Camera Shy (12 page)

He wetted his lips and looked at the clock.

Seven forty-five.

A groan escaped his throat. If she didn't get there soon, he'd to have to relieve some of this tension himself.

Seven forty-six.

Seven forty-seven.

In her mind, Simone had already arrived at Jason's. A kaleidoscope of memories flashed through her mind, and she swore she felt his hands on her, his lips against hers, his cock inside of her, his breath on her neck, his—

"Come
on
," she muttered.

Almost there. She chewed her lip. Almost there. She squirmed in her seat. Almost there. A soft murmur escaped her lips.

Almost there.

Seven forty-nine.

Seven fifty.

The Jack Daniels wasn't doing a damned thing, but it kept his mouth busy. Kept his hands busy. Gave him something to focus on besides her. Besides her sizzling skin against his. Besides her tongue intertwining with his. Besides the way she sounded when she came again, and again.

He drained the glass.

"Come on, come on," he whispered, putting the bottle away again. His head spun, but the buzz he felt had nothing to do with the alcohol.

Seven fifty-two.

Seven fifty-three.

She turned off the main drag. Down the winding road outside of town that led to one place and one place only.

One more turn.

Her heart pounded. Her clit pulsed.

Seven fifty-five.

Seven fifty-seven.

Fingers drumming. Knees shaking.

The ice in his glass rattled. It was just water this time, just something cold to keep him from catching on fire. A cold shower might not even do the trick at this point. Seven fifty-nine.

Headlights in the driveway.

The clock on the dash turned to eight o'clock a split second before Simone turned the key and the dashboard lights went dark.

She took the porch steps two at a time. As she reached for the doorbell, the door flew open. Jason caught her hand, pulling her into a frantic embrace and a deep kiss. He instantly overwhelmed her. His musky scent mingling with his light cologne. His fingers in her hair. His hand on the small of her back. The sweet taste of his tongue against hers.

They tumbled through the front door together, tangled in each other as they kissed and touched and tried to get out of their clothes.

Jason kissed her mouth, her jaw, her neck. "My God, I've missed you," he breathed against her throat.

"I've missed you too," she murmured, exhaling sharply as his lips set her skin on fire. She was vaguely aware that they were moving across the room, stumbling over each other and their clothes. It was all she could do not to pull him down to the floor. Something solid hit her hip, jarring her. They both looked down. She was up against the kitchen table.

"This will do," he said against her throat.

Before she could think, he slid his hands behind her thighs and hoisted her onto the table. She barely kept herself from moaning in anticipation of his cock. She wanted him, she needed him; Christ, no man had ever set her on fire like this.

"Fuck me," she pleaded. "Please fuck me, Jason."

"I will," he whispered, parting her legs and pulling her to the edge of the table.

"Believe me, I will. But I
have
to taste you first." When his tongue found her clit, the overwhelming rush of sensations took her breath away. She tried to tell him how much she loved it, how much he turned her on, how much she needed his cock inside her now or she was going to lose her mind, but all that came out was a soft whimper. Icy-hot tremors rippled up her spine as his fingers slid inside her, bending just a little to beckon the powerful sensations out of her.

She didn't remember it being this intense before. In all the fantasies she'd had since she left, he'd sent her to incredible heights, but the orgasm he was creating within her right now was almost frightening in its intensity.

"Jason," she murmured. Her fingers ran through his hair. Grasped the edges of the table. Ran through his hair again. Clenched into trembling fists. "Oh God, Jason . . .

." Her back arched off the table, and still her impending orgasm grew, still it intensified, still it thundered inside her until she was certain the release would be nothing short of
shattering
.

White light exploded behind her eyelids and she thought she might have called out his name as electricity coursed through her veins. She was distantly aware that his fingers had withdrawn, that his mouth had broken contact with her clit, but then foil tore, and she no longer cared.

Jason stood, grasped her hips, and thrust into her. Her back arched off the table and she knew she cried out this time, completely overcome as he slammed into her, driving himself deep inside her as her orgasm went on and on.

