Hard Irish (13 page)

What did take her breath away was the sight of him.  Every lean inch of him was honed and tanned to perfection.  He dropped the curtain and turned to face her.  His broad shoulders and rippled abs made her weak in the knees, but it was the want in his gaze that did her in.  It was as raw and edgy as her need, only sharper.  The hungry predator had found his juicy prey.

Had she actually thought she could share another roll-on-the-floor rock-her-world kiss and escape unscathed?  Rethink time.  “I came to see if you’re all right.”  She moved over to the couch and picked up his crutches, planning to take them to him.  “You should be using these.”

He didn’t wait, but moved her way—faster than she thought possible.

He reached her.  “They’d only be in the way of this.”

She didn’t have a chance to breathe before he caught her in his arms and planted his mouth on hers, instantly hot and demanding.

She opened to him, meeting the thrust of his tongue with hers, groaning deep from within as her starving senses found succor for her every want.  His tongue tangled with hers, leading her in a seductive dance unlike any other.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tight against his supple heat and burning erection.  She pressed her palms to his chest, half thinking to stem the flooding tide, but then went crazy in a quest to feel and know his every contour.  His muscles rippled as he shuddered at her touch.

His driving kiss eased only a moment then he swept her into deeper waters as he trailed his lips and tongue down her neck before latching onto nipple through the cotton of her tank top.  Pleasure shot to her core.

Scorching.

Intense.

Completely mind-absorbing.

She grabbed his shoulders, needing to anchor herself to this universe as her body went wild for more.   She arched her back and shifted her hips, pressing her sex against his urgent arousal.

He made a deep guttural sound of pleasure-pain and jerked her shirt up.  His mouth went to one nipple, sucking her deep.  His hand went to her other breast, catching her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, tweaking the hardened peak in rhythm to the rub of his erection against her sex.

A fever of quench-me-or-die desire raged through her.  Her blood rushed.  Her heart thundered.  Every pore dampened.  Her sex wept.

“Jared,” she cried out, begging for help, her body completely lost in him even though her heart and mind were so distant, still captive to her past.

He released her breast and met her gaze.  Sexual need burned like a live wire in his blue eyes, electrifying and dangerous, but she saw concern there too.  As if he knew and understood her need and confusion.

His breaths came in deep gulps.  His body shook as if ravaged by something beyond his control.  “God help us both,” he whispered and pulled her shirt completely off.

He eased her back onto the couch.  But instead of following her down to continue kissing her, he knelt between her legs, grabbed the waistbands of her cotton shorts and underwear and pulled them down and off.

She lay there naked, her breasts rising up and down with every gasping breath, her nipples peaked and begging, and her damp sex exposed and aching.  She was shocked.

She wasn’t shocked that he had her like this, but by just how much she wanted to be consumed by him in every way, no matter what the consequence.

“You’ve a golden tan all over.  I can just see you up on your roof, hot, needy, and ready to sacrifice your body to the sun, to pleasure.  Do you know what I would do if I found you up there naked?”

“What?” she whispered, her gaze glued to the passion in his.

“This,” he grabbed her knees and spread her legs wide and looked at her sex, his eyes widening with hungry surprise.  “Damn oh, damn.  What is this?”  He ran a finger across the soft skin of her smooth sex.  Except for a thin strip of clipped hair at the cleft of her clitoris, she was waxed bare.

His excitement upped hers.  “Blame Dessie, she—”

“Blame?  More like
thank
.”  His voice rasped harshly.  She didn’t get a chance to answer.  He spread her legs even wider than before and brought his mouth to her sex, his passion-dark gaze watched her expression as his tongue slid over her exposed and hardened clitoris then flicked repeatedly with determined strokes.

Intense pleasure ripped through her.  Her hips flexed for more and her knees fell even wider as she succumbed to the tide engulfing her from the inside out.  She let herself go completely.

After holding such a tight reign over her needs for years, after surviving the hurt and disappointment of her marriage, after being alone for so long, she was incapable of doing anything else.

Sliding his hands up to cup her breasts and tease her nipples, he licked and sucked her sex until a mind blowing orgasm had her shuddering in his arms and crying out his name.

