Authors: Julie Kenner,Kathleen O'Reilly
Tags: #Romance: Modern, #Contemporary, #General, #Romance, #Adult, #Romance - General, #Romance - Contemporary, #Fiction, #Fiction - Romance
AM ROSE UP
on his elbows and decided that he’d never seen anything so heart-stoppingly sexy in his entire life. Dr. Jenna Ferrar was splayed on his couch, her face flushed with satisfaction, long dark hair playing peekaboo with the dusky nipples and long legs encased in sheer black hose. The gleaming evidence of her pleasure glistened on the swollen pink skin between her thighs.
Cam closed his eyes for a second, memorizing the image.
Until her brisk fingers started working the buttons on his shirt. “I don’t understand why everything is so small.”
He moved her hands aside, helping her. “It’s a good thing you’re not a surgeon.”
“Oh, blow me, mister. Get the shirt off. Drop the trousers.”
Not only capable, but bossy, as well. Happily, Cam obeyed, tossing his clothes aside, until he was flat over her.
However, he wouldn’t let her lose the hose. “You can’t,” he said, when she would have taken them off. “I’m still living out fantasies I didn’t even know I had.”
She laughed and pulled his mouth down to hers. “How can you wake up in the morning and leave this?” she whispered against his lips, and he wanted to argue.
To tell her that this was a pleasant diversion, but that tomorrow he still had plans. However, then he felt that bossy tongue in his mouth, her legs wrapping around him, her hips grinding against him, back and forth, and there was no argument in the world that would have kept him from this.
“Inside me. Please,” she urged, and she didn’t have to say anything twice.
He sheathed his cock in a condom, pushed deep inside her and watched as her eyes turned wild. Damn, he loved to see that. The cool, composed doctor stripped bare, lying beneath him. He’d wanted her for so long.
Tight. Wet. Surrounding him.
Each time he moved, her eyes flared open, so startled, so shocked, so…
She looked up at him, pouting breasts, her mouth open and moist. There was such a storm in her expressive dark eyes. Pure pleasure. Pure lust.
He kissed that mouth, his tongue thrusting inside her, his cock thrusting inside her. Her hands grabbed at his back, his ass, urging him on.
Cam began to move faster.
Her fingernails raked over his back; there would be marks, but he didn’t mind. He lifted her hips higher, raising her up, losing himself in that hot, wet channel. As he listened to the slap of skin, the heavy gasps of much-needed air, he forgot about the boat race, forgot about his plans and just focused on this. On her.
“Faster. Need faster,” she ordered.
Cam drove in harder, deeper, back and again, until his body felt like fire. He could feel the climax inside him, feel the juices waiting to flow, and he knew he couldn’t last much longer. But still, he wanted her over, wanted her first, and he curved those pretty legs over his shoulders, staring straight into paradise, watching the joining of their bodies, watching her hips arch higher and higher.
The mantel clock struck midnight. April Fools’.
Cam could only smile.
ENNA WAS GOING
to die. Cardiac arrest. She could feel the overtaxed organ pumping in time with Cam’s powerful thrusts; her body wasn’t going to survive. Desperate, she grabbed a fistful of couch and held on tight, trying to breathe, trying to scream.
She could see him watching her. See the determination in his face, the sheen of sweat that slicked his hair, his chest.
This wasn’t like the other orgasm. All golden, nice and pretty. This was dark and wicked and powerful, and she was going to use dirty words and swear and promise many things that she had never promised to a man before, and…
His chest was heaving. Great, large exertions. A builder’s chest, a builder’s cock.
He was pulling her apart, splitting her in two. Every time she thought she was there, he’d thrust even harder, pushing her further than any human being could possibly survive. The orgasm was there, building between
her legs, in her throat. With one mighty thrust, he tore deep inside her, beyond the womb, beyond the mind, beyond the heart. Jenna shoved a fist in her mouth and swallowed a scream. Finally,
, she came.
AM WAS HEAVY
and large and slightly sweaty, and partially comatose. Jenna had never felt anything so beautiful. She could smell the soapy shampoo that he used, the tangy underpinnings of male sweat and the musky smell of sex.
“That was awesome,” said Jenna, and then giggled. Oh, man, she was regressing.
“More than that.”
“Don’t ask me to move. I can’t.”
“I don’t feel my legs.”
