Page 37 of Taken With You
“Please,” she whispered, yanking on the ties so hard the headboard rattled.
He nipped the tip of her nose. “That’s not a safe word, remember?”
“I know.”
He grabbed a leg and pushed it higher. His heart dropped, kicked up again, as he looked between them to find her wet and rosy, open to him. He thrust himself inside her and set his shattered mind to solely her pleasure.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Amanda woke slowly. She shifted her position to avoid the light that fell across her closed eyelids. Beyond the walls of the room, she heard the muffled chirping of birds. She lifted her arms far above her head, stretching in sultry satisfaction. When she lowered them, she reached across the bed and found nothing but tangled sheets.
Had she just imagined the evening?
No, she could still smell the perfume of his skin on the sheets.
With a satisfied sigh, she turned to her side and dragged his pillow close, breathing in his aftershave. Her lady parts woke up all over again. She remembered their wee-hours-of-the-morning tussle, when he’d slid into her from behind. The back of her neck still throbbed, lightly, with the faintest imprint of his teeth. The back of her hand brushed up against the loose end of a tether, still attached to the headboard.
She closed her eyes to enjoy a slow-moving-molasses wave of hot delight. Garrick Kane was a bedroommaster. She just might have experienced sexual nirvana. The risk of this relationship had loomed large in her mind last night, and now she was so thoroughly sated she could hardly remember her reservations. Why, exactly, hadn’t they shared a bed sooner?
From the hall came the sound of footsteps. She nudged herself to attention, gathering the sheets to her chest as the door swayed open. With a well-laden tray in his hands, Garrick backed his way in, fully dressed in low-slung jeans and a fitted black T-shirt.
“Ah.” He flashed her a half grin. “You’re awake.”
She pouted in exaggeration as he approached. “You’re wearing clothes.”
“And you’re still not.” He leaned over in a cloud of coffee scent as he nudged the legs of the tray open and set it across her lap. “I’d be right beside you, if I hadn’t already scheduled for this morning a videoconference call with New York and a London interest. I couldn’t push it past seven a.m., or I would have messed with the London client’s tea time.”
That was a lot of words. She stopped trying to process them as he lowered his head and planted a kiss on her lips. He pulled away sooner than she wanted him to. Then he sat on the edge of the bed, his muscles flexing under the black cotton.
“Eat,” he said, nudging the tray with his elbow. “Keep your strength up.”
She scanned the tray of scrambled eggs and cheese, strips of crisp bacon, home fries, and even a twisted slice of orange on the edge of the juice glass. She’d never been so hungry in her life.
She seized a fork. “Did you whip this up yourself?”
“Who else?”
“Is there anything you can’t do, Garrick?”
“I can’t free-climb El Capitan. I still can’t enjoy wine. And I sure as hell can’t stop thinking about you.”
Her fork tipped, hitting the edge of the plate with a sharpting. His dark blue eyes settled on her with dancing intensity. Under the sheets, she stretched her toesen pointe. Was she just sex-dazed from a hot-and-heavy evening, or had she been missing out all these years on the real thing?
He found her knee under the sheets and squeezed the sensitive hollows on either side. “I almost woke you up again when my alarm went off. But you didn’t move. Your hair was spread all over the pillow. I didn’t have the heart to nudge you awake.”
“Garrick,” she said, raising her egg-covered fork, “consider this an open invitation to nudge me awake whenever the mood moves you.”
His grin went wolfish. “Can we get that written into the new partnership agreement?”
“You don’t believe in handshake deals?”
“I believe in backing up promises.”
“Then have your people call mine.”
His laugh was low and rumbling. The tray tilted as he leaned over it, leading with those muscled shoulders. The plate rattled, a saltshaker tipped over, and she barely swallowed the bite of egg in her mouth before he planted a kiss on her. The fork fell out of her hand. She slid a palm across his smooth, shaven cheek. A new tenderness bloomed as he pulled away to run his nose against her cheek, to brush a hair off her lips with his thumb, to seek the hollow of her jaw. She began to wonder how she’d ever get enough of him.
“Damn,” he said as a shrill sound filled the room. “That’s another thing I can’t stop,” he said, glancing down at his pants pocket, lit up from his phone screen. “I should throw this thing off a cliff.”
