Chasing Marisol (Blueprint to Love Book 3) (14 page)

Heat swept over him in a way he'd never experienced before. One tiny brain cell wanted to analyze the wildfire, out-of-control feeling. But it was quickly overruled by the rest of him. The rest of him was prepared to be scorched. He'd never had to wait this long before— never had to earn the right to sleep with a woman. The wait was a perfectly logical reason why he was ready to leap into the deep end. Any guy who waited for a gorgeous, totally hot woman like Mari would be a little crazy when he finally got her.

When he couldn't bear the building pressure for another moment, he lifted her gently, pinning her back to the wall. He took one perfect breast into his mouth and was rewarded with a sob of pleasure. Her midnight hair was curly and untamed, her eyes unfathomably blue— and burning with passion for him. She was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

Mari was out of control now, as wild and close to the edge as he felt. When he could stand it no longer, he entered her swiftly. Her low, satisfied groan was the sweetest sound he'd ever heard. Unable to resist touching her, he pulled her from the wall, cupping her sweet butt in his hands. She locked her legs around him and it was the most powerful feeling he'd ever experienced. He wanted all of her. Thrusting into her again and again, each time she took him deeper. Jeff wished like hell he could make it last forever.

When her release swept over him, it was cataclysmic, rocking him to the core. She cried out his name, muttering in Spanish in that husky, sexy accent. She tightened around him, squeezing him, kissing him, gifting him with the most powerful orgasm he'd ever experienced. Her name was torn from his throat as he let himself rocket away from earth.        

It took several minutes for her to stop trembling and for Jeff to reattach himself to his brain. When he regained consciousness, he opened his eyes. "Mari, sweet— are you alright?"

She released a shaky sigh, her body still slack in his arms. "Never better."

He buried his face in her throat and inhaled the sweet, spicy scent of her fragrance mingled with the heady scent of their joined bodies. The lethal combination was burned into his brain— like the jasmine in her yard. Her eyes were dazed and slumberous with satisfaction. Her overwhelmed expression was enough to make him hard again. Somewhere deep inside, he experienced a primitive stab of possessiveness. That expression— belonged to him.  

Unsure what to make of the foreign feeling, Jeff shoved it aside. There would be plenty of time later for Monday morning quarterbacking. Much later. For now, he was going to enjoy every single moment of his time in paradise.

"You were right about us not making it upstairs." He released her gently, setting her back on her feet, waiting for her to stop swaying before he let go.

She smiled. "I knew exactly how I was feeling. I'm just glad you felt it, too." Without pausing to retrieve their clothes, she roped her fingers through his. "Come on. I'll show you the upstairs. Perhaps after the tour we can try to make it back down for dinner before midnight."

He watched her gorgeous butt sway up the stairs in front of him and felt himself tighten all over again. Blazing hot sex halfway up the stairs was increasingly likely. But dinner before midnight? Highly questionable.

***

Several hours later, Jeff's stomach growled as he was propped up on one elbow watching her. Even as she slept, Mari was beautiful. Sifting silky, dark chocolate curls through his fingers, he admired the cute sprinkle of freckles fanned across her nose, guessing she got those from her mother's side of the family.

Her bedroom, like the rest of her house was sparse, functional, yet still warm and feminine. There was no clutter on the bureau, no piles of clothes or messy jewelry boxes. Her room reminded him of an oasis— her bed was comfortable, the pillows even more so, the colors soothing and somewhat tropical. Jeff liked being there. Though he probably wouldn't spend the night, he didn't think he'd
mind
sleeping there— should he ever decide to bend one of his rules.

That alone was revelation enough to accelerate his heartbeat from its deeply relaxed state. Just because he'd enjoyed several rounds of the most amazing sex of his life wasn't reason enough to start randomly chucking rules out the window.

"Has a ferocious beast taken up residence?" Turning her head on the pillow, Mari opened her eyes. "Or could that possibly be your stomach?"