He pinched her on the ass. “Can you feel that?”
“Are you on medication?”
“Nope.” He lifted his face, and flashed her the world’s goofiest grin. “Just one horny man and one very naughty doc.”
Weakly, Jenna lifted a hand and slapped him on the back. There was no hostility, more of I-need-to-touch-your-body tickle. “Cam?”
He took her mouth and started to kiss her. Her muscles began to stir, his cock began to stir. Just when she was sure she couldn’t fully appreciate this, that her muscles were too atrophied to move, he slipped inside her and she began to fully appreciate it. Jenna’s juices began to stir again.
The human body was a miraculous thing.
April 1, 3:00 a.m.
HREE HOURS LATER
, they’d moved from the couch to the floor. Jenna had lost the shoes and the hose, Cam had lost his mind several times over. Part of him knew why she was here, knew that he shouldn’t be all so tongue-wagging happy about it, that he should be plotting his escape to the boat race. But a naked woman should never be ignored. When she was intelligent, ambitious and smoking hot, as well, it made ignoring her impossible.
His randy cock agreed.
Still, in spite of the sex, his watch had stayed on, and eventually he was going to have to move. Midnight was fast approaching; he was going to have to leave.
“Why don’t you lose the watch?”
The way she said it, it was all so innocent, all so completely without motive, but the doc did nothing without motive, without altruistic purpose.
Cam, on the other hand, had no such scruples.
He rolled her underneath him, his mouth latching onto her breast. She loved that, her head falling back, her mouth falling slack, her dark lashes falling low, and Cam was not one to deny a woman her pleasure. First one breast, then another, until she rolled on top of him, forcibly removing his mouth, gasping for breath.
“My turn,” she said, taking both his hands, and pulling them over his head.
He raised his brows. “Kinky.”
“You haven’t seen kinky,” she promised, but he felt the tug at his watchband, and he knew where this particular game was headed.
Cam pulled his hands free and grabbed her up, heading for the bedroom.
“Not quite yet.”
April 1, 3:10 a.m.
, the moon was high in the sky, it was well into April first, and so far there were no disasters. Not unless you counted the collapse of her nervous system. Jenna was now comfortably tucked into the perfectly healthy shoulder of Cam and she wanted to keep it that way. For another nine hours.
All she needed was a few moments alone. “Do you have some ice?”
“Yes. Ice. It’s very hot in here. I’m thinking ice water would be nice.”
“And you want me to get it for you?” he asked.
“That’s the way things work in polite America.”
“Why should I trust you?’
He sighed and lifted his arm, and she kept the triumph from her smile.
“Okay, be right back.” She watched his easy movements with greedy eyes as he slid out of bed. Quite simply, he was magnificent. Long, tight muscles that rippled when he moved. He had a workman’s tan on his arms and around his neck.
She pretended (it wasn’t hard) to ogle him and luxuriate in the sated afterglow of sex (again, not hard) until he left the room. Then she climbed out of bed, unplugging the clock next to the bed, angling it to face the wall.
One down. Now to get the watch.
He seemed excessively attached to that watch, or more likely, he didn’t trust her. Cam was very perceptive that way. But he had underestimated the power of her determination to keep him alive…and sexually active.
She remembered the gleaming gold metal on the band and smiled, sauntering into the bathroom and turning on the shower. “Cam?”
He appeared in the doorway, naked, carrying a glass of frosty ice water. “You want a shower?”
“I think so,” she said and walked into the glass enclosure, letting the warm water blast over her.
“I thought you were hot.”
She reached for the soap and shrugged, watching his eyes skim down her body. “I feel…dirty.”
He swallowed, his face perhaps a little pale. She grabbed the soap and had a fine time getting clean, paying particular attention to her chest.
Diligently she washed, creating great mounds of frothy white bubbles that dripped from her breasts. Her hands stroked and rubbed and tweaked, doing a fine job of ignoring his labored breathing. Then she found the particularly dirty place between her legs and she proceeded to rub.
These were not normal Jenna Ferrar moves. She had an image, a reputation to uphold, but here, with Cam, that all faded away like yesterday’s memories. Tonight, she’d let down her hair, and discovered a part of her personality she didn’t realize she had.
It was the burning look in his eyes that spurred her on, and Jenna knew she should be focused on getting Cam in the shower with her, getting him to take off the
watch, but she was feeling remarkably at ease in this carnal playground.
