by Lori Foster
RONNIE HAD ALWAYS considered herself pretty good at reading people. Until Jack. Half the time she had no idea what he was thinking.
This, fortunately, was not one of those times.
All through the quick dinner of sandwiches, dill pickles, and chips, he’d watched her like a starving man. For once, his polite manners abandoned him and he managed only stilted replies to everything she said.
At first, she’d worried what he would think, seeing her completely undone.
From all indications, he couldn’t think. He just kept devouring her with his gaze, sexual greed stark in his expression. It emboldened her...and heightened her own need. She didn’t have enough imagination to play coy, so instead she’d concentrated on eating.
When she’d finished off the very last bite, they loaded the dishes, then stepped out back together, her holding the kitten, to let Howler take care of business.
When Jack led the dog to an empty bedroom, Howler’s only concern was Peanut. Once Ronnie set down the kitten, both animals settled in to sleep on the big plush doggy bed.
After Jack set up the gate, they headed toward the bedroom. “They’re so cute together, don’t you think?” Ronnie asked.
Beside her in the dim hall, Jack’s stare burned over her. “I’m going to take a two-minute shower.”
Biting back a smile—because seriously, the way he wanted her was too fun—Ronnie nodded. “I’ll just brush my teeth.”
“Two minutes, Ronnie.”
The smile won out. “I heard you.” Feeling him watch her, she stepped ahead of him and made a beeline for the bathroom. They nearly collided, her at the sink, him stripping off his clothes as if being timed.
Oh wow. She watched him in the mirror while haphazardly putting toothpaste on her toothbrush.
Talk about new and different experiences.
She’d never brushed her teeth with a naked stud behind her. Never watched as a man adjusted the temperature of the shower and stepped into a tub.
The glass shower door only vaguely obscured all the awesomely carved definitions of his body. One thing she loved—no, scratch that—one thing she enjoyed about Jack’s body was that he wasn’t a bodybuilder type. No crazy bulk and grotesquely bulging parts. His lean muscles were about strength, not looks, naturally built by hard work and enhanced with awesome genetics.
He claimed he got that physique in part from his father. For that, alone, he should thank the man.
Everything about him was so perfectly symmetrical. Long limbs balanced with his height and the breadth of his shoulders. His feet, especially when compared to hers, were big, but not overly. Just enough to provide a good foundation for all the rest.
And his cock, currently jutting out...
Ronnie went still, her mouth full of foam and an idle toothbrush, as he lathered soap in his hand. He didn’t look at her, but she could see him roughly scrubbing everywhere, then rinsing, both hands in his hair.
Those arms, that torso, and his thick legs...not to mention the erection that stood front and center.
He shut off the water and she realized she had to spit and rinse.
She’d barely finished doing that when suddenly, buck naked and his skin still damp, he scooped her up and carried her to the bed. “I brushed my teeth in the shower,” he said.
“You didn’t finish drying.”
“I’m dry enough, and now we’re both done.”
They went down to the mattress together, his mouth already fused over hers, his hot hands sweeping over her body, feeling her through the cotton T-shirt, up to her waist, over her stomach, cupping first one breast and then the other.
It was such a firestorm of sensual onslaught that she couldn’t think. He kissed her long and deep, his tongue exploring while he parted her legs with one hairy thigh.
She felt drugged, unable to catch up, her nerve endings sizzling and a pulse beat of aching need uncoiling low in her belly.
“God, you’re beautiful, Ronnie,” he muttered as he trailed his mouth to her throat, drawing on her skin, probably marking her.
The idea was strangely exciting.
He hadn’t shaved since that morning and the rough beard shadow abraded her skin in a delicious way. As he opened his mouth over her throat and shoulder, he moved against her.
It was difficult to think, much less speak, but she asked, “You like me without makeup?”
Groaning, he said, “With makeup, without, I more than like you.”
Her heart punched into her throat. What did that mean? “Jack—”
He plumped up both breasts in his hands and then, without warning, his mouth was on her, sucking at first one nipple, then the other, and even through the material it was almost too much.
Oh, dear heaven. She felt the pull of his mouth straight down to her vagina, like a lightning bolt that continued to burn. Her fingers tightened in his hair, ensuring he wouldn’t stop. She was so tuned in to the pleasure that she didn’t realize he was lifting the shirt until cooler air touched her breasts, followed by the velvet stroke of his tongue. One hand slid into her panties, pushing them down.
Sensation hit her in so many places, everywhere vital, that she couldn’t ground herself, couldn’t focus on a single impression.
His fingers played over, teasing, touching in key places, but never long enough for her to find relief.
Frustration built in tandem with the heat until she thought she might combust—but she loved it. Every burning second of it.
Finally, after her nipples felt too sensitive and she knew his fingers were wet, he lowered to kiss her ribs.
Her eyes flickered open. She stared at the ceiling without seeing it, all her concentration on his hot mouth...traveling south. Everything they’d talked about, all the ways she’d teased him about new experiences, came flooding back.
Would he—?
He brushed a kiss over her hip bone, tickling a little, making her tense with expectation. While she struggled to ground herself, he slowly worked two fingers into her, testing, pressing, pushing. “So wet,” he whispered.
