Her shock became his. He froze.
Shit!
He’d swear this wasn’t her first time, but he’d bet it came pretty damn close. Her reaction spoke volumes. She’d tensed, that very last second. As if expecting something other than enjoyment. Like she’d been hurt in the past. Like he was hurting her now, making her relive that moment.
The thought slumped like wet cement in his chest.
He tried to withdraw, tried not to hurt her further. Her lips clamped, her hands scrambling to his butt, pulling, her hips bucking to maintain the contact. ‘Don’t stop.’
‘I’m hurting you.’
‘You’re not.’
The lines cutting her brow told another story.
Pain. Surprise. Shock. She’d displayed it all. And he wanted to know why. Palms pressed against the wall either side of her, he pushed back, painfully aware he was still inside her—and that this wasn’t how he’d envisaged this moment.
‘What happened?’
She locked her gaze to somewhere beyond his left ear. ‘We were having sex.’
‘Not that. You know what I mean.’
‘You want to have a D and M now, while we’re like this?’
He raised a brow. Waited.
She scrunched her eyelids and inhaled. When she opened her eyes again, a mask drove the uncertainty from her expression. The cop was back. ‘Don’t make me hurt you, Seth Friedin.’ The words rasped, the fingers on his buttocks digging into his flesh. ‘You’re not stopping now.’
Discomfort. Forced bravado. Humour. It was all there. She tried so hard to be tough, to be strong and stand alone. If only she’d let go, for just a moment, let him in . . .
Even now, so close, her mask forged a distance between them. Always a distance.
He was going to breach that void if it killed him.
His right hand cupped her cheek, then slipped beneath her hair to caress her neck. ‘I don’t want to stop any more than you do. But I won’t hurt you either.’ His thumb brushed her cheek. ‘Do you trust me?’
Her eyes widened, their gaze piercing his soul. Her breath caught mid-inhalation. ‘Yes.’
One whispered word, a hundred-pound weight on his chest.
He should have said something then. Anything. But his throat was so thick, he couldn’t for the life of him find his voice.
The hold on his buttocks wavered then loosened. He eased out.
Shit! No condom. What was he thinking?
Precisely the problem. He wasn’t. Didn’t seem capable of that one process where Jayda was concerned. He tugged his jeans back up over his hips, and stared into her wide, unfathomable eyes for seconds that felt longer.
She blinked. Averted her gaze.
A lock of red covered one eye and he swept it back. ‘It’ll be amazing between us. You’ll see.’ Dropping a kiss to her forehead, his lips lingered, his senses drenched in windswept orchards and her, then he whispered. ‘Come with me.’
She nodded, allowing him to slide her down from the table, wrap her fingers in his and lead her to the bedroom. Then, with a quick squeeze of her hand and a whispered ‘back in a sec’, he headed for her en suite.
The bathroom door clicked to. Even before it closed, he slumped against it, mentally kicking his butt from here to the deepest, darkest jungles of Africa.
What the hell is wrong with you? Ramming into her like a frigging bull on heat. Forgetting to use protection.
Losing every modicum of sense he might have owned. For what? All he’d managed to do was scare the shit out of her, and remind her of some past hurt she’d rather forget.
He slammed his head back, achieving a well-deserved pound against his skull. He’d known Jayda didn’t do casual. Didn’t sleep with just anyone. Until that night at The Traveller.
His heart thudded.
He still didn’t have a clue what had driven her to act so out of character. He hoped it was him. That he was the difference. The thought froze, like stalactites jutting from the walls of his chest, and the next thought only added to the frost. Because she was the difference for him.
Realisation hit. Hard. Jayda was more than just a one-night fling, or—shoot him for even thinking it—more than a story.
He couldn’t put a name to what he felt right now, it was just more.
He sluiced water over his hands and face, didn’t stop to think what he was about to do. About the responsibility.
