Country Roads(92)

“No.” His voice grated harshly. “If you touch me again, I won’t last. Lie back.”

She lowered herself onto the metal, squirming slightly as her heated skin touched its cool surface.

He slid his hands under her bottom, easing her closer to him. Then he stepped between her thighs, the denim of his jeans brushing her inner thighs. She gasped as the touch sent her nerve endings pirouetting along the edge between pleasure and overload.

He locked his thumbs around her hips, lifting her, and then in one stroke he was inside her. She felt the scuff of his jeans on her skin, the curl of his fingers into her behind, and the pressure of his cock pushing deep within her. “Oh yes,” she said. “Oh yes.”

He pulled back and thrust into her again, his breathing harsh, his grip turning to iron. “Sweetheart, I can’t hold on any longer.”

“Don’t hold on.” She pulsed her hips against him. “Let go. Take me with you.”

The sound that came from him was primal. He yanked her right to the edge of the hood, lifting her hips so he could drive even more deeply into her. As his rhythm quickened, her body shifted from satiety to wanting again. She could feel the fist of arousal squeezing tighter and tighter inside her, until he ground his hips against her and she convulsed around him, screaming his name.

She took him over the edge with her. She felt the pump of his climax and heard her own name echo against the walls of the garage as he shouted it.

For a long moment, he stood like that, holding her lifted against him as his erection softened and the aftershocks trembled through her. Then he slipped out of her and lowered her hips so her knees hung over the hood and her heels grazed the bumper.

He blew out a long breath and brought his gaze to hers. His eyes glinted in the dim light with some emotion she couldn’t read. He bent at the waist and laid his forearms on either side of her, bringing his forehead down to rest on her shoulder. “Julia.” His voice vibrated into her bones.

“Yes?”

“Just Julia. There’s no room for anything else right now.”

She lay still, listening to Paul’s breathing slow, a delicious lassitude wrapping itself around her body. Her heart was singing at his words. If this didn’t make him ask her to stay, nothing would.

Her stomach growled so loudly she jumped.

Paul lifted his head. “When was the last time you ate?”

Julia thought back but couldn’t remember any meal after the corn muffin she’d had for breakfast. “This morning?”

He stood and pulled her up to a sitting position. She put her hand to her head as a wave of dizziness swept over her.

“Let’s get you fed before you faint on me,” Paul said, concern shadowing his face. He gathered their clothes in one hand before he swept her off the car and against his side with the other.

He swung open the interior door and walked her through it. Embarrassment flared as her dizziness faded. “You can let go. It was just sitting up so suddenly that made me woozy.”

He loosened his hold and watched her carefully before he nodded. “You can use the downstairs bathroom to wash up while I rustle up something to eat. It’s through the hall on the right.” He held out her clothing.

Julia followed his directions, closing the door and pulling on her clothes. As she turned to the sink, she caught sight of herself in the mirror and shrieked.

Paul must have sprinted because he was at the door almost immediately. “What is it? I’m coming in.” He eased the door open.

“My hair!” she wailed, holding up the mass of red tangles in both fists. “Please tell me you have a brush.”

He braced his hand on the doorjamb and leaned his forehead against it. “You scared the bejesus out of me.”

“Sorry, but it will take me hours to undo this.” She tried to work her fingers through a snarl but it refused to budge.

“In that case, we’ll work on it later. Together.”

“I don’t want you having to look at this across the dinner table,” Julia said. “It’ll give you indigestion.”

“Sweetheart, you give me indigestion in so many other ways. Your hair is the least of my worries.” A smile glinted in his eyes. “Try not to look in the mirror while you’re washing so I don’t have another heart attack.” He gave her an affectionate pat on the behind before he turned and left, closing the door behind him.

A few minutes later, Julia was perched on a high stool at the kitchen counter, nibbling on cheese and chopping three colors of peppers for some Italian concoction Paul was whipping up. “I had no idea you were a gourmet cook,” she said.

“It’s that or eat out every night.”