Even as it subsided, as the strongest shudders peaked and fell, the intensity remained, and still she wanted more. She hooked her hands over the edge of the table, pulling herself toward him.

"God, yes, just like that." Her words were little more than a slurred whisper. Jason moaned, a breathless, helpless sound, and held her hips tighter. "Oh Jesus, Allyson . . . ."

His eyes closed and his lips parted, revealing clenched teeth. The cords on his neck stood out and he grimaced, almost as if in pain.

Using her grasp on the table's edge for leverage, she lifted her hips, simultaneously pulling him deeper and tightening around him.

His eyes flew open and he gasped, and then shuddered against her. "Oh God," he said as he exhaled, almost choking on the words. "Oh my . . .
God
. . . ." He tensed, shuddered, relaxed.

He released his breath as he slowly collapsed over her, holding himself up with his elbows and kissing her gently. Then he rested his head on her chest. She stroked his hair, which was cool and damp with the slightest hint of sweat. For a long time, they just listened to each other breathe, held each other as the last aftershocks rippled through them.

Finally, he raised his head, kissed her, and whispered, "I'm so glad you're here."

"Me too," she said, running her fingers through his hair. "I've been dying for this for days."

He grinned. "You aren't the only one, believe me."

She blinked, pretending to be offended. "Jason Connor, have you been thinking impure thoughts?"

"Every waking moment," he said, kissing her shoulder, then her neck. "And even some of the sleeping moments."

She snorted. "I'm disgusted."

"No you're not."

"How do you know?"

He kissed her mouth, and then laughed. "If you are, it's only because I haven't told you about all of the impure thoughts I've had."

She tightened her lips to suppress a laugh. "I don't want you to tell me about them."

"You don't?" His face took on an expression similar to that of a sad little boy, but the threat of a laugh tightened the corner of his mouth. "But I wanted to tell you all about them."

"No," she said. She pulled him into a kiss. "Don't tell me.
Show
me."

Chapter Twenty-One

It was nearly ten by the time they returned to the kitchen, where Jason made them a late dinner.

Afterward, he put his hand over hers on the table and smiled. "I thought I was going to go out of my mind waiting for you today."

"You're not the only one." She sipped her wine, turning her other hand over beneath his. "I could have sworn that drive was shorter."

"You know, there are flights directly into Tofino. Mostly puddle-jumpers, but it might save you some time."

Simone shifted slightly, avoiding his gaze for a moment. "I, well, I figured with the layovers, it would be six of this, half dozen of the other." Jason's brow furrowed, and she wondered if he saw right through her. Then he shrugged and picked up his glass. "Can't blame you for that, I guess. I'd rather be out on the highway than sitting in an airport."

"Yes, exactly."

A mischievous grin tugged at his lips. "Though a plane might be safer than me behind the wheel on a day like this."

"Oh?"

The grin broadened and he winked as he picked up his glass. "Let's just say I wouldn't have been focusing as much as I should have on the road." She laughed. "I managed, but it did take some work."

"Did it?"

"Knowing I was coming to meet you?" It was her turn to offer a grin and a wink.

"You're damn right."

He trailed his finger along the inside of her wrist, laughing softly when she shivered. Then he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the backs of her fingers. "I'm really glad you're here. I've been looking forward to this ever since you left."

"Me too."

"Though I feel bad having you come all this way," he said. "I'd be happy to come to your neck of—"

"No, no, it's no trouble," she said quickly.
Too
quickly, she realized a moment too late. She cleared her throat. "I like it up here."

Jason inclined his head a little. "Are you sure? It wouldn't take much for me to get down to California."

Simone swallowed. "Given the choice between here, and all of the smog, traffic, and crap down there? Trust me, it's worth the flight and the drive. " He hesitated, and then smiled, but some of the hesitation lingered in his eyes. "So you're just using me to get to Tofino?"

She laughed. "Sex and Tofino, of course."

