All Fired Up (Kate Meader) (22 page)

What the hell? Rarely did she come once, never mind two times. It was like every orgasm she had ever faked was getting its revenge.

“Hope I’m not boring you,” he said, his grin sexily smug.

She tried to breathe herself to blasé. It took a couple of moments. “You’re holding my interest. Barely.”

He laughed, a hearty sound that painted the white walls of her bedroom cell in glorious color. That was Shane, a vibrant rainbow splashed over her monochrome existence.

“You were awfully noisy, love. I think you could be louder though.”

She pursed her lips to hide the smile she felt building. “It’d have to be pretty spectacular.”

“I can do spectacular. I’ve won awards. Hat or no?”

“Hat.”

With an eyebrow waggle, he reached over and grabbed the hat. He adjusted it so it sat at the perfect angle over his eyes. So fucking sexy.

“And if you need an extra treat, my nipples are here for your pleasure.”

Her laughing snort morphed into something long and hard. No man had ever made her laugh like this.

I know why I married you. You make me feel good. You make me feel.

“Love that sound, LT. Love all your sounds.” He grinned. “Let’s make some more. Scoot up.”

She walked back on her elbows, watching wide-eyed as he made a sinuous crawl up her body, taking sensuous pit stops to lick and suckle at her navel and breasts. His teeth rasped across one tight bud, and then he latched his warm, wet mouth onto the other.

Spirals of pleasure tightened her skin and wound down her belly. The build began but she wanted him to be with her this time. When he raised his head, she pushed him to her side so she could spend a few moments exploring his body.

Not a hardship in the slightest.

Starting at his chest, she made ever-decreasing circles with her hand, enjoying the twitches of his tautly loomed muscles. She licked and traced the silver-white thread on his collar bone, and took time to examine the rough topography of his body. Bumpy abrasions and scar-roughened tissue that, given his age, could only have happened when he was very young. Someone had done this to him.

That made her mad as hell.

His eyes fluttered shut and his breathing grew shallow. Low, desperate sounds hummed in his throat. She held off on touching his erection as every swoop of her hand across his abdominals made his cock tap against her stomach in a sensual rhythm.

Any other guy would have pushed into her by now but Shane remained still, letting her lead after he had thrown her for a loop. It was as if he realized she needed some small dominion over this, and having grabbed control of the situation early, he was happy to let her take the wheel.

That undid her completely.

Over his shoulder, she caught their reflection in the closet door mirror. Her mouth slack with desire, a pearly pink glow to her skin, her eyes alive. So alive. His jeans and boxers rested inches below his narrow hips, exposing the paler skin of his half-covered ass. Like he was so desperate to have her, full removal was impossible. Not even his boots! The image of his powerful, semiclothed body sliding against her completely naked one felt filthier, somehow, and it summoned her moan of approval.

He opened those big brown eyes and smiled. A huge, dopey grin that knocked her sideways and made her hand shake in time with her throbbing sex.

“Eyes front, soldier,” he whispered.

“Look,” she said, chinning over his shoulder.

He twisted around to look at the mirror. “Wow,” he said, awe deepening his voice. “That’s so hot. It’s like we’re in a sexy movie.”

A sexy movie.
Why did every word out of his mouth land laden with boyish wonder? Even his filthier talk smacked of an innocent enthusiasm.

Gently, he pushed her back and knelt over her on all fours so they could both benefit from the erotic reflection. She stroked the head of his erection and spread the beaded moisture, cupping his girth and palming up and down through the slick slide.

“That’s it, Cara. So good.”

He thrust into her hands, his cock poking her stomach, every jerky motion ratcheting up her own desire. Alternating between holding her gaze firm, not-so-furtive glances to the mirror, and checking out the expanding situation below, he finally settled for keeping his sniper focus on her. She’d beaten out all that competition for his attention.

Impressive, girl.

“Condom. Pocket,” he croaked.

From his jeans she pulled out a condom and in the time it took her to open it—yes, out of practice there, too—he stripped completely. Half-naked Shane was something. The full deal was something else. Leaning up, she rolled the condom on quickly, relieved she hadn’t forgotten how.

“You ready for me, darlin’?”

“Lemme have it, cowboy.”

He settled between her legs, bearing his weight on his elbows, then inched himself in. Slow and slick, filling up that empty spot inside her. Her body thrummed like a live wire, every cell a sensitive mass of nerve endings. This was what it felt like to be in the moment. Joy didn’t require nearly as much effort when Shane was doling it out.

“I’ll go gentle,” he murmured.

She didn’t need gentle. She needed hard and now.

About halfway in, he stopped. “You’re tight—damn, so tight.”

This shouldn’t be all about her. For too long, it had been all about her. She wrapped a leg around his hip and dug her fingers into his hot Irish ass. “Take all you want, honey.”

Their eyes locked and something passed between them. He thrust into her hard, stretching her full while his hands cupped her butt and held her in place for his pleasure. With each push, her muscles pulled, clamping down on his erection.

“Sketchy six,” she thought he muttered, then louder, “We look good together.”

She fed a sidelong gaze at the mirror and met him there. His body was all lean sinew; the muscles of his back flexed like cogs turning under silk. Hard against soft, fire against ice. He was wrong, though—they didn’t look good together. They looked perfect.

“We feel good together.” He withdrew and slid back in with a long, sensuous glide. “Tell me you feel it, too, Cara.” His eyes bored into her, the real her, not her reflection. The no-longer-numb version.

This is what happened that night. This feeling.

“Yes, Shane, I feel it.”

Yet again, control had switched to his side and she was beginning to wonder if it had ever left it. She slanted her lips, desperate for the angle that would satisfy. He responded in kind but it wasn’t enough—it never could be. She could feel gravity disappearing as weightlessness descended, a floating sensation she didn’t trust.