Jayda didn’t trust anyone. Yet tonight she was willing to trust him. Despite all she’d been through, all they’d been through. No time now to consider the implications or how that made him feel. Or the importance he could place on this moment if he allowed his thoughts freedom to take root and grow.
It was just enough to know that she was giving him a second chance.
38
Jayda checked the blinds. The wooden slats rattled beneath her fingers as she tried to still them.
Impossible.
Her robe chafed her bare, still buzzing skin and she shivered despite its warmth. Her heart wouldn’t stop ramming against her ribcage.
Was it possible to bungle sex? Heat scampered through her body and she scrunched her eyelids closed. The answer had to be yes. Otherwise she’d just managed the impossible.
Idiot!
She was acting like a twenty-year-old virgin. Like she didn’t know a thing about sex. She did. She’d had sex before. Mediocre, missionary and three times.
And not one of those experiences had prepared her for Seth.
Her body still hummed, yearned. Wanted him. All the more for his tenderness, after she’d acted like some wide-eyed teenage innocent.
Her scorched skin burned anew. How could she face him now? What did he think of her? Would it bother him, now he knew just how inexperienced she was?
Should she care if it did?
A somersault of craziness crammed her brain.
Sex with Seth.
Every list she’d devised against this moment evaporated. Their connection, their attraction. It was electrifying. Heart-racing. Terrifying as all hell.
Did he still want her?
Her grip on the blinds tightened. Memories of Liam would not taint this moment. If Seth was willing to see this through, she would not freeze a second time round.
Hard, masculine heat welded itself to her back and she couldn’t stem the impulse to sink into it.
Warm breath fanned her ear. ‘Miss me?’
Her laugh erupted without warning, relaxing her shoulders. ‘I’d hate to pander to your ego.’
‘God forbid you ever do that.’ His palm rode up along her arm before encouraging it away from the blinds. ‘The blinds are fine.’
She glanced at the spectrum analyser and, much as he couldn’t see her face, he guessed her thoughts. ‘We’ve already checked twice this evening. The room is clear.’
Her hand dropped to her side as his skimmed up to cup her breasts. His palms weighed against their underside, the thumb and forefinger of each hand reaching up to taunt the nipples beneath the fabric into submission.
Her gaze fell to the gap between photos on her dressing table before darting to her bookcase, and the now empty shelf where her books had screened the camera from view. How could she have forgotten?
In the heat of the moment. A storm of sensation.
Seth didn’t use a condom.
The thought slammed her chest, robbing the air from her lungs.
Hell! If she hadn’t frozen . . .
But she had, and now in the light of the aftermath, the real world had nudged back inside her thoughts to haunt her. ‘It needs to be dark.’
‘I want to see you.’ His fingers tugged ecstasy into the taut, sensitive buds, and she fought the well of sensation which would have her forget everything.
Not yet.
‘You’ll have to see me with the lights off.’ She wriggled out of his arms, and the loss of his warmth sent chills up and down her torso, regardless of the thick towelling that covered it.
A fl
ick of the switch transformed the room into a jumble of shadows, stretching and dancing within the gentle glow of the hallway light.
He caught her hand and tugged her to him. ‘Why the robe?’ His fingers made to untie the belt.
She stalled his hands, and for the first time since he returned, met his gaze. ‘I’m sorry, Seth.’
‘That was my line.’ His grin faltered. ‘Want to talk about it?’
‘No.’
He nodded. Let it go. But there was a light in his eyes that said he wouldn’t let it go forever.
He refocused his attention on her belt, tugging gently until it loosened and fell free. Her breath stalled. With feather-like touches he inched the lapels apart, his gaze rolling across her bare skin like a desert sandstorm. Only the muted darkness stopped her from crossing her arms over her breasts.
His hands slid over her shoulders, edging the material down her arms until it slithered to the ground. ‘I’m glad we’re starting over. This way I get to enjoy every inch of you.’
Hands on her hips, his jeans-clad body melded to hers, and he walked her backwards until her knees hit the mattress, tumbling her onto the bed.
