“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “I’m sticking with low-key relationships.”
“So you’ll at least concede that what we’re doing here is a relationship,” he said.
She stared at him. “Maybe. But it’s not love, and it’s not going to be.”
He stared back, not sure how to argue that one.
“Is it enough for you?” she asked softly.
No. Hell, no. But because that made him feel like he’d just been hit by an M-60, he didn’t answer. Instead he pulled her close and did what they seemed to do best. He kissed her. He kissed her long and deep, doing his best to silence that little voice in his head that kept saying the right thing to do here was walk away…
But for the first time in his life he didn’t know if he could do the right thing, not even to save himself.
Callie couldn’t get enough of Tanner’s mouth or his hands and especially couldn’t get enough of his low groan of frustration just before he wrenched her sweatshirt over her head, taking her PJ top with it. Her bottoms went next, PJs, sweats, and panties all yanked down her legs in one hard tug. When she was bare-ass naked, he leaned over her and smiled a very naughty, very determined smile. Then his teeth closed over her nipple and a hand slid between her legs, and she gasped.
“Cold!” she said of his chilled fingers as they shifted, stroking the bare skin of her back now, sliding down to cup and squeeze her bottom, pulling her in against his wet self.
She sucked in a breath but couldn’t deny she was thrillingly aroused. Being naked against his fully clothed, unyielding body was incredibly erotic, and she clung to him as if he were her next breath of air, winding her fingers through his hair, forgetting about everything but this.
“Shower,” he said against her mouth. “I’ve made you cold, let’s go warm you up.”
Before she could say a word he stood, taking her with him. In the bathroom, he let her slide slowly down his body, eyes hot as he once again took charge, starting the shower, kicking off his shoes.
When he caught her staring, his eyes darkened even more and he yanked her into him while they waited for the water to heat. “What?” he murmured.
“I just like to look at you.”
“Right back at you, babe.”
She smiled, continuing to gaze up at him, memorizing each line on his face because this was going to be it. She knew that she couldn’t keep doing this and not lose her heart. God, she loved the way he looked at her, his gaze so fierce and intense, like she was the only woman for him. She loved the way his mouth twitched when he wanted to smile but was trying not to. And she especially loved the way his voice got all low and husky whenever he said her name.
She didn’t need to feel his body against her, hard, strong, rippling with power, to remember how much she loved it.
Or how she felt in his arms. Feminine. Desired.
Important…
The steam from the shower filled the bathroom and she moved to unzip his Lucky Harbor Charters wind jacket. Before she could push it off his shoulders, he reached into the pocket, pulled out two condoms, and tossed them onto the bathroom counter.
Then his jacket hit the floor. She peeled his wet running shirt upward, her fingers tracing his abs, his pecs, every inch that she revealed until she couldn’t reach any farther and he took over, tossing the shirt aside.
His pants were the next thing to go as he stripped in quick, economical movements, exposing his mouth-watering body to her in all its glory.
And there was a lot of glory.
He tipped her head up and then his mouth came down over hers, his tongue flicking out, tracing her bottom lip, seeking entrance and getting it when she gasped in pleasure.
His hands slid down her back and over the cheeks of her ass, lifting her off the ground and firmly into him. “Still cold?” he asked.
No. She was burning up. She could feel every single inch of his very hot body. He was hard and thick against her, straining between them ready for action, and she was just as ready. Hell, she’d been ready since the moment he’d walked through her door. “Not cold,” she said, and his lips curved against hers.
“What are you then?” he asked.
“Desperate.”
“How desperate?”
“Terrifyingly desperate.”
He lifted his head, stared into her eyes, and then stepped into the shower with her. The hot water hit her and only fueled the fire. Pushing him to the back wall, she plastered her body against his, rubbing against him, tasting every inch she could reach. It wasn’t enough so she dropped to her knees and continued her very important work of licking and nibbling.
The sound of his approving groan bounced off the walls as she ran her tongue along the length of him and then sucked him into her mouth. As the water hit them she kept the pace tortuously slow and controlled, much as he’d done with her so many times now, quivering with anticipation for the moment when he’d lose his composure, thread his fingers into her hair, grab a fistful, and take over.