"Well, in that case . . . ." His eyes finally backed up his smile and he shrugged with one shoulder. "I suppose I can't complain."

"You'd better not be complaining, Mr. Connor."

"Oh, I'm not." They held each other's gazes for a long moment. Then he kissed her hand again. "Well, no sense sitting here all night, is there?" He rose and picked up their plates. "Let me just clean things up a bit, but you might like the view outside." She glanced out the window. "In the dark?"

"Go out and look up. Trust me."

"Are you sure you don't need a hand in here?"
A hand, how cute, Simone
.

"I've got it. I'll only be a minute. More wine?"

She hesitated
.
Oh hell, what was one more glass to a woman who could kill a bottle and a half of Smirnoff? "Please."

With his hands full of plates from the table, he gestured with his chin to the sliding glass door. "Go ahead; I'll bring it out there." Simone stepped out onto the deck and as he suggested, she looked up. Not a cloud in the sky, and the view was magnificent. There were thousands more stars than she could ever see in L.A. The sky was clear of smog, and the only light aside from the moon came from inside Jason's house. Below, gently rolling waves flickered in the soft, silvery light.

Breathtaking.

Behind her, the light inside went out and a moment later, Jason joined her, setting the glass of wine on the railing and resting his hands on her hips. He kissed the side of her neck, sending a shiver up her spine.

For a long time, they stood in silence, staring up at the sky. Without the light from inside the house, even more stars appeared. "It's beautiful," she said.

"I know. It's one of the reasons I moved here."

"It never loses its novelty?"

He shook his head. "Never. I could sit out here every night and look up there."

"Do you?"

"Well, when the mosquitoes aren't out."

"And when the clouds aren't there?"

He glanced at her and they both laughed. "Yeah, the clouds don't help much." Glancing around on the deck, Simone said, "I'm surprised you don't have a telescope out here."

"I like looking at the stars," he said with a shrug. "But I'm just not a telescope kind of guy."

"What do you mean?"

He gestured at the stars. "They're beautiful as they are. I don't need to try to zoom in on them, to pick one out and focus on it." He shrugged and nuzzled the side of her neck. "Just seems like that's kind of missing the point."

"Like missing the forest for the trees?"

"Exactly."

"But you focus on little things all the time with your camera. The little flower on the beach. That island."

He nodded. "I like to see the things that are all around me. There's so much here to see, so many little things that are beautiful in their own right." He gestured at the sky again. "I just don't have any desire to go looking for it anywhere else."

"I've never thought of it that way."

"Some people get so caught up in looking for beauty that's light years away." His lips brushed the side of her face as he spoke. "They miss the beauty that's right in front of their faces." He slid his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him. Simone's mouth went dry.

Jason put his hands back on her hips and turned her to face him. "
That
is why I wanted to take your picture the day we met, Allyson." She tried to avoid the intensity of his eyes, but he gently lifted her face back up to meet his gaze. "I've never been drawn to a woman like I am to you, and I wanted to capture that." Her legs were unsteady. "Jason. . . ."

But he didn't wait for her to finish her thought. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. The dizzying scent of his cologne mingled with the moist, sweet taste of his mouth and intoxicated her. As many times as he'd kissed her, it still felt like the first time, every time.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, and for a long time, they just held each other on the deck, beneath the stars, and kissed. He ran his hands through her hair, caressed her face. It never ceased to amaze her how he kissed with his hands as much as he kissed with his mouth, and he overwhelmed her.

She lost track of time as she lost herself in him. When he broke the kiss and looked into her eyes, his own just barely illuminated by the moonlight, the hunger was unmistakable. She wetted her lips, and, as if in response, he did the same a heartbeat before he kissed her again. Gentleness gave way to urgency, tenderness gave way to need.

His hands slid down her back and onto her hips. "I love it when you wear a skirt," he growled, caressing to her thighs.

"Do you?"

"I do."

"Why is that?"

"Because it's easier to get to what I want," he said, his lips brushing her ear as he spoke. He brought her skirt up over her hips and ran his hands over her bare thighs.