Crashing Into Love (24 page)

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Authors: Melissa Foster

BOOK: Crashing Into Love
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They’d been driving for almost two hours, and Fiona had dozed off about twenty minutes ago. He cut the engine and Fiona stirred. Jake leaned across the console and stroked her cheek. Her eyes fluttered open, and a sweet smile spread across her lips.

“Sorry,” she whispered.

“Don’t be. I’ve kept you up pretty late the last few nights.” He kissed her softly.

“Mm.” She wrapped her fingers around the back of his neck and pulled him into another kiss.

“I love late nights with you.” She looked out the window and squinted into the darkness. “Where are we?”

“Away from everyone else.” He came around and helped her from the car, then grabbed the bag he’d had the driver pack for them from the trunk. Putting an arm around Fiona’s waist, they ascended the porch steps and he unlocked the door. “Fifty acres of wooded privacy.” He pushed the door open and followed her inside the rustic cabin.

Fiona’s eyes trailed over the bar to their left, which separated the cozy kitchen from the great room.

“This is really nice,” she said as she walked through the great room, trailing her fingers over the arm of the couch and along the leather recliner. She touched the stone that surrounded the fireplace and picked up one of the framed photographs from the mantel. Her lips curved into a smile, and she tucked her hair behind her ear as she looked at the photo of Jake and his mother, taken about ten years earlier on his mother’s deck.

“This is sweet,” she said as she set it back down and picked up a picture of Jake, Luke, and Wes wearing cargo shorts and no shirts, holding up fishing lines full of fish.

Jake set the bag by the stairs. “Do you want something to drink?”

“Sure.”

She looked at the other pictures of his family while he poured the wine.

He took off his jacket and tie and laid it across the counter. He didn’t have a table in the cabin, only a bar with barstools. He’d never taken anyone there before, and he’d never minded the sparse accommodations. Now he wished he’d paid a little more attention, although the wish lasted only a brief moment. He knew that Fiona wasn’t into material things, and she probably loved the rustic cabin just as it was.

“Do you come here often?” she asked, taking a glass from him.

“Sounds like a pickup line.”

Fiona laughed as he settled onto the couch. “A bad one at that.” She sipped her wine, then set it on the coffee table and kicked off her heels; then she stooped to remove his dress shoes.

“I bought this place shortly after I moved to LA. In a way, I bought it because of you.” He watched her kneel between his legs and felt a tightening in his groin.

“Because of me? Because I was all-powerful even when you hated me?” She placed her hands on his knees, and a coy smile played across her lips.

You have no idea how powerful you are when I allow you into my head.

She slid both hands up his thighs, spreading them far enough for her body to fit between his knees, and she began unbuttoning his shirt, stopping after each button to press a kiss to his bare chest. Jake’s breathing hitched when he tried to answer. He drank his wine in one gulp and set the glass down, so damn turned on he tried to lift her onto his lap. She fought against his efforts and pressed his hands back down to the couch, pinning him with a seductive stare.

“Feisty, aren’t we?” She went back to work on the buttons of his shirt. “Relax. You always want control. This time it’s my turn.” She licked her lips, and he felt himself get harder. She dropped her gaze to his crotch, and he knew she felt it, too.

With the last button undone and the dark room lit only by streams of moonlight spilling through the windows, she pushed his shirt open and lowered her lips to his stomach. Her mouth was hot, her tongue wet, as she trailed openmouthed kisses along the waist of his slacks, sending a bolt of heat through his core. His stomach muscles tightened as her tongue glided along his hips, and she nipped at his taut skin.

“Jesus, Fi.”

“You like?” She slipped her fingers beneath the waist of his slacks and unbuttoned them.

“Hell yeah, I like.”

She slithered up his body, eyes dark and sinful, pressed her hips to his, and took him in a tongue-plunging kiss that nearly blew his mind. Just as he readied to pull her closer, she returned to the promising perch between his legs. She unzipped his pants and shimmied them down his hips, freeing his erection as she tossed them aside. She wrapped her slender fingers around his hard length. It was too much, watching her lower her mouth to him, in that sexy dress, with a wicked look in her eyes. He gripped the edge of the couch.

