Page 77 of Mountain Rescue
“Stop wiggling.” This wasn’t going to last if she kept doing that. He scraped his teeth down the side of her neck, then nipped her earlobe before sucking it into his mouth.
“Dallas.”
“You like that, yeah?” Damn but he loved that raspy way she said his name. He poured more bodywash on his hands, then trailed his hand down her stomach. Her skin was wet and slick. He brushed his fingers over her sex, smiling when she responded with a breathy moan.
She slapped a hand over his and pushed. “Please.”
“Please what? Tell me what you want.” He nuzzled his nose against her neck. She smelled like vanilla, good enough to eat.
“Make me come, Dallas.”
“Thought you’d never ask.”
“Turn around.” When she did, he dropped to his knees. He put his hands on her upper thighs and pulled her to him. She exhaled a long sigh when he slid his tongue through her folds. He wanted to hear her make those breathy noises all night long. Her hands landed on the top of his head, and she curled her fingers around his hair.
As warm water rained down on them, he pleasured her while trying not to think about their time together nearing its end. Could he walk away from her when this nasty business with Hargrove was over and she could go home? And her returning to her life and some other man’s tongue being where his was?
Hell no!
Not happening. He wasn’t going to give her up.
Later, they’d talk about how to make a relationship work. If he had to spend a few weekends in LA each month, he could bear it for her. Between movies, she could spend time in Montana. But for now, he only wanted to hear those noises she made when he sent her flying. So he let his tongue do what it wanted, and that was to drink her up.
“Dallas.” The fingers that had seconds ago been curling around his hair now dug into his scalp. “Oh God, Dallas.”
The taste of her on his tongue when she came was fast becoming a craving he wasn’t sure he could live without. Not for the first time, he wished they’d met under normal circumstances. He wanted to take her out on dates, romance her, see where a relationship with her would go. But they didn’t have that option, and in a few days, he would only have his memories of her if she wasn’t agreeable to a long-distance relationship.
As he stood, he let his hands slide up her hips and up her sides to her face. He cupped her cheeks and brought his mouth to hers. While he kissed her, her hands were busy exploring him, and when they crept down his stomach, he caught them before they went any lower.
“You touch me right now, and it’s going to be over.” She had no idea what she did to him. He backed her up to the shower wall, then grabbed the condom, tore it open, and rolled it on. “Wrap your legs around me.”
He slid into her wet heat and was positive he’d found heaven. She wrapped her arms around his neck and tightened her legs around his waist. “Yeah, like that.”
“I wish you could know how good you feel inside me.”
“Trust me, it feels damn good for me, too.” When she sucked his bottom lip into her mouth, then bit down, his every nerve ending was electrified. She caught his rhythm, and their dance was one performed by couples through the ages, but it had never been like this for him before, as if they were made for each other.
“Look at me,” he said when her eyes slid closed. “I want to see your eyes when you come for me.”
She opened them, and as their gazes locked and held, he almost forgot how to breathe. His hips moved faster, harder, and when she cried his name out as convulsions shook her body, he couldn’t hold back any longer. An explosion rocked through him and he thought his heart might beat itself right out of his chest. Was he having a heart attack? If so, what a way to go.
“Fuck me,” he gasped as he buried his face against her neck.
She laughed. “I think I just did.”
“And spectacularly so.”
“You might have to come visit me once in a while for shower sex.”
“I can’t think of a better booty call.” If she was thinking that, maybe they could make something work between them. For the first time since he’d started to want more than a fling with her, hope that there really could be more blossomed.
He turned off the water, and then carried her out of the shower. He wrapped a towel around her, then turned away to get rid of the condom. Would she really be open to some kind of relationship they could make work?
“You’re beautiful, you know that, right?”
“Take off your rose-colored glasses.” He faced her. “The men who captured me made sure that isn’t true.”
She put her fingertips on the worst scar on his chest, then moved to another one and another one. “I don’t own a pair of rose-colored glasses. When I look at you, I see a beautiful man. These scars are a testament to what you endured. They’re proof that you’re strong and brave. Do they bother you? Is that why you always wear a long-sleeve shirt?”
