Orgasm blasted through her body suddenly, gripping around Gentry's finger in fast, hard pulses of pleasure. She grasped the back of his neck hard, digging her nails in as she whimpered his name.
Gentry pushed her forward fast, his hands strong and capable on her body, and before she knew it, she was bent over, legs locked and spread, hands splayed on the stone surface at knee-height in front of the fireplace. Behind her, the jingle of a belt sounded, directly followed by the quick snap of a button and rip of a zipper. Her orgasm pulsed on, even without his finger inside of her.
"Fuck," he muttered in a snarly voice. "You're not ready for this. Hell, I'm not ready. Blaire, you need to leave."
She should. She should've left before they had any intimacy, but she hadn't, and now she was in this, so worked up it was consuming her. "Are you going to take care of yourself when I'm gone?" She looked over her shoulder at him.
"Yeah," he answered gruffly. Gentry's sweater was off, and his chiseled chest heaved with breath. His body was scarred, but tanned and smooth between what looked like slashes across his torso. His six-pack flexed with every breath, and his jeans were pushed gloriously low. The deep V of muscle led directly to his thick erection, swollen and ready. A wave of want took her, which was insane because she was still coming from what he'd done to her.
His eyes were such a bright green right now. He was beautiful. A beautiful, scarred-up creature who was clearly dangerous, but who made her feel completely at ease somehow. "Can I watch?" Heat flushed her cheeks at her brash question. "I-I've never watched, you know … before."
Gentry's blond brows winged up as he rested his hands on his hips. "You want to watch me get off." It wasn't a question but a semi-confused statement instead.
Mortified, Blaire stood suddenly and strode for the door. "Forget it. It was silly. I don't know what I'm talking about."
Her fingertips brushed the door handle, but she was spun around before she could wrench it open. Gentry's hand went around the back of her neck, and he pulled her to him. He leaned in fast. The second his lips touched hers, the fire in her body jacked up to magma-level heat. It was one part pain and two parts pleasure as she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him back. His lips moved against hers so skillfully she didn't have time for first-kiss jitters. She hadn't kissed anyone but her ex-husband since she was sixteen, but good grief, Gentry Striker was making this ridiculously easy on her. He was the leader, the aggressor. His hand clenched in her hair, and he turned her head where he wanted it, angled his face as his lips moved against hers. The man could kiss. Blaire stood there stunned at what was happening, at the insane reaction her body was having to him. He pulled away far enough to ease his jeans down his hips, and his bright white smile was nothing shy of wicked. And those dang eyes looked a completely different shade of green now. They were like the clearest ocean green, but with an inner glow that was striking in the soft light.
She reached for his shaft, but he shook his head slowly. "You said you wanted to watch. You want to help?" He flicked his gaze to her crotch, then back to her. "Let me watch you, too."
Oh, he looked like a bad boy right now. He locked one arm beside her head and pulled a slow stroke of his erection, eyes daring her to look down.
"But … the lights are on," she murmured.
His smile turned devilish in an instant. "Do you only touch yourself in the dark, Trouble?"
"Uh, yes. Doesn't everyone?"
He chuckled a deep, dark sound and leaned forward, sucked her neck hard. "No," he said against her neck before he eased back and pulled two more smooth strokes of his dick. "There's no shame in touching yourself."
Gentry was sexy as frick right now, pardon her French. He was dang near hypnotizing her with the way the head of his swollen cock pressed through the fist he made. He would feel so good inside of her. So big. Gosh, why did she feel so wild with him? This wasn't like her to fool around with a guy she had no chance at something long term with, but here she was, feeling utterly reckless and wanting everything from him before he closed down on her. And he would. He would close down tomorrow because that's what men did. But tonight, she wanted to shed her good girl cloak and be rebellious for once in her life.
With a squeak, she closed her eyes and slid her hand down the front of her pants.
"Eyes open, Trouble, or you'll miss it. You wanted the end, right? You want to watch me finish. You want to see the end because you pretend you're a clean girl, but deep down you like the mess."
