She peeled off her hoodie, hung it on a peg, then grabbed his jacket, yanked it off his shoulders as she pulled herself in, as she fixed her mouth on his.
His brain didn’t explode out of the top of his head, but it sure as hell banged around in there.
“That’s how it works,” she said as she tugged his jacket off, hung it up.
“Yeah, it’s coming back to me.” He grabbed her hand, pulled her along with him. “I don’t want to do this in the laundry room, or on the kitchen floor. And they’re both looking pretty good to me right now.”
With a laugh, she spun into him, took his mouth again as she flipped open buttons on his shirt. “No reason not to get started on the way.”
“That’s a point.” She wore a soft blue pullover, or did until he yanked it up and off, tossed it behind them as they arrowed toward the stairs.
She pulled at his belt; he dragged at the skinny white tank she wore under the pullover. And both of them tripped on the base of the stairs.
They teetered, groped.
“Maybe we’d better get up there,” she managed.
“Good idea.” He grabbed her hand again.
They raced up—like a couple of kids, he’d think later, running toward the big, shiny gift under the Christmas tree. Except most kids didn’t try to rip each other’s clothes off while they ran.
Out of breath, he finally stripped off her white tank as they hurtled into the bedroom.
“Oh God, look at you.”
“Look later.” She slid his belt free, let it fall to the floor with a clunk.
He knew they couldn’t dive into the bed, not literally, but he figured they came pretty damn close. He forgot about moves, timing, technique. He sure as hell forgot finesse. But she didn’t seem to mind.
He wanted those soft, pretty breasts in his hands—the femininity of the shape, the smoothness of skin. He wanted his mouth on them—the leap of her heart against his lips and tongue, the grip of her hand in his hair as she pressed him against her.
As her body bowed up to his like an offering.
He gorged himself on the scent of her, that goddess-of-the-sea scent that brought mermaids and sirens to his mind. That sleek, sculpted body vibrated with energy, infused his own.
As they rolled over the bed, grasping, groaning, he felt he could do anything, be anything, have anything.
She yearned. She ached. Everything felt frantic, fast, fabulous. His hands on her body, hers on his. She knew the lines of him, the shape, but now she could take, now she could feel—not to soothe or comfort, but to ignite.
She wanted to fire him, and have the blaze consume them both.
All the needs, good, strong, healthy needs, she’d locked away broke free in a crazed stampede that trampled any thought of restraint or caution.
She couldn’t get enough, ravaged his mouth in her quest to feed and fill. But the hunger only grew keener, like a blade whetted on a speeding wheel. She all but clawed her way on top of him to sink her teeth into his shoulder, lost her breath as he flipped her back again and found her white-hot center with his fingers.
The orgasm ripped through her, a glorious shock. Dazzled and drugged with it, she groped for him.
“God. God. Please. Now.”
Thank you, Jesus, he thought, because it had to be now. When he drove himself into her, the earth didn’t simply move. It quaked.
The world shook; the air thundered. And his body lit up, then erupted with triumph and pleasure, with a desperate, dizzying demand for more.
She clung to him, arms and legs locked in the wild ride full of sound and speed. Fast, rhythmic slaps of flesh to heat-slicked flesh, the crazed creak of the bed, the pants of labored breath overrode the lazy beat of the sea to shore whispering at the windows.
He felt himself fall away, just fall away into that whirl of sound, into the rush, into the stupefying pleasure.
Into her.
He’d have sworn he flew, too far, too high, into a moment of exquisite pain, before he just emptied.
They didn’t move. It had gone dark sometime during the race to the bedroom and the sprint to the finish line, but he wasn’t entirely sure he hadn’t been struck blind.
Better to stay just as he was for the time being. Besides, the sensation of her body beneath his, sleek and toned and absolutely still, felt so damn good. Though she’d gone lax, her heart continued to rage against his. The rapid beat made him feel like a god.
“And I wasn’t sure I’d pull it off.”
“Oh, you pulled it way off. I may never get it on again.”
He blinked. “Did I say that out loud?”
The laugh rumbled in her throat. “I won’t hold it against you. I wasn’t sure either of us would pull it off. I feel like I must be glowing. I can’t understand why I’m not illuminating the whole room like a torch.”