He felt a punch of heat when her gorgeous turquoise eyes locked with his. Not for the first time tonight, he wondered what the hell was happening to him. Unlike most dates, he didn't feel restless— as though the evening was pretty much over and it was time to head home. Usually, Jeff couldn’t wait to get back to his place where he could collapse in his own bed and not worry whether he was hogging the sheets or taking too much space. Where he could wake up the next morning satisfied from decent sex, yet refreshed because he was finally alone again.

He'd always viewed it as his way of beating the system. Because he didn't have to make small talk. He didn't have to shower in a strange bathroom that was cluttered with makeup and stupid girly soaps and female junk that took up way too much space.

"Does this mean you’re finally ready for the spice part of the evening?"

Sliding back under the covers, he kissed every one of the cute freckles he'd been admiring. "I thought we'd been experiencing the spice part— for the last four hours."

Her eyes widened in mock innocence. "You haven't experienced anything yet. We need to fire up the grill before we starve to death up here."

He raised an eyebrow. "It
is
dark enough now for us to spend some quality time out on that deck." Recalling her suggestion that they make love out there, he hoped for another fiery blush as a reward.

Her sweet, talented mouth split with a smile, revealing even, white teeth that appeared more so against her soft, honeyed skin. Even now, Jeff found himself a little dazzled by her beauty. Mari didn't even have to try hard and she stole his breath.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" She pushed back the covers and stretched. "I'm starving."

He watched her cross the room, her naked body lithe and golden in the light spilling in from the hallway. And grew hard as he watched her slip on a tee shirt. Seriously? What was it about this woman that made him so crazy— so desperate for more?

"I'm going to take a quick shower. Then we can light the grill and finally cook our dinner." Crossing to the doorway, Marisol was oblivious to his suddenly red alert body.

Jeff rose from the bed in search of his clothes, finally remembering how they'd been urgently discarded at the bottom of the stairs. Hearing the shower start as he entered the hallway, he paused on the top step. The water changed patterns as it connected with all that gorgeous skin. Hesitating only a moment, he turned in the opposite direction and made his way to the bathroom.

Admiring her through the frosted glass of the shower stall, his heart flipped over in his chest as she soaped the curviest body he’d ever seen. When Mari noticed him standing there, she opened the shower door, a beguiling smile on her face.

"Mind if I join you? I'm suddenly very hot again."

She smiled again as water splashed over them, her eyelashes spiked together as though she'd been caught in a summer rainstorm. "It will be a tight fit. Old houses like this don't offer much assistance."

"We'll make it work." Crowding into the space with her, Jeff couldn’t wait to kiss her senseless. The hitch in Mari’s breath stole his own. The feel of her slippery body gliding against his was impossibly, amazingly good. "God— you feel unbelievable."

The fleeting worry he'd experienced in the hallway left him. This thing with Mari was a novelty. Once the magnetic attraction wore off— once the sex settled into a more predictable pattern— he'd be fine. He'd be back in control. He'd be able to resist her. Hell- he'd probably grow bored, as he always did.

The only real difference with Marisol was that he liked her. A lot. They'd become friends. And he liked Hector.

But as he lifted her beautiful body, as he anchored her against the shower wall, the water beat down on them in a relentless, crashing wave. Jeff entered her with a groan of pure male satisfaction. As he thrust into her in a mindless haze of raw pleasure, a tiny fraction of his brain grew more alarmed. As her nails scored his shoulders, his eyes sought hers— wanting more than anything to see what he did to her— wanting her to know what she was doing to him. When her release contracted around him, Jeff could only mutter her name, coming with a fierce violence he'd never experienced before.

And he knew
.

This was dangerously different.
Marisol
was different.

While part of him wanted to shout with pleasure over the new, exciting feeling— another part wanted to run for cover. Because the overwhelming mess of feelings— uncertainty—  confusion would swamp him. Expose him. Leaving him vulnerable in a way he'd sworn never to allow.