She licked the tip of his arousal, and his whole body shuddered.

“Congratulations on passing your blood test,” she whispered.

“Jesus,” he hissed.

He grabbed her forearms for no reason other than needing to hold on to her. She grinned as she opened her mouth and lowered it down upon him, taking all of him into her mouth until he felt the back of her throat. He sucked in air between gritted teeth, and his head fell back from the intense pleasure washing through him as she stroked the tip with her tongue and worked his shaft with her hand. He tangled his hands in her hair, fighting the urge to guide her but needing the contact. She moaned in pleasure, and the vibration made every muscle flex.

She pulled her mouth away slowly. “Mm, you like that.”

“Fi.” He was breathing hard, doing everything he could do not to turn her around and take her from behind.

“Jake,” she whispered as she sank back on her heels and licked his sensitive sac.

He felt his balls tighten and didn’t even try to stifle the greedy groan that sent his head back and his hips bucking as she swallowed him again. Her mouth was a tornado of talent. He pulled her from him, sending his arousal to his belly with a muted slap.

“Fi, I’m gonna come.”

She narrowed her eyes and licked him from base to tip, earning herself another groan. “We don’t want that yet, now, do we?” She rose to her feet and lifted the skirt of her dress, revealing a black lace thong. Then she hooked her thumbs in the string and drew it down in a hip-swinging striptease that made
his
hips lift in anticipation.

She stepped from the thong and held it up between her finger and thumb, raising her brows seductively before tossing it behind her. She was the picture of seduction as she straddled his lap, never uttering a sound. Her eyes sent all the sinful messages he needed. She was more confident in her sensuality than she’d been in high school. The way she took control and the sexy way she moved above him reminded him of a tigress, powerful and graceful at once.

“Condom,” he growled, fighting the desire to drive his erection into her wet center.

“I’m on the pill and you’ve been tested.”

He narrowed his eyes, not wanting to ask the obvious.

“I’ve never not used condoms. The pill was for my own peace of mind.”

That was all he needed to hear—and he wasn’t sure if he’d have been able to wait for a condom if she’d said anything different. He grasped her hips and lowered her onto his thick, throbbing shaft.

“Jesus…Don’t move.” The feel of her velvety insides made his entire body pulse with the need to undulate inside her, but he wanted more. He needed more of her. He reached around her with trembling hands and unzipped her dress, lifting it carefully over her head, then tossed it onto the coffee table.

She lowered her mouth to his neck and sucked, stealing his last ounce of restraint. He fisted his hand in her hair and tugged her mouth from his skin, crashing his mouth to hers as he ground his hips harder, thrust faster into her hot, wet center. She gyrated against him, creating friction like liquid fire. Buried deep, he shifted her beneath him so he could thrust harder. He ran his hands down her delicious curves and grasped her hips, holding them firm. She tore her mouth away, sucking in quick, sharp inhalations as she clutched at his arms.

She was gorgeous, lying beneath him, trusting and open. His heart swelled with love for her. He had no idea how he got from don’t-fucking-talk-to-me to I-can’t-imagine-a-day-without-you, but fuck it. He was there and was too far gone to ever want to turn back.

“Jake…” She panted.

Hearing the plea in her voice made him want to pleasure her more, but he knew that once she came, he was going to be right behind her. He sped up his efforts, taking her harder, angling her hips so he could penetrate deeper. He felt her thighs flex. She dug her nails into his flesh and closed her eyes as she cried out his name. The feel of her inner muscles convulsing around him, the sight of her in the throes of passion, the feel of her hips rocking against his as she came apart, knowing he’d taken her there, had him on the verge of coming. He wrapped her in his arms, tucked his face into the crook of her neck, getting as close as possible as the orgasm roared through him, and he filled her with everything he had to give. Emotionally and physically.

Chapter Eighteen

JAKE AWOKE SATURDAY to the smell of coffee and the sunlight streaking through the glass doors. He craned his neck and caught sight of Fiona standing barefoot on the deck, wearing his button-down shirt, her gorgeous legs bare to her toes. His lips spread in a slow smile with the memory of the evening before and the three times they’d made love. He felt himself getting hard. It seemed like he was in a constant state of arousal when he was with Fiona—or just thinking of her.