Her cheeks burned as she pushed her finger into herself, but she did ease her eyes open.
"Stop making that face. Feels good to me, feels good to you. I think you look sexy as fuck taking care of yourself. You're teaching me the pace you like. Put on a good show so I know how to take care of you. Ffffuck," he said on a breath as his hips bucked.
Beside her, his hand made a fist against the door and his arm shook. He was trying to keep it together, trying to make her feel safe in this moment they were sharing, but it was getting him off. Sexy man.
His bicep flexed as he slid his hand up and down his shaft faster. He was right. There was no shame in them spending this moment together. They were both consenting adults, and he wasn't making her feel weird about this, so why should she? Plus, watching him do this was a huge turn-on. Maybe it was the sexiest thing she'd ever been a part of, and she didn't want to waste precious seconds of it on shame.
Blaire gripped his arm next to her face and rocked her head back as she matched his pace. There was something so intimate about doing this with Gentry, completely vulnerable, eyes locked on each other's, breath racing, connected in ways she didn't understand but didn't want to question right now.
"Fuck," he huffed out, pressing his forehead against hers. "I want to be inside of you so bad right now."
Okay. She shoved one side of her pants down, but he gripped her wrist and stopped her. "Don't, or I won't be able to stop myself. We can't do that. I'm not even supposed to kiss you."
"Wait, what?" she asked, trying to clear the fog from her mind. Not allowed to kiss her?
He grunted and shoved her shirt upward, exposing her breasts, and now the fog was back in her head but thicker.
"Watch," he growled out.
Blaire looked down in time to see him push into his hand, hips bucking and twitching, as creamy warmth streamed from the head of his cock and painted her stomach. He reared back and pushed into his fist again, and there was more warmth, and then more and more.
Between the focused look on his face as he stared hungrily at her breasts, and the way he was emptying himself onto her belly, this was the most erotic thing she'd ever witnessed.
It was so mind-numbingly hot, she had completely forgotten about taking care of herself, but Gentry pulled her hand away and then slid his hand into her panties again and pushed two fingers into her this time. He was slow and steady until he had her writhing against him. His lips pressed against hers, and he swallowed her moans as she came again.
Gentry smiled against her lips, and though she couldn't see it, only feel it, Blaire knew without a shadow of a doubt it was a cocky, wicked grin that would probably melt her panties all over again. With a spent sigh, she pushed her shirt down to her hips and sagged against him. Right about now, she felt like a noodle. A part of her expected Gentry to bolt, or push her out the door immediately. Matt wasn't a cuddler and escaped her as fast as possible after sex, but Gentry didn't seem to mind staying here in the moment. He held her so tenderly she didn't understand.
Slowly, she slid her arms around his shoulders and just stood there in his warm embrace, frowning at the flames in the hearth behind him and wondering if this was for real. Wondering if she hadn't just dreamed all of this.
Gentry, this almost-stranger, had just given her the single most beautiful and intimate experience, and now this rough-and-tumble, scarred-up, bright-eyed, bar-fighting, snarly man was holding her like she was as fragile as dandelion fluff. And was that his lips against the top of her head? She repaid him in kind by pressing a gentle kiss against the tripping pulse in his throat. His heart was pounding fast when she pressed her palm over the left side of his chest. She smiled and eased back so she could see his eyes, but he had them averted. And from this angle, they looked odd. Too bright, and his face was twisted up in a wild look she didn't understand. Perhaps it was a trick of the sconce lighting and flickering flames.
Gentry pulled her away from the door enough to open it, and oh, here was the sendoff. Disappointment unfurled in Blaire's chest. It had all been so beautiful while it lasted. He guided her with a gentle touch on her lower back. She half-expected him to say goodnight and go back in before she got off the porch, but he shocked her when he walked her silently the entire way to her cabin across the snowy parking lot. She was freezing again, on account of the blanket that was still sitting in the middle of his great room, the wetness on her stomach, and the frigid temperature, but he seemed perfectly at ease without a shirt on. His perfect little nipples weren't even perked up.