A Touch of Confidence (11 page)

His hands worked on her shirt, yanking it from her pants and tugging it up her waist and over her breasts. For a split second he regretted having to release her lips, but the benefits of hauling the shirt over her shoulders far outweighed the temporary absence of her mouth.

“I guess this means we’re doing the personal thing after all,” Claire said as she helped him, shimmying out of the offensive material.

“I’ve been doing the personal thing with you since you walked into the Rose Bay shop.” He sealed their lips back together again.

Jack didn’t leave it at that. Not when his hands itched to hold the full weight of her breasts. Yesterday his access had been limited by her bra. Today, he reached behind her, unclipped the hooks and tossed the bra to the other side of the room.

When his hands found her ample breasts and cupped them, he again had to break the kiss. This time because a ragged moan tore from his throat.

Heavy, soft, round, womanly.

Christ, he never wanted to let them go. He’d be content to caress them for eternity. He pulled away from her to admire her semi-nudity. Admire Claire with nothing obstructing his view from the waist up.

Immediately her arms covered her nudity.

Her actions had shocked him yesterday and they shocked him again today. That she was shy and uncomfortable with her magnificent body was a crime. A sin. No woman who looked like her should be inhibited or hide behind her clothes or her arms.

“No.” His voice was harsh. “Don’t cover up. Not from me. Not ever.”

She looked up at him, uncertainty clear in her eyes.

“Claire,” he whispered. “You’re beautiful. Perfect. You have to believe that.”

Her smile was shy. “You make me feel beautiful.”

“Hold on to that feeling. Remember it always. Because whether I’m around or not
—
and I plan to be around a lot
—
you should always feel beautiful.”

Her expression changed. From shy to…naughty? Damn, was that mischief he spied in her eyes?

Her next actions confirmed that it was indeed mischief. Instead of covering herself, she cupped her breasts, holding them together, so when Jack dropped his gaze to her chest once more, he was greeted with two plump, glorious globes thrusting up to meet him and two distended nipples peeking back at him.

He buried his head in their fullness, rubbing first one cheek against a breast and then the other against her second breast. When he could restrain himself no longer, he took her nipple in his mouth and sucked, making Claire whimper.

She did not remain idle. No, Claire’s hands were busy.

“It’s not fair that you’re the only one who gets to play,” she told him.

Her fingers were on his button, his fly, and his pants were being pushed over his hips and down his legs. Not just his pants, his boxers as well. He kicked off his shoes and the pants and boxers fell to the floor. He didn’t give them another thought.

How could he, when Claire’s hot fist had closed over his engorged cock? When her thumb dabbed at the slit on his cockhead, rubbing pre-come over it?

“I want to have some fun as well.”

Jesus, skilled as her hand might be, tempting as it was, he wanted more. Not her hand. Not her mouth. He wanted to bury himself in her pussy. In the same sweet, wet, swollen pussy he’d feasted on yesterday.

Without releasing the nipple he currently laved, he imitated Claire’s actions, undoing her pants and shoving them down her legs. Soon as her knickers reached her knees, he swirled his finger over her pussy lips, and nearly fell to his knees when warm liquid spilled onto his hand.

She laughed hoarsely. “What? No Shakespeare today?”

Jack shook his head, distracted. He could hardly remember who Shakespeare was at this point, let alone identify appropriate quotes. “My head’s so full of you right now, Miss Jones, I can’t think of anything else.”

He buried his finger deep, deep inside her channel, making Claire shudder.

“Jack…” Her voice was a breathless whisper, and he could only assume his finger made her forget Shakespeare too.

He buried a second finger inside her, loving the smooth slide, glorying in the spasm that ripped through her inner walls, trapping his fingers for just a second.

“Oh, dear God. That feels good.”

Fuck, she was wet. So wet. So tempting. He rubbed his thumb over her clit, and his name tore from her throat.

Her fist pumped his dick, clasping him tight in its warm grasp, making him see stars.

He slipped his wet fingers from her pussy, and remembering her response to his teasing yesterday, slid his hand backward, between the full globes of her buttocks, and found her hidden hole, caressing it.

She stopped breathing. Her fist stilled around his erection.

Jack dipped his finger inside her, knuckle deep, and Claire yelped.

The sound resonated through him, sending a fresh surge of blood to his cock.

“Jack,” she moaned, his name a desperate plea. “Please, God. Fuck me now.”

For a split second, Jack blanked. The world went black. Claire’s begging did something to him. Made molten lava rise in his balls. Turned him on in ways he never knew a man could be turned on. The woman who had threatened him with legal action, who had refused to get involved with him in case she had to involve a lawyer in their relationship, now begged.

The statuesque and beautiful Miss Jones wanted him to fuck her? Who was he to refuse? How could he refuse when images of spending the rest of his life giving her pleasure danced through his imagination?

Easing his finger from her hole, he dropped to his knees, scrambled for his pants, found his wallet, and thanked God he had the common sense to keep a condom in there at all times.

In a heartbeat, his dick was covered, and he was back on his feet, his mouth pressed to Claire’s, his hand on her ass, urging her closer.

She spread her thighs, wrapped a leg around one of his, opening herself up to his searching cock. Her hand was on his erection, holding it, rubbing it, steering it towards her.

And then he was there. Poised on the brink, his cockhead brushing her pussy lips, his heart pounding in his ears.

Jesus, he wanted this. Wanted it more than he wanted air. Wanted Claire more than he wanted his next breath. He couldn’t believe he’d known her just three days. Couldn’t seem to remember a time he’d not lusted after her.

“Do it,” she insisted, no hint of the shy, inhibited woman he’d undressed moments ago. This was a confident Claire, a lover who knew what she wanted. Demanded it. “Fuck me.”