Once those fingers were in her as far as they could go, her body naturally clamped down. When he curled them just a little, touching a sweet spot deep inside her, she released a shuddering breath.
“You smell so good.” He trailed damp lips over her stomach, down to her inner thigh. After a soft love bite, he urged quietly, “Open up for me, Ronnie.”
For all her sexual encounters, this was very different, in part because it was Jack and, for the first time in her life, being with someone mattered. This wasn’t just for relief, just for company.
She wanted to be here with him so badly it actually scared her. She wanted Jack. She craved Jack.
The bombardment of emotion took her out of her realm, making her anxious but uncertain. She didn’t want to be anywhere else, hell no, but here, now, in this perfect moment with Jack, she lacked her usual confidence. It all felt new. Fresh. Special.
Hoping she didn’t sound ridiculous, Ronnie stroked his hair and admitted, “I’ve never...”
Jack went still, then looked up at her.
“I’ve never done this.”
Savage satisfaction smoldered in his gaze. He gave one small nod. “Good.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
IT RELIEVED RONNIE that Jack didn’t wait for her to move, but easily spread her legs himself, arranging her, lifting her right leg over his shoulder and pressing out her left until she bent it at the knee.
Sprawled was the only word for it as he looked at her, at her exposed sex, with hungry eyes. That, too, was new. Never had she allowed anyone to see her like this. She’d never even considered it. In fact, no one else had asked.
Men, she’d found, were readily agreeable to a quick screw without formalities.
Not Jack. She had the stunning sense that he
didn’t just want more, he wanted everything.
Bringing those same two wet fingers back to her, he opened her sex, leaned down, and licked.
Ronnie almost came off the bed. Never, not in a million years, had she expected it to feel like that. Holy Mother of God, that was...amazing.
“Easy,” Jack murmured, sounding all smug and male and incredibly turned on. He flattened his free hand on her stomach to steady her, to hold her still, before returning to lick again, over her, in her, again and again.
Hold still? Impossible. Even if she’d wanted to, her hips had a mind of their own.
When he concentrated on her clit in a way that made her cry out, she fisted her hand in his hair. Not that he was trying to get away, absolutely not, but she wanted to make sure she saw this to the end. She struggled for breath, and a rapidly building climax.
“Relax,” he growled. “It’ll happen.”
Right. He sounded sure, but she wasn’t. Having never had this before, she wanted it bad. All of it. Pleasure spiked through her, wringing out a harsh groan.
“Who knew?” Jack teased.
She managed to reply, “Ah, God, shut up,” in an embarrassingly broken voice.
“All right,” he agreed softly.
There was no more talking. She did her best to keep quiet, too, but that proved impossible, especially when his fingers sank into her again, pressing, twisting rhythmically. Her hips just naturally rode up against those thick fingers, against his clever tongue, against the very idea that this was Jack, going down on her, and nothing had ever felt so sublime.
Finally, Ronnie didn’t care how she sounded, how she looked, how incredibly desperate she acted. She cared about his tongue and that sweet suction and...
The orgasm crashed into her, forcing her head back, screwing her eyes shut and clenching her jaw as the nearly painful pleasure rode through her, sharp and real.
Jack stayed with her, prolonging it, pushing her, until her hands and legs—her entire frame—turned to jelly. Tingling jelly. Melted jelly.
She was gulping in air, totally flummoxed, as he continued to lick, tongue, and suck, though more leisurely now, as if savoring the moment.
As if he really, truly enjoyed it.
Unable to take any more, Ronnie groaned and made a half-hearted attempt to ease away.
After the soft press of a kiss, he rose over her. His beautifully lashed eyes stared down at her with some emotion she couldn’t name, but it unsettled her all the same. If she had any energy left at all, she’d have turned away.
“No,” he chided in a rough whisper. “There’s no going back. Don’t hide from me.”
Even through her lethargy, she found the need to protest. “I’m not.”
“Good.” Reaching to the nightstand, he snagged a condom packet, opened it with his teeth, and deftly rolled it on.
It fascinated her, seeing that thin sheath rolled over the solid length of his cock. He was so big, so thick and hard. She’d really wanted to explore him a little—but that could wait until later. Because this time, she’d have a later. It was a uniquely satisfying realization.
“I should give you a minute, but swear to God, Ronnie, I can’t.”
She smiled up at him with a deep sense of...contentment? Yes. That would describe the emotion filling her up. “It’s okay.”
“Is it?” The sensual mouth that had just shown her crazy new things curled in a smile. “I’m glad.” In the next second, he positioned himself and pressed forward, the head of his cock giving her the most intimate of kisses. On his forearms, which he’d bracketed at either side of her head, he covered her mouth with his, steadily thrusting and driving her right back to the peak before she could recover.
When he was as deep as he could get, he lifted his head. Nostrils flared, color high on his cheekbones, he studied her. “I want you closer.”
Gasping each breath, Ronnie shook her head. “Not possible.”
He held her gaze as he reached back and caught her left leg, hiking it above his hip until she held it there. Now that she knew what he wanted, she drew two deep breaths, and did the same with her other leg, locking her ankles at the small of his back.