Jeff didn't want the perfect relationship. He didn't want to meet the love of his life. He'd never wanted anything that came close to mimicking his parents’ relationship. He didn't want a woman who would become his best friend . . . his lifeline. Or the years spent together raising a family. And he sure as hell didn't want the wrenching, horrible end to all that happiness. The end that would occur for no discernible reason. An end that would roar upon him like a locomotive and flatten him. As his parents' marriage had.

As he held her, Mari shuddered in his arms, her eyes revealing satisfaction . . . and something else. Vulnerability? Confusion? He kissed her gently as they both recovered, his soap-slicked hands still trembling as he stroked the length of her magnificent spine. And he tried like hell not to be terrified by what was happening to him.

***

Jefferson was already different. Mari stole another glance at him while he sipped his beer and gazed out at the night sky. They'd eaten grilled shrimp by the dozen, laughing over their ferocious hunger. They'd drunk wine, they'd talked about everything and nothing. To an untrained eye, his smile was still cocky, his words still light. But he was different.

She didn't know whether to be upset by the change or relieved. For she had gone into the evening with eyes wide open. Between her pep talk with Sharon and her own raging desire to finally take the next step with him, Marisol had prepared herself for better or worse— mostly for worse. She had tried to set her expectations as low as possible so she wouldn't be disappointed.

She smiled over the revelation. Her expectation had been for one amazing night with Jefferson Traynor. And she'd received it.

"What are you smiling about?" Jeff had lowered his gaze from the sky to stare at her.

"You. This incredible night." She could afford to be honest with him. Unlike Nick— at least Jeff's behavior was predictable. Could she truly fault him for acting the way she'd known he would? "I've had a great time with you, Jeff. Probably the best date ever."

"Let's do it again sometime," he suggested, beautiful eyes heating. "I know with Hector in the picture, you probably don't get the chance to go a little crazy very often. So, I'm glad it was with me." 

"Me, too." Despite her desire for a playful facade, her heart beat a little faster. This was the hard part— the 'after', when he would turn polite . . . acting as though what they'd shared had just been a typical Friday night. Hell— for him, it probably had.

Maybe for him it hadn't been amazing. Maybe he hadn't felt the earth shift. It probably wouldn't occur to Jeff they were two people incredibly in sync with each other. Or perhaps, Mari realized, it was only she who felt that. He was so incredibly different from Nick— so much more likeable and open. She felt in balance with Jeff in a way she'd never experienced with her former boyfriend. Tonight had been effortless— being with him, talking with him.

Even before the violence that had destroyed her relationship— that had nearly destroyed her spirit— she'd never felt close to Nick. He'd always held himself apart. Brooding, quiet, moody. Her twenty-four year old self had naively viewed those qualities as a challenge— as a prize to be won. The bad boy who could be tamed. She'd believed if he only trusted her, if he relied on her, she would love and protect him. Mari would 'fix' the dark, dangerous parts of him as only she could. And when that hadn't happened— because it could
never
happen, she was honest enough to admit now— she'd felt failure. He'd bruised not only her body, but her spirit.

But tonight was different for Jeff. For him, it was just a date . . . an evening of casual sex with a woman who intrigued him. She was one in a probable long line of amazing sexual experiences. Because that's who Jeff was. She couldn't act hurt by this revelation— because it wasn't a surprise. Her twenty-seven year old self had accepted his terms when she'd agreed to keep seeing him. And she couldn't try to change them because he'd never painted himself as someone different. Despite knowing what Jefferson was about, she liked him.

"As much as I would love more nights like tonight. . . I wouldn't change my life. I love that Hector is part of it. I could never give that up." Marisol discovered she was grateful for the darkness. At least he wouldn't see the heat of embarrassment crawling up her face. "But I'm glad tonight was with you."

While she would love the chance to continue this dance with him— she knew it likely wasn't in the cards. Jeff would grow bored, moving on to the
next
big challenge. Since she no longer held that appeal for him, he would find it easy to walk away. There was no sense getting worked up over it.