Page 75 of Baby It's Cold Outside

The ache between her legs grew acute. Wes was just what she craved. A man she could trust, who was dependable. The kind of guy who watched over her when she was at her most vulnerable, but who burned with a passion so powerful it slayed all thoughts of treating her with kid gloves. He took her to places she’d never been before. Pushed her to very edge of her limits. Protective when he had to be protective.

Fierce when she needed him to be fierce.

From her breast, his third command rumbled against her sensitized skin. “My shirt.”

His mouth still working its magic, she complied. Her hands slipped under the fabric and slid down hot, hard shoulders, his muscles bulging and lengthening beneath her palms as he shifted to help push his shirt to the floor.

Once freed, his hands moved to her legs, his fingers stroking the inside of her thigh. Evie bit her lip.

“Wes, please,” she breathed, arching her back.

“Not yet,” he said. He flicked his tongue across a nipple as he brushed a thumb across her slick center.

She whimpered, the sound alien as she held her legs open, desperate for him to end the agony that held her tightly in its grip. As he continued to drive her mad with want, his thumb on her nub, mouth relentless on her breasts, strangled sounds came from her throat. Her mind went blank, numb with pleasure.

“Evie,” Wes said, his voice barely penetrating her consciousness. “Wrap your legs around my waist.” As if realizing that her brain was too far gone to function, he gripped her butt more securely, his voice firm. “Evie.”

Acting on instinct and one hundred percent desperation, she did as told, locking her ankles behind his back.

His sure swift thrust sent her pleasure skyrocketing. There was no time to think. To react. To breathe.

Clearly he burned as brightly as she did.

And all she could do was feel. The focus of his raw power between her legs driving her higher. The faint smell of cologne, heated by his body and tinged with sweat. His shoulders damp beneath her fingers, the muscles hard beneath her nails as she urged him on. One hand at her hips, his other fisted in her hair, positioning her mouth to be consumed by his as surely as his body did the rest of her.

With power.

And with absolute authority.

As if he’d humored her by allowing her to seduce him, but now was hell-bent on showing her who was in control.

The gathering sensory storm raged on as their hips arched in a rhythm that built in intensity, and a small cry escaped her mouth, absorbed by his hard lips. Pleasure clogged her throat—the promise of an orgasm so significant, the potential was almost frightening. Hungry, eager, she began to writhe against him, pleading for completion.

And, as if he’d been waiting for her to beg, hand still in her hair, he raised his lips from hers. Thick lashes heavy, his eyes dark, he pumped his hips hard, forcing her off the cliff. Sending her free-falling into a climax so bright, so hot, she pulsed with pure, white light.

…

“I thought Evie was with you, Wes?” Dan Burling asked the next day as he sank onto his parents’ living room couch. “I came by to offer moral support during her reunion with Mom and Dad, but she hasn’t arrived yet. My phone calls keep going to her voice mail. Where is she?”

Ah, yes. The million-dollar question.

Wes took a seat across from Evie’s brother. “I assumed she’d be here by now.”

Waking this morning to an empty bed had been shocking as hell, especially after the night they’d shared. Wes’s experiences with one-night stands were limited to the single episode. It had been, bar none, the most memorable evening of his life. He was pretty sure that was more a reflection of their chemistry than of the current barren state of affairs of his life. And while he’d tried to brush her disappearance off as a predictable Evie move, somehow, after getting to know her better, he knew there was more vulnerability in the escape than any real callous recklessness.

Yes, after several hours of contemplation, Wes recognized Evie’s maneuver for what it was.

Panic.

And with her brother’s brown eyes fixed on Wes’s face, and the memory of how he’d jerked Evie into his arms—and the steamy events that followed—he could sympathize with the feeling.

“I thought you got rooms at the Harbor View last night?” Dan asked.

Heat crept up Wes’s neck, and he deliberately didn’t correct the rooms to room. “Yeah,” he said, keeping his response vague. “But—” He cleared his throat to loosen the tight muscles. “But she’d left by the time I woke this morning.”

All true, no falsehoods there. Just the hugest lie by omission. Like the fact that they’d shared the same bed. Like the fact that Wes was sure he’d never be the same, because Evie made him feel more alive than he’d ever felt in his life.

Dan raked a hand through his brown hair. “I’m just trying to figure out if I need to be worried or not,” he said, though his tone broadcast that he’d already decided.

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