Sweet Carolina(26)
“Caro,” he said.
“Dell.” She didn't move away, but she didn't move any closer either.
“Are you going to stop me?” he asked. His heart lodged in his throat as he waited for her answer. If she didn't want him to touch her, he wouldn't, but damn, he didn't understand how she could deny what was so obviously between them.
“We shouldn't,” she said on a whisper.
“Who's to know, Caro?” He traced her jaw with his index finger and she trembled from just that tiny contact.
“We would,” she said, but she still made no move away from his touch. He slipped his hand to her neck, letting his fingers curve around to her nape, and still, she didn't move away.
He dipped his head so his lips hovered over hers. “I won't tell.” Then he kissed her. Her lips were soft under his, warm and damp from where her tongue touched them a breath ago. He brought his other hand up to cradle her face as he drank her in. God, she tasted sweet.
He needed more.
Chapter Eight
She needed more. Even as she inwardly called herself all manner of names, she craved more. His thumbs pressed against her jaw, urging her to open for him. She groaned, pressed herself against him and let him in. He thrust his tongue past her lips and plundered. Her head spun as he took her on a wild ride that left her body achingly unsatisfied.
Caro silently begged for more, wrapping her arms around his neck and answering his kiss with all the passion coiled inside her. When his hand drifted to her waist, a desperation she'd never experienced took hold of her. She covered his hand with hers and guided his fingers beneath the waistband of her jeans. Their fingers tangled. His hand followed the zipper as it slid down and down, until he found her aching nub.
Her heart slammed against her ribcage and liquid heat pooled between her legs. She broke the kiss, gasping for breath. Still cradling the back of her head, Dell pressed her cheek against his chest and continued to explore between her legs. A single warning thought flashed, and like dry tinder, was devoured by the fire in her belly.
Dell's fingers dipped lower and she shifted to give him the room he needed. One finger slipped inside her, followed by another. The flames licked higher, threatening to consume her. A sound, a whimper, escaped her lips. Strong fingers stroked her head, soothing, calming. His words rumbled like a distant storm beneath the layers of his fire suit.
“Shh, sweetheart. Let go, Caro. I've got you.”
He was dangerous, on and off the track. He drove like a demon with little regard to his or anyone else's safety, but in his arms, she was safe. Dell would always keep her safe.
Her legs became quivering, useless columns of gel, her only support the strong hand between her legs. Caro concentrated on the two pillars of steel impaling her, stroking some invisible spot that made her weak and energized her at the same time. Passion coiled tightly. Dell's voice vibrated against her cheek, her breasts, “Let go, sweetheart. I've got you.”
The tight spring within gave way, and she came apart in his arms. Inner muscles clenched around his fingers and her vocal chords failed to form coherent sounds. Her body was a mess of discordant muscles and useless bones. She clung to him, her arms still draped over his shoulders. Time stood still. He slipped his fingers from her body, his hand from her jeans, and with a tenderness that brought tears to her eyes, he backed her to a chair and urged her to sit. Her arms fell to her sides and she reached for him, but he backed away.
He was at the door before she found her voice.
“You're leaving?” she asked.
“Yeah, I am,” he said. “Before we turn rumor into fact.”
Caro shivered as the blast of warm dry air from outside mingled with the cooler air inside against her bare skin. She jumped up, wobbling on shaky legs and zipped her jeans. “Damn you, Dell Wayne,” she murmured to the closed door. “Damn you all to hell.”
* * * *
Dell fired the engine and listened to the familiar rumble. The caged power vibrated through him as he checked the gauges and waited for the race to begin. The thrill of competition sped through his system. He gripped the steering wheel with his left hand, the gearshift with his right, and tried to focus on the job at hand. He'd never been as distracted before a race as he was today. He'd never lain awake all night, remembering the feel of Caro Hawkins in his arms, or the taste of her lips, or the way her hot, wet heat clamped his fingers, or her face when she came. And the throaty whimper that accompanied her release.
Thankfully, he came to his senses before he let it go any further. It would have been so easy to take her. She wouldn't have said no, not the way she responded to him. But like she said, they had a business arrangement, and sex didn't figure into it.