“Delicious,” he whispered as he shifted to kiss her mouth.  She tasted herself on his lips and tongue.  Sweet and musky.  She clasped her legs around his hips and urged him until she felt his silk-covered erection hard against her still aching sex.  It was as if once loosened, her need knew no bounds.

Jared’s heart raced and his dick throbbed.  Somewhere between the two, his mind floundered and his injured leg disappeared from his conscious radar.  Nothing was going to interfere with the moment.

He had Rocky exactly where he’d wanted her since he’d first set his gaze on her—naked and wanting in his arms.  She was a surprise.  Sun bathing in the nude and smooth as silk sex.  Gliding his tongue over her, seeing every nuance of her wet and wanting flesh had him so hard, he thought he was going to die.  She was like a powerful drug that had him on the most intense high of his life and he refused to tag it with any sappy phrase.

Whatever it was, whatever had happened to him, it was real and was whipping his ass, but in a good way.  He’d had one night stands.  He’d had good sex.  He’d had bad sex—if there was such a thing.  Sex had always just been sex—a damn easy way to feel good.

But this fever of want for Rocky was a pleasure-ache he couldn’t seem to satisfy.  He wanted to drown in her.  He wanted to OD on her.  He wanted her with a neediness that shocked him.

It wasn’t that she was more sensually beautiful than he imagined—long, lean legs, firm, full breasts, honey tanned-all-over skin and silky dark hair.  It wasn’t that her haunted vulnerability had grabbed him by the short hairs either.  He couldn’t explain it.  It was one of those things that just was.

He’d tasted her citrusy-coconut self, saw her come and wanted to see her come again.  Wanted her eyes to glaze.  Wanted her lush lips to open with need.  Wanted to be driving deep and wild into her hot core.

The distant notion that he couldn’t hear an assailant if his thoughts were consumed with fucking her crossed his mind, and the fact that he’d stormed her citadel even though he told her he wouldn’t, didn’t escape his notice.  Those two things kept him from grabbing a condom and taking them on a magic carpet ride.

His thoughts didn’t stop him from re-storming her citadel though.  “More please,” he said as he left her lips and moved to her breasts.

“More?”  Her green eyes, now misty with desire and sexual satisfaction, widened.  “I don’t think—”

“Sure you do.  You like extra, remember.”  He sucked a nipple into his mouth.

“Yeah, but I’ve never been a multip—”

He slid his hand up her leg and eased two fingers into her wet channel.  Her hips jerked and the hot walls of her vagina squeezed his fingers.  He released her nipple and blew its hardened tip.

“No buts.  You can come again.  Just let yourself go and trust me.  Watch me make it happen for you.  Feel me.”  He thrust his fingers deeper and gave a little twist as his thumb found her clit.

She cried out, her pleasure and surprise more than evident.  He grinned as he slid his fingers out.  She moaned as if she wasn’t ready for him to stop and he wasn’t.  Not by a long shot.

This was going to be so good.  Leaning down, he scooped her legs over his shoulders and straightened so that her hips were up in the air and her head pressed back into the softness of her sofa.  With her smooth sex placed just right, he slid his fingers back inside her.  This time, he used three and stroked her crevice with his thumb as he indulged himself in the scent and taste of her.  He didn’t stop until they were both shuddering from the force of her orgasm.

When he released her and moved up to brush her mouth with a kiss, he noticed the sheen of tears in her eyes.  He wasn’t sure what had brought them to the surface, but knew from the pleasure shining in her gaze that it was a good thing, even though the shadow of her ghosts had returned.  It was all the satisfaction
he
needed for now. 

Without a word, he settled on the couch with her and wrapped her in his arms to enjoy the feel of spooning.  He’d planned to just hold her and brush his fingers through the silk of her hair as they relaxed.

But she didn’t just lie still.  After a few moments, she pressed her bottom back against his still throbbing dick and wiggled.  Hell.  He exhaled as if sucker punched.  “Rocky.  Uh.  We need to...um.”

She arched her back and pressed hard.  He groaned.

“We need to get your Calvin’s off is what we need.”  She turned to face him and slid her hand inside the waistband of his underwear and jerked down.  His dick popped free, engorged and burning hot.  “Then we can move on to bigger and better things.”  She clasped a hand around his shaft and gently squeezed as she pulled up. 

