The Best Of The Year - Medical Romance. Carol Marinelli
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were plenty of ways to get those off her. Or not. Depending on how he felt when the time actually came.
Right now, his brain was tapping out Hurry in some kind of weird Morse code. He ignored it. No hurrying. Not tonight.
She stepped out of the jeans and kicked them to the side, before getting on her knees on the blanket. Crooking a finger at him, she motioned him closer. When he went to kneel in front of her, she gripped the knees of his jeans and hauled him closer, keeping him on his feet.
Did she know how close she was? How suggestive her position was?
“Your turn,” she said. With that, she used both hands to open his button and then unzip his fly.
His turn to what? Get undressed?
He had his answer soon enough when she tugged his pants and briefs down to his knees, freeing him. He gave an internal curse. He was right. He was in line with a very warm and wet area, and his body was sending out all kinds of messages. But he wasn’t going that route. Not without a clear sign from her.
Her hands went around him, and she glanced up at him. “Like I said, it’s your turn. Come here.”
It suddenly dawned on him. She was referring to their last encounter when he’d put her up on that bar and had his way with her.
She was about to turn the tables.
Sinking his fingers in her hair, he slowly closed his fist around the silky strands and edged her closer. That gorgeous mouth opened right on cue. So very, very close.
Hell.
“Do it.” His muttered words were rough, surprising even him.
Mira closed the gap, the heat of her mouth engulfing him in a slow glide that had him shuddering with need. Hot flames licked at his body as her hands left his erection and went to the backs of his thighs, curling around them, hauling him even closer.
His vision went white, all sensation pooling at the points of contact between them, her tongue sliding over his length in a single smooth stroke that made him wonder if he was going to lose it right here. Right now.
No. That’s not what he wanted.
When he went to step away, though, she followed him, forcing him to reach back and grip her wrists, tugging them away so he could put some space between them. The popping sound of lost suction created an agonizing mixture of triumph and despair inside him that he was in no hurry to erase. But he was in a hurry for something else.
Still holding her wrists, he hauled her to her feet, insides steaming with heat when she gazed up at him and licked her lips. “Not fair,” she murmured. “I wasn’t done yet.”
“You were done all right.” In another few seconds he would have been as well. He moved her wrists behind her back and held them there with one hand, while he palmed the back of her head with the other, holding her still so he could capture her mouth. His tongue plunged inside, a demonstration of what he had in store for her, and he used his hold on her wrists to press her abdomen against him, trapping himself between their bodies. It wasn’t nearly enough, but he had to somehow slow this train wreck down.
He let go of her hands, sliding up to find the clasp on her bra and releasing it. Then he stepped back yet again, taking the straps with him, allowing the silky garment to drop onto the blanket. Then he tugged his shirt over his head and finished losing the rest of his clothes.
Allowing his gaze to slide over her, he reveled in the toned limbs that came with skiing and working in the snow and ice, and the pale creamy skin that went so perfectly with a chilly climate. No tanning beds for this ice princess.
Only she wasn’t made of ice. She was hot and smooth and made him ache like no one ever had before. He held out his arms, and she came into them willingly, her nipples pressing against him, her silk panties welcoming his hands as he slid beneath the back of them and cupped her bottom. Hell, he wanted to be inside her. Wanted to thrust and grunt all the way to completion, but part of his pleasure was watching her come apart beneath his hands. So he set about making that happen, allowing his lips and teeth to trail from her face to her neck and finally to the tips of her breasts until her low moan washed over him.
Yes.
This was what he wanted more than anything: to be what brought her to life and led her down that sensual path until she could no longer resist its pull.
His tongue scrubbed over her nipple, letting the sounds she made guide how long he visited, how much pressure he used. And the woman could take a lot, fingers thrust into his hair pressing him closer and urging him to be just a little rougher.
Jack’s body let him know in no uncertain terms that it wanted in on the action, the ache ramping up to almost painful proportions. When she moaned again, his flesh jerked in a silent plea.
Soon.
Still beneath her panties, his hand slid from her butt around to the front and edged deeper, his fingers finding a familiar sweet heat...and damp readiness. He stroked over her, moving to kiss her mouth as those delectable little sounds increased in frequency.
Making his decision, he pulled free, wrapped one arm around her thighs and slid the other beneath her shoulders. He swept her off her feet and onto the blanket, following her down.
He kissed her hard and wet and long, feeling her arch against him.
Off came the panties. One knee went between her legs.
Anticipation roared through him as he slid a finger deep inside her, thumb going to that sensitive nub of flesh and stroking over it in gentle flicks that had him quivering with need.
“Jack.” Her back arched again.
That was all the encouragement it took for him to slide his body into the gap between her thighs and surge forward. He found her, just as he’d expected. Hot and tight and slick with her own need.
He swallowed, knowing he’d waited too long. His body was tightly wound, full, ready to burst open at the slightest move.
“Hold on, sweetheart, it’s going to be a bumpy ride.”
Struggling to keep himself in check, he thrust again and again, concentrating on hitting that one vital spot at the top of her legs. Legs that wrapped around him, pulling him deeper and harder as she lifted her hips and plastered herself against him the second they made contact again. She ground and gasped and wiggled, eyes closing tight as that final wave of sensation swept toward them. It crashed over her first, the sudden tightening of her flesh around his unleashing a torrent inside him. He rode the crest a second or two longer before finally succumbing and tumbling headlong into the surf, allowing it to carry him all the way back to shore.
He lay there for several seconds, not sure if he was stunned into immobility or if he’d died and rocketed straight into heaven. All he knew was that there was no place he’d rather be than right here in this woman’s arms.
And that fact terrified him. Paralyzed him.
Because one act had just cost him everything.
In rushing to the finish line, Jack had lost much more than the fight with his body. He’d also lost the battle with his heart.
* * *
Jack had been quiet the whole ride back to the lodge the next day. They’d gone to bed the previous night, where he’d held her, looping his arm around her as they’d slept. But he hadn’t tried to make love to her again, unlike the previous time they’d been together.
She wasn’t sure if she’d done something wrong or if it was just him.
Part of her was afraid she’d appeared too desperate and needy, grabbing at him and giving herself that last burst of pleasure. But it had been too late to stop by that point. And he’d seemed to like it at the time, groaning encouragement into her ear and increasing his pace.
But afterwards he’d seemed strange, rolling off her and staring at the ceiling