"I've gotta be in you," he whispered, tearing his mouth from hers to bury his face in the curve of her neck. His whiskers scratched her skin as he licked and tasted his way across her throat and down to her collarbone.
"Oh, yeah, inside me. That's good. That sounds good to me, too."
"Protection," he muttered thickly, dipping his head to bite her neck.
His teeth stroked her fevered skin even as that one word he'd said sailed through her brain and came to a dead stop.
"Protection. Yeah. Okay." And her without a single condom in the house. She couldn't let him leave. Couldn't not feel his body within hers. She had to have him. Now. Struggling to breathe and think and speak at the same time, Rachel finally found the words she needed. "I'm on the pill. I'm good if you're-"
"Clean as a whistle," he assured her.
"Me, too. Good for us."
"Oh, yeah, excellent for us," he whispered, moving over her, settling himself between her updrawn thighs. "Best news I've ever heard."
She nodded. "Right there with you."
And then there was no more talking. This was too important for talk. Too important for thought.
Too damn important period.
His body pushed into hers and Rachel's breath caught. She arched up, meeting him, opening for him, welcoming him in deeper, harder. He was so big. So hard.
So wonderful.
He rocked his hips against hers, filling her, engulfing her with sensation. Then he took her hands and, capturing them in his, held them down at either side of her head. She tried to move and couldn't. Then she realized she didn't care about moving. She only wanted to feel.
He stared down into her eyes as he withdrew and advanced, his body lighting hers up like a fireworks show.
Every hard, solid inch of him filled her and when he pulled free of her body only to slide himself home again, Rachel groaned. This was all she'd ever dreamed of, wanted, and more.
As Shane's body drove hers toward completion, she realized that she never could have imagined this. Nothing in her experience-all right, her experience was pretty limited-could have prepared her for this. For the clamoring feelings, the mind-shattering explosions, the frantic, demanding need.
He looked down at her and she stared up into eyes that were green and gold and dark with passion. His generous mouth tight, his jaw locked, he stared into her eyes as if he couldn't have looked away if his life depended on it.
Music poured into the room from the stereo in the living room; the quilt beneath her felt cool and soft. And in the pale light, Rachel burned this image of Shane on her mind so that she would always have it with her.
He kept a tight grip on her hands, pinning her to the bed. Her hips rose and fell with him to the rhythm he set, and when electric sparks began in her bloodstream, she raced with him toward the release she knew was waiting just out of reach.
"Shane?" she called his name aloud. Had to say it. Had to hear it. Had to convince herself that this was real and not just another of her lonely dreams.
"Come for me," he said, his voice a rumble in the dimly lit room. "Come for me again. And then again."
With a shriek of bone-deep ecstasy, she did. Clinging to him as her body exploded into a fiery burst of sparks and color, she was only dimly aware when he called her name and followed her into the void.
A kaleidoscope of colors was still revolving behind her closed eyes when Rachel felt Shane roll off of her and to the edge of the bed. "What?"
She forced her eyes open and looked at him. Just one look was enough to make her body start humming again, ready for another go. Apparently, though, Shane was finished.
"You're leaving?"
He looked at her and gave her a grin that weakened her knees enough to make her grateful she was lying down.
"Just going to the living room. For the champagne."
"Ah. Good idea."
"Yeah," he said, leaning down to plant a quick kiss on her mouth. "Seems I'm just full of good ideas tonight."
She watched him leave the room and couldn't complain about the view. He even had a nice butt. But a second later, Rachel closed her eyes again and shifted lazily on the quilt her grandmother had made more than fifty years before. She winced at that thought and rolled off the bed. Quickly she pulled the quilt back and draped it over the foot of the bed, then lay down again on the clean, lavender-scented sheets.
Every inch of her body felt used up and happy.
But just as she acknowledged that fact, her brain started clicking along, demanding to know what she was going to do next. How could she sleep with her boss? How tacky was that? And how could she ever look at him at the office again without imagining that great butt?
Stop it. She didn't want to think.
Not tonight.
Heaven knew there'd be plenty of time for thinking and torturing herself later.
For the moment, she only wanted to enjoy what she was feeling.
Icy cold trickled onto her breasts and her eyes flew open.
She looked up, directly into Shane's eyes and her heart thudded in her chest.
"What're you … "
He drizzled a little more champagne onto her breasts, then set the bottle down onto the nightstand beside the bed. Climbing in beside her, he said only, "I was thirsty."
Then he bent his head to take first one of her nipples, then the other, into his mouth. His tongue twirled around and around the rigid, sensitive peaks and Rachel groaned as he suckled her. Her fingers curled into the sheet beneath her and she held on tight as her world rocked crazily from side to side.
He lapped at her, nibbled her flesh with the edges of his teeth and then suckled her again. She felt each drawing tug of his mouth straight to the heart of her.
Her body lit up again and when he lifted his head, she wanted to weep for the loss of his mouth. She drew in a deep gulp of air and blew it out again in a
rush.
"Still thirsty," he quipped and grabbed the bottle. Carefully, he poured the frothy wine atop her breasts, down her rib cage and let it pool in her belly button.
Rachel shivered, but not because the champagne was so cold. No, she was only surprised it didn't boil on contact with her skin. "Shane … "
"And a sip for you," he said, lifting her head from the bed and holding her as he tipped the mouth of the bottle to her lips. She took a long drink, easing the dryness in her mouth before she raised up and kissed him. She tasted him, the wine and passion.
And she wanted more.
"Are you ready?" he asked, easing her down and setting the bottle back on the table.
"Oh, I think so," she said, reaching for him.
He shook his head, caught her hands in his and said, "Then find something to hold onto."
He lowered his head to her breasts again and Rachel took his advice. Reaching back, she grabbed hold of the headboard and clung to it like a life rope tossed into a stormy sea. He sucked at her nipples, then moved down, licking the champagne off her skin as he went. Across her ribs, down over her abdomen and into the tiny pool of wine in her belly button.
She sucked in air, groaned out his name and held on even tighter. Her skin was on fire. Heat coiled inside and threatened to burst free. She felt every single nerve ending alive and hopping and oh, she hoped it never stopped.
He shifted position, moving to kneel between her legs, and Rachel smiled, eager for him to enter her again. Eager to feel the race to completion crowding in on her one more time.
But he had another surprise for her. Scooping his hands beneath her bottom, he lifted her hips off the bed and smiled at her.
Her stomach did a quick somersault.
"Shane-"
"Hang on tight, Rachel," he whispered deeply. "This ride's about to get bumpy."
Chapter 5
His mouth covered her and Rachel groaned, his name sliding from her throat on a whisper of wonder. She watched him take her, couldn't look away. She concentrated on the feel of his hands on her behind, the lush sensation of his mouth, the hush of his breath.
Outside, the wind tossed snow against the frosted windowpanes. But inside, she was half surprised not to see steam rising from the bed.
Again and again, his lips and tongue worked her flesh, firing her blood, fuzzing her brain. She couldn't think. Couldn't remember ever thinking.
She was simply a mass of sensation. Her nerves stretched to the breaking point and hovered there as the tension in her body built and screamed through her, demanding release. Demanding satisfaction. Demanding his body inside hers.
Now.
"Shane," she managed to croak despite the tightness in her throat. "I want-I need you in me. Please."