And then she moaned.
Oh God, she moaned like a woman who wanted more, and his blood ignited. He threw off his chains. Pushing his fingers into her hair, he captured her head, controlling it, controlling the kiss. Spreading her legs with his knee, he slotted his hips between them, letting her feel his hard-on, stiff as a spike. She rubbed herself on it, and he took control of that too, dropping a hand to her thigh, curling her leg around his waist.
A faint voice in his head said, Slow down! This is Jan! But that was exactly why he couldn’t. At last, he had Jan underneath him.
The animal was uncaged.
Balling her shirt in his fist, he caught hold with his teeth, used them to shred it from neck to hem. Pushing it aside, he palmed her breast, the sweet handful he’d always known it would be. He couldn’t live another minute without tasting it, sucking her nipple into his mouth.
Her body jerked when he scraped the hard peak with his teeth, and he pulled back. If I hurt her . . . But she fisted his hair and yanked him down again, lifting her chest, feeding her breast to him. Feeding the animal.
And still he wanted more. Shoving his hand down her boxers, he dragged his fingers through slick heat, her back arching as she groaned low in her throat. Again he stroked her, and she swiveled her hips, reaching for more.
God, she was into it. He could make her come so easily, all over his hand, his face. And he would, he would, later. After he fucked her. After he took the edge off his hunger. Then he’d handle her until she didn’t know her own name.
Shoving her boxers down, he kicked them away. Kicked off his own shorts and hooked an arm under her knee. Her scent filled his nose, fogging his mind as he opened her wide.
With one thrust he filled her, as deep as he could go. And she cried out, freezing his muscles, his blood.
Oh God, if I hurt her. . .
Then her nails raked his shoulders. “Don’t stop.” It came out on a pant.
Relief flooded his chest. He pulled back, and plunged.
MICK, OH GOD, it was Mick inside her. Jan’s head swam. Her heart sang.
He hovered above her, arms holding his weight, muscles corded and straining. Sweat dripped from his cheek, dotting her breast. His dark eyes never left her face as he pumped her.
It was better than she’d dreamed, better than anything. Raw power surged up her arms as she grasped his hips, pulling him deeper on each thrust. Taking all of him, his laughter and his worries along with his cock.
He dropped down and lapped her lips with his tongue. She opened to him and then he was inside her mouth too, kissing her roughly, invading her fully.
“More,” he moaned, lips dragging over her cheek, and she gave him more, lifting her hips, meeting thrust with thrust. And still he wanted “More,” scraping his teeth down her throat, burning her skin with his beard.
“Take it,” she offered from the bottom of her soul. “Take me.”
He took her, wilder, rougher, until the bed slammed the wall, until her heart exploded. What more could she give him? He had all of her. He always had.
Then he reached down between them and threw a switch she hadn’t even known was there. Her head flew back, her thighs clamped his waist, and—holy shit!—her mind broke like an egg.
With a jerk of his hips, he pulled out and came everywhere but inside her.
“Jesus,” he gasped. His arms buckled and he rolled off her onto his side, lungs sawing like he’d just run the race of his life.
She was gasping too, gulping down tears before they could boil over. Her heart swelled with joy. Her skin tingled everywhere.
Her whole body floated on a sea of endorphins.
Mick curved his palm around her cheek, a tender touch. Traced her jaw with his fingertips, a fiery trail. “You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, and she didn’t have it in her to argue. She felt beautiful. She felt loved.
He laid his palm on her chest. Her heart beat against it.
“I’m sorry,” he began. Then, “No, that’s a lie. The only thing I’m sorry about is that I didn’t use protection. I swear to you it’s the first time in my life. I just . . . lost my mind. It won’t happen again.”
She laid her hand over his. “What won’t happen again? The no-protection or the sex? Because I’m okay with using condoms, but I’d kinda like to have sex again.”
“You would?” He sounded surprised. “I wasn’t too . . . ?”
“Amazing?”
“I was gonna say rough. Quick. Selfish.”
She pretended to think about it. “No, I’ll stick with amazing.”
