A Moment in Time (36 page)

      
"I went crazy that first day," he breathed, shrugging out of his suspenders and shirt.

      
Remembering how he'd looked when she'd caught him naked at the waterfall, Jackie held her breath and opened his belt buckle, frantically working on the fly of his jeans.
 
"You didn't answer me."
 
She eased his jeans down over his slim hips, gently releasing his impressive erection.
 
Her insides turned molten in anticipation.
 
Heat radiated from his magnificent anatomy, spanning the distance between them.

      
"Answer...what?" he croaked, kicking off his boots and stepping out of his jeans.

      
"Are you a butt man?" she repeated, barely able to breathe, let alone speak coherently.
 
"Speaking of butts..."
 
Breathlessly, she kneaded the flesh of his bare buttocks, itching to bring her hands forward, to wrap them around his rock hard length.
 

      
He cradled her breasts in his hands, brushing his callused thumbs against their rigid peaks.
 
"Your butt is wonderful, ma'am," he whispered thickly, "but
these
beauties drive me loco."

      
"All of you drives me loco."
 
She bit her lower lip and allowed her hands to follow her burning desire slowly around his hips.
 
Pausing just shy of her goal, she massaged his groin with her thumbs, her hands trembling.

      
"Lord, woman."
 
He dipped his head and took her nipple into his mouth, grazing it with his teeth.

      
Fire kindled inside her, a liquid inferno created deep within her, sizzling until she wanted to scream.
 
Dying with need, Jackie eased both hands around his throbbing erection, stunned all over again by the size of him.
 
"Have mercy."
 
Great-Aunt Pearl would have fainted to hear her most frequently-used phrase voiced in this situation.
 
But it fit.
 
      
Oh, yes.
 
Jackie couldn't wait to discover just how well he fit.
 
Clarke, you're becoming a dirty old woman.
 
Glancing down at her hands wrapped around him in the moonlight, she sucked in a sharp breath.

      
"Now?" she asked, stroking the length of him.

      
A guttural growl erupted from deep in his chest and he swooped her into his arms, placing her on the waiting shawl. Hovering over her, he devoured her with his eyes, then lowered himself slowly to cover her nakedness with his own.

      
"Beauty, meet the Beast," he whispered.

* * *

      
Cole gazed down at her, feasting on the beauty spread out before him like a rare and precious gift.
 
Once more, he saw her nipples draw tight, reminding him she shared his eagerness.

      
From the moment he'd pulled her from the street that day back in Devil's Gulch, he had wanted her.
 
Craved her.
 
Hungered for her.
 

      
Her and only her.

      
This time, he was the one who trembled, overcome by the power of his desire for this strange woman with hair so red it rivaled the brightest cardinal.
 
Like Adam must have when he'd tasted the forbidden fruit, Cole smiled.

      
"What's so funny?"

      
"I'm not laughing."
 
He wanted to touch, to taste, to savor every perfect moment of this night.
 
He lowered his head and sampled one honeyed nipple, his lips gliding across it, followed by his tongue.
 

      
Her moan washed over him, compounding his own need.
 
He wanted to thrust himself into her, take her hot and fast and fierce.
 
But this was too perfect to rush, too wanted to waste.

      
He hungered to watch her need blossom into womanly ecstasy while he was buried deep inside her.
 
The only thing that could make this more perfect would be if the sun were shining and they were outside where he could see every detail, every expression, every curve and hollow of her slender body.

      
She buried her fingers in his hair as he teased and nibbled.
 
"Sweet," he whispered, drawing her nipple deeply into his mouth while he brushed the other peak with his thumb.

      
Another soft moan came from her lips and she gripped his shoulders, her nails digging into his bare flesh.
 
"Now, Cole," she whispered, panting.
 
"I can't...wait."

      
Her words sent blistering, bright bursts of hunger through his veins.
 
He kissed her other breast, teasing her with the tip of his tongue, drawing and sucking until her breathing came shallow and quick and she squirmed beneath him.

      
He stroked one hand along her flat belly, resting at the curling hair between her thighs.
 
She was hot, as he'd known she would be, and for a moment he reminded himself that she most certainly wasn't a virgin.
 
That knowledge didn't sadden him, though.
 
In fact, her experience and boldness were part of what he loved most about her.

      
Loved?

      
He froze for a moment, lingering over her, lifting his face to gaze down into her eyes.
 
If he could have seen her expression clearly, would he find love in her eyes?
 
Or merely desire?

      
Don't think, Morrison.

      
She pressed her mound against the heel of his hand and moaned again–a sound he echoed from deep in his own throat.
 
Now wasn't the time for thinking.
 
Only action would do.

      
He found her womanly folds and paused again.
 
She was hot and wet and ready.
 
Holding his breath, he parted her with thick, trembling fingers, groaning aloud at her response.
 
She gasped and tilted her hips, granting him entrance.
 