She tightened her sex again and was rewarded with his husky moan. His thrusts became more urgent, deeper, creating a river of sensation that flowed throughout her body and emptied into the delta between her thighs. Her head lolled back as she lost herself in him.

Limply, she collapsed and waited for his release. Usually she turned away when a guy came inside her, fearing his disappointment, but not now. She cupped Shane’s jaw and held it as he poured himself into her with every thrust. His body strained just as hers relaxed into cottony softness.

“Again,” he whispered.

“What?”

“Come again.” His teeth dug into his lower lip, the tendons in his neck stretched tight.

“I don’t think I ca—” But then he changed his position, like he was channeling
Cosmo
sex tips or something. His length now stroked her center in a quicker tempo and the tightening pressure in her belly hiked up all over again. So fast that she couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t believe him.

Again. She came again with a force that left her drowning, her body given over to a pleasure she didn’t understand. That she wasn’t even sure she had a right to. His groan mingled with her diminishing whimpers, and she held onto him as if she deserved him. Her sweet dessert for taking a walk on the wild side. Her reward for being a good girl and eating her greens.

She fooled her mind into pretending he belonged to her for this one marvelous night. She’d always been good at playing tricks.

*  *  *

Shane found interesting uses for the knee-high ledge in her shower—
it’s wasted on shampoo, Cara
—and by the time they stumbled out, she was sated, pruned, and a little cold. Quickly, she wrapped herself in one of her fluffy bath towels and settled in for the show in her fogged-up mirror. Shane rubbing his skin dry was a sexy
digestiv
, the perfect conclusion to a calorie-laden meal. She figured it had to be okay to ogle after what they’d done.

He had no shame about his body, and why would he? He was a fine, powerful machine, every part perfect from his mink-brown head through his sculpted torso and those legs, strong enough to hold any weight, even one as insubstantial as hers. Too soon, the moisture beads on his skin were absorbed by her high-quality cotton. Damn those expensive hotel bath linens.

She drew a deep breath and got to untangling her hair with a comb, all while spying how he wrapped the towel around his waist. It rested low on his hips. She wanted to kiss those hips. Then he put on his cowboy hat and she unraveled like a loose thread on a sweater. Shakily, she continued with her hair, wishing she had the courage to ask him to stay.

“Looks like we found out something else you’re good at.” He circled her waist from behind and brushed a light kiss on her rounded shoulder. “I love your shoulders. I think they’re my favorite part of you.”

She doubted he would have thought the same thing three years ago when her shoulder blades were sharp enough to slice through a tomato can. Those bony shoulders had been loved by Cara, and Cara alone.

Strong arms cradling her, he set his mouth to the tease setting with hot kisses along the curve of her neck. The hat tickled her temple.

“Shane, I need to dry my hair.”

He took the comb out of her hand and threw it on the vanity.

“Shane!”

“
Shane!
” he mimicked. A pleasant weight dug into the small of her back, reminding her of the resilience of youth. He couldn’t possibly be ready to go again—could he?

“Cara, I have so many dirty fantasies about you. Taking you on the kitchen counters at the restaurant, on your office desk, in the alley behind Sarriette. Your tight arse in those tight skirts drives me wild. So wild.” He bit down on her earlobe. “I can’t wait to get inside you again. Feel you so hot and wet around me.”

His lips trailed a path of sweet destruction along her jaw. She felt as though she was falling, plunging to a great depth. It was dangerous and delicious. Maybe once more to savor—

“How’s your fridge looking?” he asked.

Her mind flip flopped like a landed fish. “Excuse me?”

Cool air hit the damp, exposed skin of her back as Shane stepped away. “Sex always makes me hungry. I’m going to need a sandwich to keep up with you for the rest of the night.” Before she could snap her jaw back into place, he was already striding to her kitchen.

“Shane,” she called out, thinking she should allay his disappointment as soon as possible—about the contents of her fridge and his prospects for the rest of the night. Following, her mouth returned to its default position, dropped and drooling, while she took in the sight before her. A big bear of a man in the very small kitchen she scarcely used. Those powerful shoulders flexed above a mountain of male. As luxurious as the towel was, it couldn’t hide how his butt muscles bunched as he leaned into the fridge to do his hunter-and-gatherer bit.

“LT, where’s the food fit for the man who just took you to the heights of passion? All you’ve got is salad and”—his burly frame hid whatever he picked up—“Greek yogurt,” he finished sourly, as if its very Greekness had insulted him. The melancholy in his voice brought her close to a giggle.

On opening the freezer door, his shoulders sagged. “I hope you have stock in Lean Cuisine. You’re going to have to get in some man food.”

“Man food?”

“Bread, meat, cheese.” He bundled her in his arms. It felt too, too good. “Cara, if you want me to keep you satisfied, you have to take care of me.”

A crawly feeling crept across her skin. This was getting out of hand. “I’m not filling my fridge for you—”

“Sounds dirty. Keep it up.” He dropped a light kiss on her forehead.

Reluctantly, she extracted herself from his strong, masculine hold. “Shane, this is it.”

“That’s okay. I’ve got something in mine.”

“No, Shane,
this
is it.”

“Ah, the night’s not over yet.” His caramel eyes turned smoky and deliberate, hinting at the good times that lay ahead if only she would lighten up. Farther down, the good times were making themselves known in a very definite manner.

“I already told you no overnight stays.”

“But I haven’t fallen asleep yet,” he reasoned.

“
But,
” she said, dragging out the word and trying not to think of his excellent butt, “you will eventually, and probably on top of me like you did in…before.” She couldn’t even say “Las Vegas.” So much for getting over it.

“I did not fall asleep on top of you. I held you with care,” he said, indignant.