“You’re too easy on me,” he said. She heard the smile in his voice. “I’ll make it better for you next time.”
“If it gets any better, I’m done for.”
He laughed. “We’ll see what you say when I’m finished with you.”
Finished with me.
The words hit Jan like a slap, an unwitting reminder of where this escapade was headed. After years of waiting in the wings, it was finally her turn for a hot weekend with Mick McKenna. And when he was “finished with her,” he’d walk away, just as he’d walked away from prettier, sexier girls without looking back.
So, yeah, more irony. New Jan was getting exactly what she’d wished for—a crash course in sex education from a master, with no strings attached.
But instead of being thrilled, she was crushed. Her heart sank to the bottom of her chest, the ache spreading through her body like a fast-moving virus, the anguish of impending loss so deep it could swallow her.
Sitting up, she said, “You know, a quick shower couldn’t hurt.”
“Sounds good.” He pushed up on his hands. “I made the mess, I’ll wash you off.”
That was code for shower sex. Tempting, but not what she needed.
What she needed was a minute away from Mick to collect her thoughts and figure out how to extract herself from the situation before she got in any deeper.
She mustered a chuckle. “Two Chihuahuas might fit in that nanoshower. Not two adults.”
He chuckled too, very low, very sexy. “We’ll make it work. Trust me.” His warm hand stroked a trail of fire down her back. Goose bumps shivered up her arms. Her nipples pulled tight, while everything inside her went warm and wet.
Clearly, her mind might wish for some distance from Mick.
But her body wanted to wrap around him like duct tape.
MICK HAD ALWAYS known Jan was passionate. Passionate about animal rights, gay rights, women’s rights, children’s rights.
Now he knew she was just plain passionate, totally into it, her back to the tile, his cock pounding into her, and ecstasy all over her face.
His fingers dug into her thighs, marking her. She’d be black and blue, and he was good with that. Any man who saw his fingerprints would know how they got there and he’d back the fuck off, or Mick would back him off.
Her nails scraped his neck, scoring his shoulders. She was marking him too, and that was fine with him. He’d bleed for her, gladly. He bit her lip hard enough to make her gasp, dragged his mouth to her throat and sucked a big hickey under her ear. She was his and everyone would know it.
“Mick.” Her breath heaved. “Mick, I need . . .”
She needed to come all over him, that’s what she needed. He pinned her with his shoulder, freed up a hand and shoved it down between them into the slippery mess they had going.
She gasped when he touched her. Her skull cracked the wall. He felt the pain like it was his own. “Easy, baby. Just come for me.”
“I . . . Yes. Yes.” Panting. Gouging his back. Then shuddering, shuddering.
Christ, he’d never seen anything as sexy as Jan coming. It blew his mind. His body went rigid. His cock went off like a rocket, exploding inside her as she contracted around him, drawing everything out of him, including the last ounce of his strength.
His knees folded and he did a controlled slide to the floor. Jan’s head flopped forward onto his shoulder. She was limp as a noodle.
Totally out of it.
He shifted around in the impossibly small space, so the warm water hammered his back instead of Jan’s. Resting his cheek against her hair, he let his heart pound itself out until his pulse approached normal.
His hand stroked her skin, slick and warm and softer than anything. Happiness pulsed with his heartbeat, spreading out through his veins into every cell.
Jan shifted slightly, and he remembered the condom he’d put on. No way could he pull out of her in this position. He could hardly believe he’d managed to get inside her in this shoe box, but where there was a will . . . And Jan was definitely willing.
She let out a weak groan, wiping the smug smile off his face. Guilt swamped him. Christ, what was he thinking, treating her this way? For fuck’s sake, he’d ravaged her, an ancient word but terrifyingly accurate, because he was a fucking barbarian.
Forget the fingerprints on her thighs; she’d be bruised head to toe.
“Shit,” he squeezed out through his tightening throat. “I’m so sorry—”
Her knuckle dug into his ribs. “Quit apologizing, dummy.”
