Hot Texas Nights. Janice Maynard

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Hot Texas Nights - Janice Maynard


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he felt himself race toward the finish line again. No way. No way in hell. Not yet.

      Carefully, he moved in her, flexing his hips, watching her face to see what she liked. Aria’s eyes fluttered shut. A look of intense concentration creased her brow.

      He gritted his teeth, panting. Quickly, before she could protest, he took her arms behind her back and manacled her wrists with one of his hand. “Ride me, darlin’. Get what you want. You’re in control.”

      She sucked in a breath, her nipples tightening until they were tiny, hard nubs. “Ethan...”

      The way she cried out his name raised the hair all over his body. He touched her where their bodies were joined, stroking her lightly, caressing the nerves that controlled her release. “More,” he croaked. “Give us both what we want.”

      His intimate touch lit a flame that consumed them. Aria braced her hands on his shoulders and rode him hard. The fall of her hair blinded him. Just when he thought he was going to come a second time, Aria stilled.

      As she leaned forward, the slight shift in position hit about a dozen different hot spots in his groin.

      “I like this, Ethan. Why did you make us wait so long?”

      He grabbed a hank of her hair and reeled her in for a desperate kiss. He wanted her to stop talking. This was no time to analyze why he had finally broken his hands-off policy with Aria. He didn’t want to think about the consequences. They scared him to the core.

      Her lips were soft. He angled her head and took the kiss deeper. When she squeezed his sex with her inner muscles, he groaned.

      It was too much and not enough. If he had been in a bed, he would have rolled and put her under him. The sofa was too confining.

      He gripped her butt and thrust upward with one hard motion. Aria’s gasp energized him. Looking into her eyes was a mistake. What he saw there was everything neither of them had admitted.

      Nothing was hidden—her passion, her yearning, the same deep emotion he felt.

      Shoving the disturbing realization aside, he concentrated on what he knew best. The here and now. Giving Aria everything she deserved.

      He slowed his strokes, clamped one arm around her waist. It was clear she was close. He wanted to make it last, but his body betrayed him.

      As a dark red haze obscured his vision, he went wild, hammering into her again and again until he heard her cry out. Then he allowed himself the sweet, painful pleasure of release.

      It might have been minutes or hours until his breathing slowed to anything resembling normal. Aria was a sweet weight, her body draped over his. He shifted her to one side with his back against the sofa and tucked her in the curve of his arm. In a moment he would get up. When his legs would cooperate.

      Her hair tickled his chin. She reached for his hand and linked her fingers with his. “Will you stay the night?”

      His gut clenched. Everything had been perfect. He’d been mellow, happy. Completely satisfied. Until she uttered the five words that ruined it all.

      * * *

      Aria had always thought of heartbreak as something that happened slowly, over the course of time. When all avenues of hope had been exhausted.

      Ethan’s unmistakable tensing shattered her euphoria in one shocking instant.

      “I can’t,” he said brusquely. “I have an early flight.”

      Her throat was scraped raw by the effort to keep emotion at bay. “Oh, right,” she said. “I forgot.”

      She rolled to her feet and reached blindly for her clothes. If he had cared about her at all, he would have stayed all night and raced for the airport at the last possible second. That’s what a romantic hero would do.

      For the second time, humiliation curdled her stomach and stole her breath. She was such a fool. Weaving a fairy tale about a handsome prince. Ethan was no hero.

      He stood as well, made a quick trip to the bathroom and returned minutes later. She couldn’t look at him. Ruthlessly, she shoved her icy feet into the bunny slippers and sifted her fingers through her rumpled hair.

      When he touched her arm, he was completely dressed, from head to toe. No more washboard abs. No gloriously naked lover.

      His gaze was guarded, his expression inscrutable. “I’m sorry I have to leave.”

      Her chin lifted. “I don’t think you are. Not really. The Ethan I remember never liked complications. Too bad I forgot that.”

      Something flared in his eyes. “We can do this again. Whenever I’m in town.”

      She hadn’t thought she could feel any worse. “Hook up, you mean? Friends with benefits. How very flattering.”

      Temper flashed across his boldly masculine face like the portent of a thunderstorm. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

      Her hurt and disappointment coalesced into bitter sarcasm. “Didn’t you?” She sucked in a ragged breath. “I can’t be something you pick up and put down between business trips. I won’t.”

      “Tonight was more than that.”

      Even in the midst of her own trauma, she could see that he was disturbed. Maybe even confused. Too. Damn. Bad. She stared at him with her heart and her pride in pieces at her feet. “We drank champagne. We scratched an itch. End of story. Goodbye, Ethan.”

      He took a step in her direction. “Aria, I...”

      She held up a hand, holding him off. “Do you honestly have any interest at all in a serious, long-term relationship?”

      His jaw hardened. “No.”

      Well, there it was. She bit down hard on her bottom lip. “It’s late,” she said. “I have work in the morning. Goodbye, Ethan.”

      For the briefest of moments, a tiny spark of hope flickered. On his face she saw...something. Was he regretting his words?

      Before she could say anything else, he turned on his heel and walked out the front door.

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