Coming In From the Cold(10)

He shrugged. "It's fine."

She moved to stand behind him. "I knew you shouldn't have carried that  fifty-pound bag." She put her hands onto his shoulder muscle, the heels  digging in. "Knots," she said.

"Christ," he said. "You're strong for a little person."

"Who are you calling little?" she asked, pressing her hands even further  into his deltoid. "I worked as a masseuse during college. Here, bend  this arm onto the table." She shifted him, then went back to work on his  shoulder.

"Holy … " The force of her touch was startling-all that power in a small  package. Her hands moved up to the back of his neck, and he dropped his  head forward. He could feel her body leaning against his, her stomach  grazing his back. Thank God for the big pine tabletop in front of him.  The tent he was raising in his jeans right now would probably be visible  from space.

And she was clearly hitting on him. That made things even harder, so to speak.

Willow's hands spent a moment or two on his other shoulder, before  working down his back, his traps, his lats. By the time she got down  low, to where his waist met his bottom, he was holding his breath, his  arousal complete. Her hands stilled, coming to rest lightly on his  waist. They both held their breath; it was so quiet. If he turned around  now, he would find her waiting for him.

Don't turn. Don't turn.



* * *



Willow watched him turn.

She hadn't reached for him-she made herself wait. And for a split  second, she thought he didn't feel what she felt, that he would sit  tight, facing the table. He could have, and it would have been an easy  way to say, "No, thank-you."

But just as she was processing her disappointment, his broad shoulders  swiveled, and he rotated on the bar stool, catching her hands in his,  pulling her in. His lips claimed hers, and she watched his long lashes  fall closed, felt his breath on her face. As he tightened her body  against his chest, controlling the kiss, she felt his arousal, the  swollen shaft pressing against her belly.

His mouth tasted of orange juice and longing.





Six





Heaven help him, but this girl was like kryptonite on his willpower.

Dane couldn't resist her mouth, his tongue making long draws on hers.  Her hips fit into his hands, the fabric of the bathrobe thin enough that  he could feel his fingers digging into her skin. He braced her body  against his, her full breasts pressing against his chest.

She moaned very softly from the back of her throat, and the sound made  his balls throb. Scooping his hands under her bottom, he pulled her up  onto his knees, so that she straddled him on the stool. He fumbled for  the knot on her bathrobe, giving the loose end one good yank. It fell  open. God almighty, she was naked underneath.

Just once more, he reminded himself. And then you will walk away.

Their kisses heating up, he took both her breasts in her hands, all the  while his cock punched against his jeans. He could take her right there  on the bar stool. But Willow made him feel greedy in about a hundred  different ways, and he'd get only this one chance with her. Dane wanted  to lay her out and see every inch. "Willow," he said, his voice thick.  "I want you in your bed."

Her teeth nipped his neck while she wrapped her legs carefully around him. "Then take me there."

He braced her in his arms and headed for the back of the house. The feel  of her cradled against his chest was so foreign-and so intimate-that he  didn't ever want to put her down. This must be what it felt like to  belong to someone, to move together through the world.

Hello, asshole?

Where were all these pointless ideas coming from? Clearly Dane needed to fuck a little more and think a little less.

He carried her through a dark dining room. Beyond it lay a sliver of  daylight. As Dane approached, he saw the quilted end of a bed. With four  more strides he was there, depositing her gently on its surface,  spilling open her robe, exposing her body to his eyes. She didn't cover  herself. Instead, she watched his face as his gaze devoured her.

Dane pulled off his T-shirt, then dropped his jeans and his briefs in  one motion. He knelt down beside her on the bed. He feasted on the sight  of her at close range-those mounded breasts with rosy-pink nipples,  feminine curves at her hips. Sliding onto the bed, he spread himself out  on her body, covering her, touching every inch at once. She was smaller  and softer than the ski team Amazons he usually consorted with. He  smoothed her hair onto the sheet, dropping kisses into the curve of her  neck.                       
       