Even her voice was weak. His stomach turned over. He had to get her to the bed. She needed water, maybe a doctor—
“That was awesome,” she said. He felt her lips curve against his skin, then her tongue lapped along his collarbone. “Mmm, yummy. I want to lick you. Everywhere.”
Christ, he wanted her mouth on him more than he wanted his next breath. But, “One thing at a time,” he said, locking down his dick. “Did I hurt you?”
She pulled back until he could see her eyes, hooded and sultry. “Do I look like I’m in pain?”
She looked like she was freshly fucked. And nowhere near ready to call it a night.
She wriggled, putting the condom in peril. He shifted to damage control. “Hang on, babe, let’s get rid of this one before we think about the next one.”
But when he tried to uncouple, he got nowhere fast. His back was against one wall, his shoulders sandwiched between two others. He couldn’t spread his elbows. He tried to straighten his legs, but that was out too. The damn stall couldn’t be more than three-by-three.
Watching his contortions, Jan started to giggle.
“You won’t be laughing,” he said, “when they need the Jaws of Life to get us out of here.”
“Maybe we should soap up.” She bobbed her brows.
“Babe, if we soap up, we’re not going anywhere.”
“So either way, we’re stuck.” She leaned back, smiling. Her lips were swollen from his kisses. Only the hottest thing he’d ever seen.
She raised her arms, pulling her hair back in a ponytail. Water sluiced down her body, so lovely it stilled him.
“Beautiful,” he said softly. His eyes followed the flow, down her long, slender neck, over her breasts. The tips were swollen too, pebbled and pink from his lips.
She reached out, took his cheeks in her palms. “You’re looking at me like you’ve never seen me before.”
“I haven’t, not like this.” She was delicate and lush at once. Innocent and sensual. Sweet and so fucking sexy. Everything he’d always loved about her, and so much more.
He wanted to come clean, to tell her he’d loved her forever. That he always would.
But the timing was wrong, while he was eyeing her naked body like he could eat it for breakfast. She’d think putting out had changed his feelings about her. Or worse, that he was bullshitting her because he wanted to stick his dick in her again.
It would kill him if she thought either of those things.
So he’d bide his time, and when the moment presented itself, he’d show her how he felt, and he’d do it right. Because for the first time, he was picturing a future with Jan.
After all, there was no question they were compatible. And amazingly, she seemed to be okay with his kind of sex. Meaning lots of it. Hard, and rough around the edges. He’d tossed her around, nailed her to the wall, given her a taste of how he liked it. And damned if she wasn’t ready to go again, right now, judging by the look in her eye.
Which meant getting out of this mousetrap, grabbing a handful of rubbers, and hitting the sheets until the sun came up.
The problem was, looking at her had gotten him good and hard again. He’d have to deflate before they could unpretzel themselves.
Reaching up over his head, he twisted the knob to cold.
“Aghh!” Jan flapped her hands frantically, like she could wave the water away. Her feet scrabbled against the floor, the walls, finally getting traction against his stomach.
Slapping the door open, she crawled out of the shower. Then she slapped it closed again and sat back against it, trapping him inside. “You’re a jerk.” Her pissed-for-life voice.
He shut off the water. Mission accomplished; he’d shriveled like a balloon and captured the condom as she made her getaway. “That’s what I get for taking one for the team,” he muttered.
“No more shower sex,” she decreed, which was okay for now, since she hadn’t ruled out any other kind of sex.
“Until we get home,” he added.
She snorted. “I won’t hold my breath.”
What does that mean?
Before he could ask, she stood and wrapped herself in a towel. “Tell me you brought snacks,” she said, heading into the bedroom.
He trailed her, tracking water to his suitcase. “Cheez-Its.” He tossed two snack bags on the bed, followed by a fistful of condoms.
She grabbed the Cheez-Its, smirked at the condoms. “You came prepared.”
“Better to have ’em and not need ’em than need ’em and not have ’em.” He reached out and snagged her towel.
“Hey,” she got out around a mouthful of Cheez-Its.
He wrapped the towel around his hips. “You look better naked than I do.”
