduran heat. ‘ You have to get me out of here.’
Every flight to the States was full and now she had a bigger problem. Two of them, to be precise. They had been on her tail since she left the hotel and the dark eyed one with the scar on his cheek was horribly familiar.
She almost missed her editor’s reply. ‘I’m on it. Give me an hour and I’ ll—’
When Scarface rose to his feet, Abbie’s heart dropped like a stone and she swallowed hard. This was an international airport. They couldn’t just take her. Her gut told her something different. She had seen enough in the past two weeks to know that these men could do whatever they wanted, and no one would stop them. ‘Josh, I don’t think I have an hour.’
‘How close are they?’
Abbie gripped the handset tighter. ‘Would you be upset if I said thirty feet? I’m a sitting duck here. I can’t get a signal on my cell. I’ll find another payphone if I can’t stay on this one.’
A string of expletives followed. ‘I want you to stay on the line. Talk to me, Princess.’
Abbie ignored the princess jibe. ‘I’m fine, I just . . . I’m fine. Tell Sara that I’ve got the story and I’ll file as soon as I get home.’
She eased the battered rucksack off her shoulder. It had seen her through some scary assignments – north Africa, Burma, Haiti. This might be the last trip for both of them. She had been in tight spots before, but nothing like this.
The flight to New York was announced and Abbie watched the passengers leave for the departure gate. Scarface returned from the bar and raised his glass in her direction. She wasn’t any safer here than she had been at the hotel. In a couple of hours the last flight would be gone and the men would make their move.
‘Abbie, you still there? Abbie! ’ Her editor’s sharp tone jolted her back to reality. ‘Listen. Go to the charter desk in the main hall. There’s a private jet departing for Miami in thirty minutes. Jack Winter is on it. You can interview him on the way.’
‘What are you talking about – interview Jack Winter?’
She heard an exasperated sigh on the other end.
‘Do you want to get out of there or not? Standard Studios have been trying to put us together with Winter for months. He agreed to an interview, but we’ve never been able to get hold of him. It’s your lucky day because of all the godforsaken places he could have turned up in, he’s in Honduras. Or was. He’s leaving on that plane tonight. The publicist is making sure you can get on the flight but she can’t get through to Winter or his people. You’ll just have to sweet-talk him when you get there. Now, run! ’
Abbie closed her eyes. Apart from her work gear, her small rucksack contained nothing but a washbag and a change of underwear. There was no time to grab anything else when fleeing the hotel. Her T- shirt was stuck to her body. And Josh expected her to interview a Hollywood heartthrob, a guy more famous for his hell- raising and womanising than his acting?
When she opened her eyes again, Scarface was staring at her.
‘I’m on it.’ Abbie dropped the handset into the receiver and, picking up her rucksack, she ran.
The men were surprised by her sudden flight. She heard a chair scraping noisily against the tiles and a bottle crashing to the floor. Pushing her way through the waiting passengers, she fled across the lobby, ignoring the shouts of the men racing behind her. Abbie only slowed when she spotted the armed security personnel. Toncontín also served as a military airport and she didn’t want to be arrested or shot by mistake.
A quick glance over her shoulder told her that Scarface hadn’t been so lucky. The men had been stopped. Maybe she might get out of this after all. She hurried along the main hall. Most of the desks were closed and the man at the charter desk was pulling down the shutters.
‘My name is Abbie Marshall. You should have had a call about this. I’m getting a ride on the Standard Studios jet.’
He glanced at his watch and gave her an apologetic smile. ‘I’m sorry Ms Marshall, but you’re too late. The jet is ready for departure.’
Abbie looked over her shoulder. Scarface and his buddy had been released. ‘Please, I have to get out of here tonight.’
As the man sized her up Abbie gave him a look that she hoped conveyed the right mix of desperation and sympathy for his difficult job. Her life depended on changing his mind.
He made a snap decision. ‘ OK , but we’ll have to run.’ He ushered her behind the desk and through a small door at the back. She followed him along a maze of concrete corridors, through an emergency door and out into the night. The thick, humid air hit her face like a furnace.
‘Hurry.’ He grabbed her arm and dragged her along the tarmac until she thought her lungs would burst. Up ahead, she could see the sleek white outline of a waiting jet. Two figures in high-viz waistcoats were pulling the portable steps away.
‘No! Wait!’ Abbie said. Waving her arms and yelling, she raced for the plane. The ground crew finally heard her and paused, leaving the steps in place for another few precious seconds.
She launched herself up the steps and through the door at the top, landing on her hands and knees. She stayed there, panting, trying to catch her breath before she had to deal with her fellow passengers.
‘Are you OK ?’ asked a tall man, who helped her to her feet and gave her a reassuring smile.
Still trying to control her racing heartbeat and loud breathing, Abbie smiled back. ‘I am now.’ He was cute, with brown hair and blue eyes, and an Irish accent to die for.
An older man, already strapped into his seat, frowned at her. ‘Were we expecting you?’ he asked, glancing at his watch. His expensive suit didn’t quite conceal the beginnings of a potbelly or thinning hair, and his air of self- importance set her teeth on edge.
She stood up and dusted herself down. ‘I believe you were. I’m Abbie Marshall, New York Independent . I’m here to interview Jack Winter.’ She tried to make it sound as if that was the only reason she was on the plane.
‘No so fast, Ms Marshall. I’m Mr Winter’s agent. Everything should be cleared through me.’ He pulled out his smartphone.
‘This is Zeke Bryan,’ the younger man said.
‘Mr Bryan.’ She nodded politely, but made no effort to shake his hand. ‘New York Independent . I believe an interview was agreed with us some time ago. Part of Mr Winter’s contract with Standard Studios.’
The agent looked in two minds but before he could say anything else, the younger man flashed her a smile and said, ‘Oh, give it a rest, Zeke, it’s not as if we can’t use some female company on the flight.’
The agent sat back in his seat scowling, and then looked away. It seemed she was free to proceed.
The young man held out his hand. ‘I’m Kevin O’Malley.’ She shook his hand, enjoying his friendliness and easy manner. Abbie could understand all those stories about Irish charm.
He raised his voice slightly. ‘Hey, Jack, come and meet our lovely guest.’
There was no response. Oh, great. Jack Winter was one of those prima donna actors who ignored everyone else. Reluctantly, she followed Kevin the few steps to the back of the plane, to be introduced to the infamous star.
When Kevin stepped to one side and she finally saw Jack Winter up close, she felt as though she had been hit by an invisible fist. Abbie had to make a conscious effort to keep breathing. Why had no one ever said? Or had she just not being paying attention? She dragged in a breath and tried to examine him objectively, like the professional journalist she was.
It was easy to see why women flocked to see his movies. Jack Winter was all masculine hard lines. He didn’t carry an ounce of spare flesh but gave the impression of lethal power, barely under control. Razor sharp cheekbones and a strong jaw added to the tough guy image. And yet, fighting that dazzling He- Man perfection, there was an irresistible sensual allure in the curve of his mouth. It wasn’t right: no one should be that hot.
Somehow, it made it worse that Jack was staring out the window and ignoring everything in the cabin. Kevin touched his arm to get his attention.
Thick, dark brows framed the pair of startling blue eyes that turned in her direction. In the face of so much male beauty, Abbie was conscious of her own appearance. She was dirty, sweaty and in need of a shower.