His hips jerked in response, nearly knocking her off the sofa.  Damn.  In one touch she had him about to explode.

His mind warred with his body and he finally decided that having her deep and hard and fast, with his Glock within reach, would make him a better bodyguard than lying in the dark alone, burning for her and trying to hear an intruder above his clamoring dick.

Lifting her, he brought her on top and shifted beneath her.  She straddled him and braced her hands against his chest, her fingers flexing into his pecs, then caressing his nipples and exploring his chest.  He watched her enjoying herself for a bit while his dick stood straight and hard, rubbing against her stomach, just aching to glide home into her silky sex.

He didn’t know about other men, but for him tit-for-tat was a turn on.  He went for her nipples, filling both of his hands.  Her eyes closed and she arched, rising higher on her knees and thrusting her breasts harder against his palms. He squeezed her full breasts and shifted his thumbs to flick the points of her nipples.  She brought her hand to his erection and pressed him against the smooth skin of her bare sex as she rocked to the rhythm of his thumbs.  She was wet and slippery from his mouth and her orgasms.

He shuddered, feeling like he could come in a heartbeat.  He never would have believed how much a turn on her waxed, clear sex could be.  He released her breasts.  With one hand he reached for a condom out of the gym bag next to him on the floor.  With his other hand he slid a finger to her exposed and swollen clit.

Her gasp and responding hip-jerk told him that he could make her come again if he played things right, which meant he needed to slow down.  He wanted the first time inside her to be right.  Hard and fast could come later.  Would come later.

He tore the condom open with his teeth.  She opened her eyes at the sound and watched him slid the sheath over the tip of his dick.  She moved in to help then, caressing and squeezing as she smoothed the covering down to the base of his shaft.

She seemed a little unsure, maybe a little lost in the sensual storm they were wrapped up in.  Hell, putting himself in her shoes, he would be, too.  Meet a guy in a bar one night and have sex with him on the couch the next might be his MO, well, except the guy part.  But she didn’t operate that way.

For a moment, he wondered if he’d pushed too far, too fast.  Things with her were different.  She was different and he sure as hell didn’t want her to have any
morning after
regrets.  He wanted morning after sex!  Afternoon after sex.  Week after sex.  Anything.   Which meant she needed to be in the driver’s seat and he needed to take a chill pill.  All aching dick aside, whatever happened would happen and he’d survive.

He caught her hands with his and threaded his fingers between hers.  “I have a confession to make.”

Her brow creased as surprise cleared a little of the sensual haze from her eyes.  “What?”

“I want you so much that I’m afraid I’ve pushed you places you’re not ready to go.  So nothing’s going to happen unless you make it happen.  I want you to want me but when—”

She released his hands and sat back on her heels, looking upset.  “Bloody Hell, Jared Weldon, if you think you’re going to go all gentleman on me when I’m naked, on top of you, so ready, and haven’t had a man in over three years then—”

“Damn, Rocky.  I tried!”  He grabbed her hips, adjusted his erection and shoved home.  He went deep, arching his back until he’d buried himself to the hilt.  She gasped and braced herself, hands on his chest.  He was a man possessed, determined to possess.  He rocked hard, slamming up into her with enough force to bounce.  Her breasts swayed.  Her back arched.  Her mouth opened in that sexy, oh-so-wanting-to-be-satisfied way.  He slid his thumb to her clit and in a relentless frenzy of need didn’t stop anything and everything he could do to rocket them both out of the freaking universe.

She collapsed on top of him, crying his name, her sheath convulsing around his dick, ratcheting his orgasm to the point that his whole body spasmed.  For a moment, his vision blacked, his ears rang, and he was sure he was going to pass out.  All he could do was wrap his arms around her and hold on.  Even breathing seemed beyond his capability.  Heart thudding in tandem to hers, Jared relaxed and focused on enjoying the feel of her and the pleasure saturating the moment.  He knew all too well that life would intrude soon enough.

C
HAPTER
N
INE

Dawn had yet to break and Jared was up, partly because his leg had been clamoring from abuse and required Tylenol to take the edge off.  After reporting in to Jesse and informing him of the pending “to be delivered after death” packages, he’d awkwardly showered, shaved and dressed, armed for the day—three condoms lined his pocket.