“Cut it out.” Color climbed her neck, so bright he could watch its march by the light spilling from the bathroom.
“Get used to it.” He hooked her waist with one hand and pulled her tight against him, damp skin to damp skin, making all kinds of heat. “Your body’s gorgeous. I could eat you alive.”
Her breath hitched, but she said, “Yeah, right. I know what you’re after.” She held her Cheez-Its behind her back.
“What I’m after,” he said, cupping her cheek with his free hand, “is a lot more of what I just got.” He laid his lips over hers, holding her gaze. Stroked his fingers down her slender neck, over her shoulder, down the back of her slim arm.
Then he grabbed her bag and tipped it over his mouth.
Nothing but Cheez-It dust.
She stuck out her tongue, coated with orange.
God, he loved this woman.
THE RUMORS WERE true: Mick was a sex machine.
Resting her cheek in the notch of his sweaty shoulder, Jan laid her palm over his galloping heart. “Time out,” she said on a pant.
“Rookie.”
“Not a rookie,” she said, justifiably defensive. “I’ve just been benched for a few . . . okay, a lot of years.”
Mick curled his arm more tightly around her shoulders. “You’re back in the game now, babe. How’s it feel?”
Great. Amazing. Fantastic. For the rest of her life, nothing would compare to sex with Mick.
“It’s okay,” she said. “I’m sure you’re doing the best you can.”
He laughed, not fooled for a minute.
Then he yawned, a jaw cracker. They’d been going at it for two hours and it was his first sign of fatigue. Which was particularly impressive given that he’d hardly slept in the past month.
Honestly, the poor guy was exhausted. How had she missed the smudges under his eyes?
She moved her palm in slow circles, a front rub instead of a back rub. On cue, his lids grew heavy, his blinks got longer, and longer . . .
Then he pulled out of it, shaking his head as if clearing cobwebs. He glanced at the clock.
She kept on rubbing, gently. “You should talk to the
chief.”
He shook his head, not bothering to play dumb. “If I tell him, he’ll sideline me. Make me see a shrink.”
“Isn’t that mandatory? It should be.”
He shrugged. “I got through the required interview.”
“In other words, you faked it.”
“I need to get back on the horse, not sit around making myself crazier.”
There was some sense in that, especially knowing Mick as she did. But, “Is it safe? For everyone else, I mean.”
He forked a hand through his hair. “I’ll let you know on Tuesday.” He paused. “I won’t put the crew at risk. If my nerve’s shot, I’ll . . .” He sighed miserably. “I can always go to law school.” He rubbed her arm. “You’d be happier that way anyhow.”
“Why would I be happier?”
“You know. The whole dangerous job thing.”
To the extent New Jan was still hung up on that, it applied to potential husbands, not to friends, even friends with benefits. “Mick, I want you to do what you love, and you love firefighting.”
“So it wouldn’t matter to you? I mean, assuming I can get past this stupid nightmare and I’m not a wuss who can’t hold up my end, you’d be okay with me staying on the job?”
As if he needed her approval. “First of all, you’re not a wuss, except about spiders.” She spider-walked two fingers around his side. He flinched like a girl.
“And second of all”—she smoothed her palm over the spider tracks—“you will get past this nightmare, you will hold up your end, and—for better or worse—you will go on and risk your life every day. If you’re looking for my blessing, you’ve got it. You always have.”
He pulled in a deep breath, let it out on a long sigh. “I love you, Jan.”
Her heart leaped and swelled, filling every inch of space in her chest.
Then she talked herself down. Of course Mick loved her. He always had. God knew how many beat-downs he’d handed out on her behalf, warning off the bullies who were drawn like flies to a pale, skinny girl with no father to watch her back.
She owed Mick for that. For her peaceful childhood, for years of friendship, for always having her back. So if in the dark of this night the tables had suddenly turned and he needed her more than she needed him, she wouldn’t hold back the words of comfort that assured him he wasn’t alone. He never had to know that they meant so much more to her than they did to him.
The Wedding Gift Page 6