She shimmied back against the pillows. His heavy heat gone, she shivered.
Missing him.
She wouldn’t give weight to that notion.
And she wouldn’t freeze now, when she wanted this. Needed this. Seth filling her body, her mind, her everywhere, until the outside world receded and there was no room for anything but him.
Pushing up onto her elbows, her eyes strained through dusky shadows to glimpse the body she’d waited forever to see again. A contrast of light and shade; hard, sculpted muscle encased in taut, supple skin. Her memory hadn’t lied.
The rasp of his fly charged the silence, followed by the swish of fabric as he eased the denim down his thighs. There was a slap as they fell to the carpet, then a softer whisper as his jocks followed suit.
His palms seared her thighs as he kneeled between her legs, hands skimming upwards, head dipped, mouth inches from where she throbbed uncontrollably. And much as she craved his touch, the darkness wasn’t enough to make her feel comfortable about him being there.
She grabbed his wrist. ‘Something up here needs your attention.’
She could sense his smile as his body slid up hers until their mouths were only inches apart.
‘And that is?’
‘This.’ She brushed her lips to his, her stomach quivering beneath the tormenting trail of his fingertips.
Almost enough to make her forget.
Seth revelled in Jayda’s unchecked reaction to the play of his hand across her skin. She still wanted him, regardless of his blunder earlier, and this time he’d make damn certain he didn’t mess up again.
Light from the hall allowed him access to her awkwardness. Something she needed to move past before they could move on and lose themselves in each other.
But first, he needed to check one last time. He turned her to face him, framing her face between his palms. ‘Do you trust me?’
Her body tensed, her gaze riveted to his. She held her breath, blinked once, twice, and nodded. The slightest of movements, slow, imperceptible, but it blasted his brain.
He swallowed, somehow locating his voice. ‘I want you to enjoy every second of this, so you need to relax. Can you do that?’
She nodded again, her hands curled in front of her chest as if she were suddenly shy of using them.
‘For you to relax, you need to understand what’s about to happen.’ He rubbed his thumb across her bottom lip, felt it soften and swell beneath his touch.
‘First, I’m going to kiss you thoroughly, starting here.’ His fingers trailed over her lips, over her chin, downward.
She held her breath, her wide-eyed gaze never once leaving his.
‘Then I’ll kiss my way to your neck, your shoulder, your breasts, sucking each of your nipples in turn.’
With every word, his hand mimicked where eventually his mouth would follow and her body shuddered in reaction. His fingertip circled a nipple and it puckered, tightened, raspberry-ready and, oh, so deliciously ripe.
He crossed to the other. ‘Next I’ll kiss every inch of your ribs, your belly, and keep going until I reach here.’ He cupped her sex and her muscles tightened.
Anticipation. He felt it too. Wanted her so damn much his voice had lodged halfway down his throat. ‘When I’m between your legs, my tongue will taste you and taunt you and make you crazy until you come against it.’
His finger pressed against her clit. Her eyes closed and her mouth plumped open, emitting a soft, silent sigh.
The invitation was unequivocal, so he gave in on a growl and dropped his lips to hers.
39
Jayda trembled.
Seth’s mouth sashayed down her body, every suck and sweep driving her further into mindlessness. The thought of where he was headed . . .
But he’d asked her to trust him. Strangely, it wasn’t a stretch. In all the crazy, mixed-up lunacy that was her life, he was the one constancy she could depend on. Even in those moments when she’d treated him like crap.
So, she focused on the whisper of his lips and tried not to think about how she’d feel when he reached his destination.
His palms revered and caressed, as if she were special, treasured, as if he couldn’t imagine anything more exquisite. Warm lips followed his hands and her stomach quivered, starting a slow, resonant throb deep between her thighs. Anticipation. Impatience. Need. Every bone in her body as liquid as the blood that raced through it.
He edged downwards, his lips skimming lower—through the triangle of hair she’d considered trading for a Brazilian—and he didn’t stop. The abrasive sweep of his palms slid upwards to ease her legs apart. Her heart thundered, breath caught in her throat.
