Into the Fire. Leslie Kelly
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gift he would wonder what if for the rest of his life.
As if sensing his thoughts, she said, “I know. We’ll wonder later how this happened. Not now. Now I want your hands on me.”
Nate was happy to oblige. He ran the flat of his palm down her body from her throat, over the full curves of her breast, down her soft, flat belly. Lower. When he slipped his fingers between her legs he found her slick and wet. She shivered and let out a moan, which Nate echoed. “You’re sure?” he asked huskily, giving her one more out, though it nearly killed him to think of not finishing what they’d started.
Instead of answering, she reached into her robe, which lay open beneath her. When she retrieved something from the pocket and held it up to show him, Nate smiled.
“I don’t know why I took this when I saw the box in J.T.’s linen closet.” She tentatively bit the corner of her lip as the two of them stared at the small packet in her hand. “Is it wicked? Have I shocked you?”
Nate laughed softly, then reached out and plucked the condom from between her fingers. “Not wicked. Delightful.”
He lowered his mouth to hers for another long, wet, languorous kiss. When her hands moved down his body in an appreciative, lingering caress, he almost shook with his need to be inside her. Then she moved her hand lower, taking his erection in her hand. Her head fell back and her eyes closed as she explored him with her fingers until Nate had to physically pull away to avoid ending this interlude a hell of a lot sooner than he wanted.
“I want you inside me now, please,” she whispered, her eyes still closed, a sultry smile curving her pink lips.
Needing no further invitation, Nate sheathed himself with the condom, then moved between her thighs, taking another moment to taste the warm, moist skin of her neck.
She whimpered and slid one incredibly soft leg around his hips, urging him closer until he was poised at the hot, wet entrance of her body. He’d barely begun to move into her when she thrust her hips up, engulfing him, taking what he’d intended to offer her slowly and gently.
“Yes,” she cried, her voice echoing in the huge room as she took him all the way inside her.
Nate had to stop, to suck in a breath. Had to get accustomed to the most intensely pleasurable sensation he’d ever experienced. It went beyond sex, beyond physical. He felt like it was his first time. He’d never imagined that physical sensations could so quickly be enhanced by emotional ones.
“I can’t believe…” she began, then paused to gasp as he slowly withdrew from her body, only to plunge again. Deep. Fast. His every movement was enhanced by the bounce of the trampoline, setting a wonderful, unique rhythm to which they both began to dance in earnest.
“I’ve never…that is, I think I’m going to…” When her cries grew louder and he saw the telltale flush rising in her body, Nate knew she was close to climaxing.
“Yes, do,” he whispered against her lips as he changed his movements, rocking against her until she hissed her delight. She caught his motion, using his lower body to apply pressure to her most sensitive spot. Nate slowed his movements, allowing her to take what she needed, watching her face as she finally reached that peak of pleasure. And only after he saw that moment, heard a fulfilled cry that bordered on a scream, did he follow her to his own soul-shattering release.
Afterward, Nate watched her beautiful face, watched her breaths slow, her color return to normal. Finally, when she opened her eyes and gave him a pleased, languorous smile, he gently pulled out of her and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.
“I need to know your name,” she said dreamily. “So I know what to cry out the next time.”
“And I need to know yours,” he finally said when their lips broke apart again. “So I can know who now owns me body and soul.”
She stretched lethargically and kissed his jaw. Lifting a shoulder, she allowed the robe to fall completely off one arm. As he bent lower to taste that sweet, smooth skin, she whispered, “My name’s…”
Before she could finish, the door opened and an overhead light flashed on. Nate didn’t want to believe it. He wanted to believe it even less when he looked toward the open doorway and saw who stood there.
“J.T.” he said. “Oh, boy.”
“Oh, boy is right,” the woman in his arms echoed, her horror undisguised.
J.T. Birmingham entered the room with Raul directly behind him. Nate couldn’t meet his friend’s eyes, which had grown as round as saucers as he spied Nate and the gorgeous blonde tangled together—arms, legs and bathrobes. Wanting to protect her, Nate shifted slightly so they could see only his terry-cloth-covered back. She took the moment when she was shielded from their stares to pull her robe together over her naked, trembling body.
“Son, you’re wearing my robe,” J.T. finally said, his voice calm and steady, betraying no hint of his mood.
Yeah, he was caught by a millionaire, wearing the man’s robe during the middle of an important cocktail party at which he was a guest of honor. Caught having sex with a gorgeous stranger on that man’s trampoline.
“Can things get any worse?” he muttered.
“And,” J.T. finally continued, “you’re lying on top of my daughter.”
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