She tilted her hips towards him, and Jack was lost. He did the only thing he could have done, the only thing he wanted to do. He thrust upwards and drove inside her, thunderstruck by the ecstasy that surged through him as he seated himself balls deep in her hot channel.

Jesus, fuck. Even through the condom, her heat assaulted his senses. She was tight. So fucking tight, her pussy squeezing his cock. Clutching it in a loving grasp that blew his mind and made him want to come there and then.

Claire showed him no mercy, gave him no time to recover. She rocked her hips back, sliding right off his cock, leaving just the tip inside her, then lunged back down, enveloping him once more.

“Not gonna last, beautiful,” he gasped. “Not even gonna make a minute if you keep on like that.”

“Don’t need…stamina, my gorgeous…giant.” Her voice was as breathless as his. “Just need you to fuck me.”

There was no holding back after that. No going slow. Jack grasped her hips, loving their curves and feeling undying gratitude for their size and sturdiness. He could hold on for dear life as he drove into her.

And drive into her he did, propelling his cock inside her, plunging in deep and pulling back with uncontrolled momentum
—
a new experience for him, a freedom he’d never had with other women.

She met him stroke for stroke, matching his eagerness and his strength, crying out as he filled her to the max and complaining as he withdrew. She used his body to balance her own, hanging on to him so her leg didn’t slip as she rocked against him.

Just like he’d imagined her doing that first morning they’d met, she dug her nails into his back, scratching at his flesh. He relished the sting, loved the burn. The pain only increased his pleasure, and he drove into her harder, faster.

Jack did not restrain himself. Did not temper his strokes for fear of causing her injury with his size. She was more than his equal, more than capable of taking whatever he gave, and giving it back in equal measure. He slammed into her repeatedly, his cock surging as deep inside her as he could get.

It didn’t last long. Couldn’t last long. Impossible to sustain this kind of pressure.

Jack’s balls constricted. Come bubbled within. His cock was stiff as a fucking pole, and he was surrounded by heaven.

“Gonna come, Claire,” he warned, wishing he could hold out until she reached her peak, but realizing he was incapable of staving off the inevitable. “Can’t hold back.”

“Come,” she moaned. “Do it. Come.”

That was all it took. Jack plunged into her twice more and lost control. He climaxed, just like she insisted, his orgasm tearing through his shaft, semen spurting from his cock.

And as he exploded inside her, she came apart around him. Her inner muscles clamped down on his pulsing shaft, a tight glove holding him, milking him, making him come even harder.

He’d never experienced such a powerful orgasm. Never felt dizzy after sex.

But by the time his breathing began to normalize, his heart slowed to a sprint and his cock shrunk down to half its size, Jack was giddy. High. Intoxicated by his Amazonian beauty.

And if truth be told, already more than a little in love with her.

Chapter Seven

As they’d arranged after signing the lease, Claire made her way across the pier, seeking a small white fishing boat with a black canopy and the name
Big Mac
painted on its side.

She wondered briefly why it wasn’t called
Big Jack
.

Jack had invited her to go fishing with him. Since it was a Saturday during school holidays, and Julia’s turn to mind the shop, Claire was free. Which meant she and Jack could spend the entire day together.

She inhaled nervously. It was one thing arguing about property agreements and leases or poking fun at his terrible voice. She’d had nothing invested in Jack at the time.

But all that had changed now. Jack had put himself out for her. Displayed an amazing amount of confidence in his ability to make things right after messing up the Rose Bay lease agreement. He’d found her a shop he knew she’d love, and saved her and her sisters from filing a lawsuit and spending time and money on searching for another shop. Yes, he’d done it as much for himself as for her, but she suspected he’d honestly wanted to correct his mistake, and she appreciated that about him.

Jack had also seen her naked. One hundred percent nude, with not a stitch of clothing in sight. And he’d loved what he’d seen. Made her feel like a million dollars
—
a billion dollars. He’d instilled a sense of confidence in her. For the first time in forever, instead of hiding her body, she’d been proud to display it. And she couldn’t wait to display it again. Maybe tonight?

The man had crept into her heart. She didn’t know how he’d done it, or when, she just knew a little piece of her heart now belonged to him. Apart from the sensational sex, she genuinely liked him
—
everything about him. And that didn’t just mean his size. She liked his humor and his caring, liked his sensitivity and his strength, liked that he could poke fun at himself and collapse at her feet when emotion overwhelmed him. She just liked Jack. Very much.

And in liking him, she’d invested in him. Invested her emotions in him. She wanted to spend time with him. Wanted to know him in all ways
—
not just sexually and professionally. She just hoped he wanted it as much as she did.

She found the
Big Mac
a couple of minutes later, identifying it by the massive man on board. Her knees turned weak at the sight of him. Up until now, he’d only worn formal pants and ties around her. Today he was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt that hugged his muscles and made her legs grow weak.

Oh, yeah. She had it bad.

As soon as he saw her, he took the cooler bag from her hands
—
the one she’d stuffed full with yummy food and treats for them to share as they spent the day on the water
—
set it on the deck, and helped her on board.

“Hey, beautiful.” His voice sounded rough. A little off, as though he hadn’t slept last night, but she didn’t have time to analyze it or his expression. She had only a few seconds to notice the grey smudges around his eyes before he pulled her into his arms and held her there.

Held her tight. Held her close. Didn’t release her for a very long time. Which would have been perfectly fine with her
—
she relished the feel of his hard body pushed against hers, loved how beautifully they fitted together
—
if she didn’t sense something was wrong. Very wrong.

There was an unmistakable tension in his shoulders, and his breath was uneven, maybe too slow.