He lowered down onto her, his chest pressing against her breasts, her belly to his abdomen. She found his weight deliciously...comforting. She’d rarely let a man over her and now she knew what she’d been missing.
But only with Jack.
The friction grew sharper as he gently, slowly, rocked against her.
Arms tight around his neck, Ronnie kissed his shoulder, now a little salty with sweat. She liked that, so she licked his slick skin, opened her mouth against him, and sucked. Even lightly bit.
This, too, was new—allowing herself to do as she pleased, feeling free to taste and touch. And the indescribable smell of him... She breathed him in, filling her head and her heart. Oh, how she’d love to wrap herself in that particular scent every single day.
They moved together, leisurely at first with a lot of kissing and touching. But each kiss grew deeper, their bodies grew warmer, and that insane tension escalated again.
Ronnie tried to hurry him along, but he controlled the pace and wouldn’t let her rush. Frustrated, she freed her mouth and moaned, arching up against him.
His next stroke was firmer, putting her flat to the mattress again, making her gasp with the thrill of sensation. He did it again, and again... So close.
When Jack burrowed his face into her neck, she realized he was struggling to hold off, to wait for her. And that did it.
Clenching everywhere—her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist, her sex on his cock—she came. Hard. Immediately, he reared up, watching her as he found his own release.
Yeah, she knew sex...but she didn’t know what the hell had just happened to her. She only knew she liked it.
Liked him.
Too damn much.
* * *
JACK WOKE TO a restless movement in his bed. Though he didn’t often have women stay over, his very first thought was: Ronnie. Tightening his arms, he held her closer.
He wouldn’t let her skip out on him again.
She went so still, she felt frozen. They were still naked, the room was dark, and he’d never been so satisfied. Not just sexually, but in every other way. He felt like he’d just solved a difficult puzzle. Conquered a nation. Scored first prize.
Ronnie Ashford... She was a puzzle for sure. And she had kept him racing to figure her out.
Smoothing her hair, he asked, “What is it?”
There was an odd note to her voice when she whispered, “I need to...to get up for a minute. Just go back to sleep.”
Not a chance. He noted that her breathing felt shallow, her skin clammy. Her entire body was tense.
Taking a guess, he asked, “Nightmare?”
She shook her head. “No.” After a prolonged hesitation, she whispered, “Memory.”
His first thought was thank God she’s with me. He gentled his hold, pressed a kiss to her temple. “The kidnapping?”
“It’s fine,” she insisted in a quiet, desperate rush. “Go back to sleep. Please.”
Jack knew he had to tread carefully. Ronnie’s faith in him, in them, was an elusive thing, hidden behind her bravado and pride. He valued that about her and didn’t want to do anything to make her feel more wounded.
Cupping a hand around the side of her neck, he asked, “Does getting up help?”
“I just need a minute.” Her voice trembled.
So did his heart. “All right.” Pushing back the covers, trying to be as matter-of-fact as possible, Jack stretched. “Should we do this naked or what?”
Ronnie didn’t move. He wasn’t even sure she breathed until she asked on a huff, “Do what?”
Well, at least he’d distracted her. He flipped on the lamp on the nightst
and. They both flinched away from the light until their eyes adjusted.
Still acting like it was no big deal, Jack said, “We can go out to the couch. Maybe turn on an old movie? I’ll doze with you.” Making the decision for her, he went to the dresser and dug out a pair of boxers. Not naked, but close.
Staring at him, Ronnie slowly sat up on the side of the bed. “Jack—”
“It’s only 1:00.” Barely stifling a yawn, he walked around the bed and found her T-shirt, then pulled it down over her head. “You know I can’t resist you fully clothed, so I hope you appreciate my restraint now, with you all bare-assed and everything.”
Scowling, she punched her arms through the sleeves. “I don’t need a babysitter.”
“God, I hope not, considering all the things I still want to do with you.” He clasped her hand and hauled her up from the mattress. “Cold?”
Suddenly she looked incredibly lost. So lost, his throat felt thick and it was all he could do to keep from lifting her in his arms and coddling her close, promising her insane things.
In a barely there whisper, she said, “You don’t have to do this.”
“Ronnie, love.” It was a struggle to make his tone light, to hide all the emotion bombarding him. “Here, with you, is exactly where I want to be. I wish you’d believe me.”
Her eyes rounded. He found it sexy as hell, seeing her without her makeup, utterly bare—for him.
They both heard the nails on floorboards right before Howler stuck his big head in the door, eyeing them both as if wondering why the hell they were up.
Jack laughed. “Look, more company.” Giving Ronnie a moment, he asked the dog, “Where’s Peanut?”
Howler’s ears perked up comically, then he wheeled around and lumbered away.
“Come on.” He grabbed a blanket off the bed and hauled her somewhat resistant body down the hall and into the living room. Settling into a corner of the couch, he pulled her down close beside him. “Better claim your seat before—”
“Umph.” Ronnie barely managed to keep her spot when Howler leaped up, gave her a frenzy of doggy kisses that she tried and failed to avoid, and then plopped down with a big sigh, taking up the majority of the couch.