She really needed to get out more.
His hand paused. “I’m starting to feel like a purchased stud here. Did you want to see my papers first?”
“You have papers?” At his look, she sighed and crawled to her knees. With one hand on either side of his face, she kissed him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that as an insult. I’m nervous.”
He nuzzled into her neck. “I know.” More quietly he added, “We’ll figure that out.”
She didn’t want to know what his idea of “that” was. It didn’t matter though, because he pulled away and stood, pushing his jeans to the ground as he did. And suddenly, the idea of calling him a stud seemed applicable all over again. She swallowed once and took her time drinking in the full effect of Redford Callahan, completely naked, and totally erect, right in front of her.
“Yeah. I think I can work with that.”
He snorted and gripped the base of his cock. “Well good, because I didn’t bring a spare.” He crawled over until she was flat on her back, the thick flesh pressing against her hip, so hot she would swear it was a brand.
“I’m done waiting, Peyton.”
Waiting. Tonight? Or longer than that. How long had he wanted to get her like this? And no, she scolded herself. Going down that road was too high school, even for her. They were here now, so live in the moment.
He kissed her then, and her mind blanked to anything but the two of them, as if the entire world outside their dingy motel room had melted away into nothingness. If only . . . Then he used his knees to push her legs wider apart, and one hand nudged between her thighs.
Oh, God, he knew exactly how she wanted it, where she wanted it. How to touch her, and when to pull back because it was almost too much. And right before she jumped off another peak, he pulled away entirely.
“What the . . . ? She lifted her head and found him digging through his overnight bag, ass in the air. “What are you doing?”
“Condom.”
Shit. “Right. Good.” She took the moment to study his backside, the only view she hadn’t had so far. And found herself smiling at the severe tan line that separated his back from his butt. The man, if he didn’t get sun, would be pale white. But clearly he worked with his shirt off enough to at least keep some color. For some reason, that pale butt made her want to laugh. But she bit her lip, determined not to ruin the moment.
She must not have hid it well though. He turned around and tilted his head to the side. “What?”
Peyton shook her head. “Nothing.” She reached for him then, and he came over her, settled between her legs, and his cock nudged against her.
Red’s lips rested against her neck, not moving, not pressing. Just a silent reminder he was still with her. That heartbreaking piece of contact had tears pricking her eyes. But she blinked furiously at the ceiling until the moment passed. And as he slid inside her, fully and completely, tenderness was the last thing on her mind.
He rose up on his forearms and grinned down at her. “I’d apologize for how fast this is going to be, but you’re already one up. And I’ve wanted you longer than I’m willing to admit. So I think I’m entitled to break a few speed records.” He kissed her, erasing her surprise at hearing him admit that bit of information, and slid out before thrusting back in. Finding a rhythm that set them both on fire . . . the right sort of flame this time.
Gripping his shoulders, she stretched up to meet his every pulse, to work with him, stay with him, just keep up. And when she felt his muscles stiffen beneath her fingers, it was time to give them both a little nudge. Reaching down between them, she touched herself.
“Oh, Jesus,” he muttered, the backs of her fingers bumping against his lower abdomen with every push. “Tell me you’re close.”
No need to answer, as she tightened around him, fluttering with a release she couldn’t have held back for anything. And though he might have arched back with his own orgasm, she selfishly grabbed his neck and pulled him down for a kiss instead. Wanting to drown her cries in his mouth. Taste what that level of desire was like, in that heated moment, melting together.
Minutes later, Red pushed up and headed for the bathroom. She indulged herself with one more good look at his butt before it disappeared behind the dividing wall, then she laughed to herself. When had she ever honestly checked out a man’s ass before? She was as bad as her teenage summer ranch workers.
But as the seconds passed, the amusement faded and uncertainty crept in, invading the cocoon of pleasure she’d been so comfortably wrapped in. Was she supposed to head to her own bed now? Wait for him in his bed? Go pose provocatively by the table? Pretend that she was asleep and let him choose?