Slap Shot(55)

My fingers slipped down and curled into his T-shirt and as we kissed slowly his chest created a friction on my nipples with each indrawn breath I took. Through my clothes my breasts tightened and the horror of the morning faded, reduced in size until it was as distant as a far-away galaxy. I couldn’t let Laurie be here with us now. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.

He pressed forward, tempting me with the steely bulge in his jeans as it rubbed against my inner thigh. An urgency to feel flesh on flesh grew within me. “Rick,” I whispered.

“Yes, babe?”

“Make love to me.”

“That’s what I want to do more than anything in the world.” He kissed across my cheek and down my neck. “But I don’t think you’re up to it after this morning. You need to rest. I probably shouldn’t even be doing this to you.”

I twisted my head, giving him better access to the spot that was hot-wired to my pussy. “I’m okay, I feel so much better now. I just want to be as near to you as possible, I need us to be joined, be in your arms.”

“But you were so pale, so weak?” he whispered, his breaths warm and thick on my skin. “I was so worried about you.”

“I’m fine now, really. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

His big body resting over mine, the heat pouring from him into me and his smell, his taste—it was everything I ever needed. I was more than fine. “Yes.” I squirmed into him, my lower legs curling behind his knees and clamping him closer. “I’m sure.”

He groaned, a deep rumble of a sound that sent goose bumps of pleasure rippling over my skin. “It’s what I want to do, so badly. I need to prove to myself that you’re okay, that you’re here with me, alive, and that you’re mine.” He raised his head and looked down at me, his eyes stormy with desire. “Dana, tell me that you’re mine.”

“Yes, yes, I’m yours,” I said, tugging his T-shirt from the waistband of his jeans. “Only yours, Rick, only yours.” I glided my palms over the rigid tendons and muscles of his lower back, delighting in the smooth acres of warm flesh. Dipping beneath the waistband of his jeans, I skimmed my fingertips over the first rise of his damn fine buttocks.

He suddenly sat back on his heels, forcing me to slip my fingers out of his jeans. He fisted his T-shirt behind his shoulder blades and dragged it off. It landed on the floor with a soft whump. I copied him, tugging at my sweater and arching my back. He helped me ease it over my head, then it too was discarded.

“We’re gonna do this real slow,” he said, his eyes roving to my breasts encased in a pale pink satin bra. “I’m not having your breathing go all funny again.”

“My breathing is just fine,” I said, although I got the feeling it wouldn’t be in another few minutes, not if he kept looking at me which such an expression of dark, carnal desire.

“I’m being serious,” he said gruffly, reaching his wallet from his back pocket. “No funny business, Dana, just real slow and calm.” He plucked out a purple wrapped condom.

“You’re the one who always starts the funny business,” I said with a cheeky twitch of my brows.

One side of his mouth tilted in a warm, sexy smile then his heavy gaze trailed to my breasts again.

I’d flattened my palm over my sternum and was rubbing a slow circle. When I spotted his gaze I peeked the tips of my fingers under my bra, just far enough to rub over my nipple.

His jaw tensed.

I sucked in a breath that hitched my breasts upward and slipped my hand in farther so I was holding the entire breast. I squeezed gently, my nipple jabbed into my palm and I gave a small sigh and fluttered shut my eyes.

Aware of him twisting the front clasp of my bra, I continued to touch my soft, rounded flesh. The bra relaxed, releasing my breasts and I scooped the other up and began a combination of massage and nipple tweaking, thoroughly enjoying the act of touching myself while he watched.

“You have amazing breasts,” he murmured.

“Thanks.” I opened my eyes. His chest was rising and falling in long, deep breaths. His hands were balled into fists and rested on his thick thighs.

“Is that how you like to be touched?”

“Mmm, yes.”

“Does it feel nice?”

“Nicer when you do it,” I said, smiling gently up at him.

He shoved his hand through his hair and it flopped down messily as he reached for the waistband of my sweats. “Lose these,” he said.

I lifted and allowed him to tug them completely off.

“Pretty panties,” he said, sliding them down and looping them over my feet.