           



       

He felt her hands reach around him, kneading and smoothing the muscles  of his back. Then Willow's surprisingly strong hands moved down to grasp  the muscles in his ass, stroking and rubbing him, her fingertips  dropping to graze his balls until he groaned. His hips twitched with  longing, but it was just dawning on him that he had a problem. "I want  you so bad," he said, laying his hard shaft between her legs. "But I  don't have another condom."

Willow looked up at him, cupping her hands to the back of his head,  entangling her fingers in his hair. Then she bent her knees, squeezing  his hips with her legs. "Kiss me," she gasped. And when he covered her  mouth with his, she stroked him with her tongue, her hands braced  against his back. He was so aroused, he thought he might just combust if  she kept kissing him that way.

She broke off, saying, "I'm on the pill."

Dane closed his eyes and tried to think. Between her parted legs, he was  all too conscious of the wetness there, slicking the base of his cock  with her desire.

But rules were rules.

He shook his head. "I never go without a condom. I won't even use a  different brand." Then he kissed her, his lips biting and tasting her  lower lip.

It sure as hell wasn't personal.

Willow gave the most erotic sigh he had ever heard. "Well, there are many other lovely ways I can make you happy."

Dane slid down her body, his tongue on her neck, her breast. "I like the sound of that."

But first, he wanted to taste her.

He dragged his lips down to her hip bone, where his tongue did a lazy  stroke. Then he slid his palm onto the sweet mound between her legs, and  she whimpered, her thighs falling open to him.

Dane chuckled at the wanton pleasure of it all. Most mornings, he was at  the gym, beating his muscles into submission or strapping on his slalom  skis for three hours of drills. But in broad daylight he lay in this  white bed, his face on the velvety skin of a beautiful woman. Maybe he  could make her shout his name. At a slow pace designed to tease, he  dragged his hand down, thumb sliding slyly into her folds, where the  moisture waited.

She moaned, long and low.

He spread her legs gently, his mouth landing on her inner thigh. His  lips spread wide, he sucked on her skin. With his thumb, he did a slow  circle around her clit. Willow groaned, gripping the bed sheet with both  hands.

Taking his sweet time, Dane nosed into her blond curls, and he felt her  body contract with expectation. Then he slid two fingers inside her,  while his tongue swept across her swollen sex.

She was panting now, her fingers reaching for him, brushing his ears,  his shoulders, whatever she could reach. He flattened his tongue onto  her, his fingers thrusting inside. She rolled her hips up to meet him,  giving herself over to her desire. Every little noise she made, every  whimper, every breath, turned him on. He wanted so badly to be a part of  her, to bury himself inside her and never come out again. Dane heard  himself groan with frustration.

"Please," she whispered. "Please."

Later, he would remember that her pleading was nonspecific. The request  could have meant anything. But she was speaking to him, asking him for  more. And he'd never wanted to give himself to anyone so badly in his  life. The lure of the full experience-the beautiful girl, and the luxury  of a morning in her kitchen, and then in her arms-was more than he  could withstand. And then he was in motion, climbing her on sheer  adrenaline. Hiking himself up onto her chest, with a single thrust he  pushed his cock deep inside.

And holy …  he caught his breath.

At once, his miscalculation was all too obvious. For a man whose goal in  life was to feel almost nothing, he'd just thrust himself into  heart-stopping moment. The wet velvet feel of her against his naked skin  was so overwhelming that he froze, stilling himself, his face in her  hair.

Willow whimpered again, her arousal taking over. Her hips rocked beneath  him, and the sensation nearly shot him through the roof. Wet and warm,  her body cradled him, held him, and it was like nothing he'd ever felt  before.

He heard his own growling moan. He thrust his hips once, twice, the  sensation knocking him to near oblivion. His own body was like a foreign  country, driven by an unfamiliar yearning he didn't know he owned.  Every inch of him was hypersensitive. He could feel the friction of her  breasts against his chest, even her hands on his back seemed to burn him  up. It was too much, and he felt himself breaking. He tensed for it-for  the familiar sensation of climax. But that isn't what happened. It was  something else, and it took Dane a moment to figure out what.