Page 126 of These Summer Storms

“You. I need you.”

Another low rumble as he rewarded her with long strokes over her straining flesh, back and forth, too light. Too smooth.

“Are you going to stay quiet?”

Considering the things that question did to her, she wasn’t sure she could, but she wasn’t about to tell him that. “Yes,” she said, grabbing his wrist and pressing him closer. “God, yes, Jack. Now stop teasing me.”

This beautiful man did as he was told, tucking his broad shoulders between her thighs, holding her open as he set his mouth to her, his tongue tracing along her soft heat.

And Alice, no longer embarrassed, no longer anything but aching and needing and so fucking humid for him, gave herself over to this man who had been tempting her for days. And it was different this time, because she knew who he was, and she didn’t care, as long as he didn’t stop. Her fingers slid into his hair again, clenching, as she urged him on, rolling her hips against his sinful, skilled mouth, loving the feelof him there, as he closed his eyes and groaned his pleasure in a long, low sound that set her on fire.

“Yes,” she cried out, and he lifted his mouth from her, making her want to scream.

“Shh,” he whispered to her core, the sound making everything hotter, more achy. “What did I say?”

Later, she would be horrified at the way she whimpered, “I’ll be quiet, I swear.”

Actually, she wouldn’t be horrified. She’d like the memory of what came next too much, when something wicked flashed in his eyes and he said, “Good girl,” just before finding her clit and stroking over it with a rough urgency that made her whisper, “Holy shit,” to the ceiling before she closed her eyes and let her head fall back and rocked against him, one of his arms coming to brace against her stomach, somehow increasing the pleasure, focusing it, like bright light.

“Jack,” she whispered to the big room, her hands scrambling for purchase and strength on the heavy desk. “Please…”

Don’t stop.

She didn’t have to say it.

He wasn’t going to.

Instead, he worked her over, fucking her with his hands and his tongue, in the slow rhythm she had never known she needed until she was coming against him, taking her pleasure, using him, controlling him, riding him, his name on her lips as she whispered her pleasure to the room and lost all her strength, falling back on the desk, undone.

And he stayed there as she came down from her pleasure, his fingers stilling, his tongue gentling, stroking in long, slow licks that sent delicious tremors of pleasure through her until she returned to the room, to the enormous windows overlooking the Bay, the walls full of priceless art, the heavy oak at her back.

She sat up as he released her and came to his feet, meeting her kiss as she reached for him, shoving his shirt over his shoulders and setting her hands to his waistband. “Is this okay?”

He gave a little laugh. “Yes. Fuck. Whatever you want.”

She smiled up at him as her hand slid into his boxer briefs and he groaned his pleasure. “WhateverI want?”

“You don’t scare me, Alice,” he said, the words sounding more honest than sex had ever been for her as he pulled her to him and kissed her again. “I can take it.”

The words lingered, wrapping themselves around her for a heartbeat, making her wish they were true—that this man might be the one who would give her what she wanted. That he might be the one she could trust. The one who would stand by her side. Fight for her.

Like everything he’d done for her so far was just a taste of what they might have in the future.

She liked that thought too much to let it stay, and she pushed it out of her mind with another kiss while she stroked his hard length. Breaking the caress, she whispered, “Tell me you have a condom, Boy Scout.”

He gave a low laugh and reached for his wallet. “In fact—”

She made quick work of his clothes, pushing them past his lean hips to the floor as he sheathed his heavy cock and slid his hands over her again, stroking and kissing and worshipping her in all the spots he’d discovered before, until she was desperate for him again. And then he lifted her, positioning her on the edge of the desk once more, pressing into her, strange and familiar andoh yesandright thereandslower, longer,giving her everything she asked for, letting her control the pace, the movement, the strokes, him, until their breathing had gone ragged and she was having trouble with words and she whispered, a broken “Please.”

And then he was fucking her in heavy thrusts, hard and smooth and perfect, like they’d been doing it for a lifetime. Like they would do it for a lifetime. And she was biting back her pleasure because he was whispering how quiet she had to be, how anyone could hear them, how she was so good, and so perfect, and he loved the feel of her, and did she want to touch herself? Did she want to come?

She did, coming hard around him, and he was with her, falling over the edge, his own groan loud and welcome and absolutely audible outside the door, but Alice didn’t care, because it was all so perfect, and allshe could think was that she’d never felt such pleasure, and she’d never wanted anything so much, and then, as he pulled her in for a final kiss, wrapping her in his embrace as their breathing began to slow, a tempting thread of something like belonging coiled through her, and she realized this was what she’d remember about this day forever.

And what a gift that would be.

Chapter

18

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