First instincts screamed for her to freeze, to clamp her legs and pull away. She tensed.
Feather-like touches rolled over her breasts, his thumb and forefinger plucking her nipples, tweaking, twirling . . . and she forgot. Lost sense of everything but Seth.
Fire swirled low in her tummy as sensation exploded between her legs. Then he licked.
Oh. My. Lord.
Every muscle inside clenched. Nothing had ever felt so good. So decadent. Like double-whipped triple-chocolate ice cream, steeped in steamy-hot chocolate fudge sauce.
His tongue swirled and a deep, guttural moan filled the air. Hers. He laved and swirled and laved and tugged, and she lost the part of her mind centred on coherent thought. Sheets fisted in her palms, her head twisting and turning, each new sensation hitting with the force of a tidal wave. Tension rose and whirled, a feeling of tottering on the edge of an abyss, wanting to plunge in, yet wanting to draw out every second.
And she would have done just that, if his fingers hadn’t left her breast to delve between her legs and deep into her flesh. She gasped, drowning, reeling in wave after rapturous wave.
In a haze, she felt his withdrawal, heard his fumbled search on her bedside table. The tissue box thumped onto the floor. Foil rustled distantly. Only vaguely did she thank him for remembering this time.
Her body cried out. Empty. Impatient. She reached for his shoulders, enjoying the slide of his skin and the gentle nudge of him just where she needed him.
His lips found hers, tasting of musk, soft, sensual caring, and Seth. As his tongue swirled inside her mouth, she felt the pull of flesh between her thighs. He edged inside, then stopped. There was that brief sensation he was too big, she too small. She gripped his shoulders, her flesh pulsing, stretching, moulding.
God, it felt . . . words didn’t describe how frigging amazing it felt. Better than anything she’d experienced. Ever.
His mouth left hers in a rush of breathlessness to find that spot between neck and shoulder only he knew how to find. The brush of his lips was slow, luxurious. Exquisite.
The muscles hovering above her tummy tightened as his hand crept down to touch her—
<
br /> There.
White light burst across her vision and the easing spasms intensified. Her sex tightened, clutching, pulling him inward, greedy for more.
She wanted more.
Lifting her hips, she pushed, a delicious slide of flesh against flesh. Solid muscle rippled beneath her palms as her hands skimmed from his shoulders out over his back. Their heated breaths mingled, her heart pumping so hard it should have leaped clear from her chest.
No thoughts now but one. Don’t stop!
She closed her eyes. Losing herself, in the moment, in Seth. The feeling new and unusual, but strangely comfortable. And right. Sure fingers strummed between her legs, growing the sensation, zinging nerve endings throughout her body until every part of her hummed with mindless pleasure.
Her eyes fluttered open.
He lifted his head, his hazed outline suspended above her, the deep lines on his face tight with restraint.
‘Okay?’
Her heart faltered and she choked her reply. ‘More than.’
‘Good.’ The whisper was lost as he kissed her mouth, moving his hips, gently drawing out and in, building the pressure with slow, soft attention.
Her hands circled his back and dropped downwards, clutching his buttocks, matching the clench and release of muscles as he filled her and then pulled back. Sensation swirled, her body light, detached, until she toppled over the edge, erupting in surge after surge of mind-melting rapture.
He stilled, as if sensing her need. As if her pleasure was steadfastly linked to his.
The rampant drum of her heart slowed.
Their gazes locked, gun-metal grey banishing the world outside. Everything but the man joined so wondrously to her. He ducked, brushed her lips and thrust, once, again, his magnificent body shuddering into her with abandon that stole her breath.
He collapsed, his weight on hers so natural, so right.
She sank back into the mattress as languor eddied into conscious thought. The race of her body slowed. The room returned. Dusky shadows on the ceiling above, the soft brush of the sheets below.
Wow.
Lethal in Love Page 28