He didn’t even try to fight it as he pushed to his feet and walked naked into the kitchen, still thinking about last night. After making love, they’d taken a warm bath together. Taking care of Fiona and washing her body had been even more erotic than making love to her. Every protective urge he’d ever felt had taken possession of him last night, and now, as he filled his coffee cup and went upstairs to put on a clean pair of boxer briefs, he knew that more than protective urges had claimed him.

His heart felt full. He felt complete and content like he hadn’t since the last time they were together.

The loft was sparsely furnished, with a king-sized bed and a single dresser. The bedspread was hanging half off the bed from their tryst after their bath. He smiled to himself as he thought about making love in the bathtub. The memory of the dark look in Fiona’s eyes when they dried off and tumbled to the bed, unable to satiate their need for each other, made him even harder.
Damn
. They’d rinsed off again and wandered back downstairs. They’d talked while lying together in the hazy moonlight and must have dozed off.

He gazed over the railing at the living room below. Hardwood floors and the cathedral ceiling gave the cabin an airy feel, but there was no denying the log cabin was rustic. Seeing Fiona’s dress draped over the armchair and her heels beside the couch made him realize that the cabin was also very masculine. As much as her things seemed out of place in the otherwise dark and masculine room, they also looked very
right
.

He grabbed a pair of boxer briefs from the dresser and put them on, then went to the window and gazed down at Fiona leaning against the railing. She was staring off into the distance, with her hair tousled and one knee bent so only her toes were touching the deck. He could look at her all day. Watching her while she was unaware touched something inside him. He’d been awfully mean to her before they’d finally connected, and he wanted to make up for that. He’d spend a lifetime making up for it.

He went into the bathroom, washed his face and brushed his teeth, then went back downstairs and joined her on the deck.

“Hi,” he said as he folded her into his arms from behind and kissed her neck.

“It is so beautiful here. It feels like a world away from LA.”

“Two hours—not quite a world away, but just as good.”

She turned and leaned against his chest. “I like it here.”

“I like having you here.” He kissed her lips. “In more ways than one.”

“I think you accomplished that last night. On the couch, in the tub, on your bed.” She played with the hair on his chest.

“You started it on the couch, Little Miss Innocent.” He pulled her against him, and his hand met her bare ass. “Well, what do we have here?”

“I only had my thong,” she whispered.

“Are you afraid the deer might hear you?” He kissed her then, long and slow. “Do you really think I’d whisk you away unprepared? With just a thong and a cocktail dress?”

“Yes?” She arched a brow.

He laughed. “Yeah, I probably would, but I didn’t. I had the guy who brought my car to the restaurant pack a bag. I wasn’t too thrilled about him rifling through the clothes you left at my house this week, but it was the best I could do on short notice.”

“You’re so thoughtful.” She kissed his chin and pressed her hips to his.

“I thought you were pretty thoughtful—and
giving
—last night.” He said it to make her blush, which she did so adorably well. He kissed her again, sliding his hands further onto her butt and letting his fingers graze the warmth between her legs.

“Jake,” she whispered. “You’re addicting.”

“Some addictions are better than others.”

He tugged her in close and sealed his lips over hers as he slid his hand between her legs. She was wet and ready and felt so damn good. She pushed at his briefs and freed his arousal, then pulled the shirt she was wearing over her head and tossed it onto the deck.

“God, Fi,” he whispered as he lifted her easily into his arms. “You own me.”

She wrapped her legs around his waist, circling his neck with her arms as she sank onto his hard length.

“Oh, Jake,” she said in a throaty voice.

She felt incredible. Her thighs were soft and warm, her ass—Jesus, he loved her ass—spread wide as their heated flesh came together. He brought one hand to the back of her hair and tugged gently, tilting her face to slant his lips over hers in a kiss as he pumped her body to nail-digging pleasure.

She yanked her lips away and gasped for air. “Jake…Oh…God, Jake.”

He was lost in her and unable to speak as pressure burned down his spine and gathered between his legs.

“Come on, baby,” he urged, thrusting faster.

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