Page 44 of Driving Him Wild

I cast around for a suitable safe word as she stared down at me, eyes blazing.

And then it became laughably clear. Theonlything it could be. ‘Hazel,’ I said, the word ringing inside me.

‘Hazel,’ she repeated, a smile curving her lips. ‘I can work with that.’

Her gaze swept up and down my body, lingered on my hair. I couldn’t quite read her expression but

I could tell she wanted to touch me. More specifically, drag her fingers through my hair the way she did last night in the tent. And, boy, did I want her to.

I didn’t vocalise my need, however. The words would remain locked in my throat until she gave

me permission. She didn’t give it.

Instead, she stepped back, casting a critical eye over the cabin. She paused at the fireplace and

glanced back at me. ‘I’d like you to set up the bedding you spoke about in front of the fireplace. Then undress and wait for me there.’

I rose to my feet, barely able to think through the wild roar in my ears at the thought of pleasing her.

The blankets we’d brought in from the trek still lay in a heap next to the fireplace but I went to the supply cupboard to grab fresh, more comfortable ones.

Made of thick merino wool, three would do the job of providing adequate cushioning, I judged. If

things went the way I hoped they would, we’d be there for hours. If we needed it, I’d blow up the air mattress later. Or, better still, Graciela might decide on the king-size bed going to waste upstairs.

Adding a handful of pillows, I silently thanked Mrs Percy, the old lady in the small town twenty

miles away, who I paid to keep the cabin cleaned and fully stocked. When I’d told her I was coming, she’d filled the pantry and fridge with enough food and essentials to last for weeks.

Keeping Graciela warm and comfortable for as long as the storm raged wouldn’t be a problem at

all. Suddenly, I didn’t want the snowstorm to end. Not for a long time, at least.

I crossed the living room to the fire, resisting the strong urge to glance over to where she stood next to the sofa, her arms crossed. I was head and shoulders taller than her, but her presence filled the room, filled my senses in ways that I was a little too scared to describe. Unfurling the blankets, I laid them down, tossed the pillows onto them.

A little too eagerly, I attacked the snow suit, stepped out of the thermal set and boxers, grimacing at the rock-hard erection that bobbed eagerly, excited at being freed.

I wrestled the insane need to wrap my fingers around my cock, ease the ache tearing through me,

and slowly sank to my knees at the edge of the blanket.

I heard her approach but kept my gaze fixed on the fire. She stopped behind me and for the longest

time didn’t move, although I felt her gaze on me, hot and possessive, tracking every inch of exposed skin.

‘You’re beautiful, Jensen, do you know that?’ she murmured.

‘If you say so,min elskerinde.’ I was used to women admiring the outer package, but knew that, when it came right down to it, it was what was on the inside that mattered. My father had been one

handsome bastard with a heart as black as tar, proof that beauty was only skin-deep.

Fuck, I wasn’t going to think about him. Definitely not right now.

‘You don’t like compliments?’

‘I like whatever pleases you.’

‘I’m not sure if that’s a nice save or a cop-out I need to punish you for.’

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