The womanly scent of her wafted up to him, spicy and sweet.

      
"Oh, Lord," he murmured, feeling her feminine core tighten around his probing fingers.
 
"I don't think I can... wait."

      
"Don't wait."
 
She urged him back up the length of her, capturing his engorged body in her hands.
 
"Have mercy."
 
Brushing her thumb over his throbbing tip, she slid her other hand down his full length.
 
"I want you.
 
Every...blessed... inch."

      
That did it.

      
Cole allowed her to guide him against her womanhood, positioning his throbbing tip.
 
He closed his eyes, drawing deep breaths to regain control of his spiraling need.
 
He wanted this to last a good long while, but he was so aroused he feared he might explode on contact.

      
With a trembling sigh, she wrapped her arms and legs around him.
 
He'd never been more aware of himself as a man in the very physical sense as he was at this moment.
 
She empowered him, and that was both thrilling and terrifying.
 

      
He was a big man–he'd always known that.
 
She was tall for a woman, but delicate of bone and with just enough flesh in all the right places.
 
Beneath his hulking form, she seemed tiny.
 
Even so, he knew he couldn't hurt her.
 
She was too ready, too willing, too wild with wanting.

      
A feeling he understood too damned well.

      
The friction of her body against his set him on fire.
 
Her breasts were delicate and soft compared to the unyielding planes of his chest, her nipples hard and tantalizing against him.
 

      
He couldn't wait another moment.
 
Pressing himself steadily inward, he held his breath, savoring every life-threatening inch.
 
She closed around him even as she drew him deeper and deeper into her tight sheath.

      
"Have mercy," he whispered, repeating her earlier declaration.
 
"Easy, don't move, woman."

      
"In your dreams...big guy," she breathed, kneading his buttocks and urging him deeper.
 

      
She squeezed him tighter, held him as if she would never let him go.
 
God save him if she changed her mind now.

      
Moaning, she eased her knees higher, locking her heels around his waist.
 
He couldn't hold back any longer and buried himself swift and hard, pausing to gasp as she held him fast with velvet promise.
 
She shuddered beneath him.

      
"Did I hurt you?"
 
He gazed down at her face, bathed in shadows now as the moon no longer shone through the door.
 
"Are you all right?"

      
"No, you didn't hurt me."
 
She squeezed him hard and angled her hips more fully against him.
 
"But I'm not all right.
 
Yet."

      
He chuckled low and deep, then she moved against him again and his laughter died on a groan of exquisite agony.
 
If he didn't move inside her right now, it would soon be too late.

      
Vowing to take her with him on this shattering journey, he withdrew until only his throbbing tip remained within her, then plunged into her receptive body.
 
Again and again, slowly, he drove into her, feeling her clench and swallow his full length.

      
She met him thrust for thrust, matching his movements, increasing the depth of their union.
 
He gritted his teeth, praying he could last long enough to show her the pleasure he so desperately wanted to give.

      
Every muscle in his body trembled as he moved urgently with her.
 
They rose and fell together in perfect rhythm–laboring, battling, mastering.
 
Hot, bright and dazzling.
 
Lightning struck and he lost control, taking her on a frenzied, wild voyage from which he knew neither of them would return unchanged.

      
Faster, harder, he lunged to the depths of a scorching explosion as she arched upward, contorting around him.
 
He came into her, filled her with his seed and his very essence.
 
Everything he had, everything he was, melded into this moment in time.
 

      
Her body convulsed and she cried out her own completion.
 
She clutched his shoulders, rocked with him, and they remained locked together as intimately as a man and woman could possibly be.

      
He caught a fistful of her hair and kissed her soundly, passionately, tenderly.
 
This had been much, much more than a man relieving himself with an available woman.
 
He couldn't think right now about what had just happened.
 
His mind was foggy, his body drained.

      
Showering her face with tiny kisses, he shivered as she stroked his sweaty back, massaging his muscles and easing his return to the mortal world.
 
This woman gave and took with an appetite that stunned him and left him shaken.

      
And confused.

      
All he knew for certain was that what he'd said earlier was true.
 
He could never get enough of this perplexing woman.
 
Already, he felt his body hardening with desire, still buried deep within her.

      
"You were..."

      
She pressed her fingertip to his lips.
 
"Not now," she whispered.
 
"Don't spoil it."

      
He cupped her face and felt her tears.
 
She tried to turn away, but he held her fast.
 
"Did I hurt you?"

      
"You were wonderful," she said.
 
"Much too wonderful to be real."

      
He wondered about the hint of sadness in her voice.
 
A hot flush crept over his face as he remembered his powerful explosion.
 
It had been such a long time since...

      
There could be a child.
 
Could that worry be the cause of her tears?
 
He would never let her give birth to his child out of wedlock, and having seen the way she treated Todd, he couldn't imagine his Jackie being sad about the possibility of a child.