It had been so long. It had been never.
Her finger slid inside her, stroking her clit, teasing him, and it felt so gloriously freeing. Cam didn’t move, his erection heavy, thick, pulsing for her, and she felt the swelling in her body that understood.
Her lips curved with it, her nipples peaked with it, and her mind was drunk with it.
“Come play with me,” she taunted.
He shook his head. “You’re doing fine.” He moved his hand over his cock, and Jenna gulped.
“Suit yourself,” she said, and adjusting the water velocity, adjusting the angle, letting the hard jets pulsate over her breasts, she began to play in earnest.
Jenna knew her body, knew the way she needed to be touched, knew the exact length of time to get her to orgasm, but this wasn’t functional stress relief. This was pleasing him, seducing him.
The hard lash of the warm water stoked her arousal and she moaned.
With his free hand, Cam reached out, obviously wanting to touch her, and she smiled, her invitation blatant because her puny finger was no substitute for thick, heavy male.
The air was misty, a cloak of almost-privacy kept him away from her, and Jenna stroked harder, feeling the first twinge of orgasm.
It wasn’t enough.
Right now, she didn’t want to be alone. “Please,” she
told him, and watched as he stripped off his watch, stepped into the shower and backed her to the wall. She nearly climbed him in her hurry, and then, she felt it. Felt him.
Thick, heavy, pushing, filling.
His hands wrapped under her ass, and there was nowhere to hold, and he moved hard and fast. She loved the wild look of him, the tense muscles in his jaw, the way his eyes locked on to hers. Jenna could feel the orgasm building inside her, begging for release. And when the dam inside her broke, she called out his name. She had no idea that she could feel this much pleasure, this much trust. Her muscles spasmed around him, and his body froze, his arms like bands around her. For a moment she stayed, impaled and boneless, shudders of satisfaction playing like an echo, again and again.
Cam lifted his head. Tensed.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
Gently he let her go and handed her a towel. His eyes had lost that openness from before. Now he looked trapped and haunted. And the buzzing wouldn’t stop.
Cam’s smile held no trace of humor. His eyes met hers before he looked away.
“It’s the fire alarm. The Curse. I have to get out of here.”
April 1, 4:00 a.m.
FTER HE THREW ON A
pair of jeans, Cam dug around his bedroom, searching for the duffel bag he’d packed earlier, but was now nowhere to be found. Frantic, he dumped the sheets on the floor, and Jenna’s scent was in those sheets, flooding his senses. The buzzing from the building’s fire alarm cleaved through his head like an axe.
Goddamn, he needed to leave. It was April Fools’ and he could feel the tension coiling inside him. This fear was the main reason he took April Fools’ on his own terms, in his own way.
He’d call the car service, and what the hell did they care if it was 4:00 a.m. or 9:00 a.m.? But first he needed to find the damn bag.
It wasn’t under the bed, under his clothes or tossed casually in his closet. It wasn’t anywhere.
While he tore his apartment apart, his skin starting to crawl. He couldn’t look at Jenna. He didn’t want to see her, wrapped only in his towel, watching him with her curiously detached doctor’s eyes.
Watching Cam fall apart.
He’d known this was a mistake. His heart was pound
ing double time in his chest, sweat was pooling on his neck. Why didn’t somebody shut off the alarm?
Her fingers touched the bare skin of his back, and Cam whipped around to face her. He could feel the adrenaline pumping through him, destroying him.
“What?” he asked, hearing the jagged edge to his words. Hating it.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” she said, crisp and cool in a voice meant to soothe.
“My bag was here. I swear. Did you take it?” It was a wholly paranoid question, the fevered imagination of a not-quite-lucid mind. In high-stress situations, people expected jagged nerves and heightened reflexes. In his own apartment, it only made him look weak.
Jenna continued to study him with those nonjudgmental eyes, and in many ways, it was a helluva lot worse.
“I didn’t take it. The watch was pretty much the extent of my derring-do. Oh, and I unplugged the clock.”
It was the first time he noticed the way the normally positioned clock was turned toward the wall. He’d been so caught up in her that he hadn’t noticed. Not that it mattered, and finally—finally—the alarm ground to a halt.
His heart resumed a less frantic pace, but still, the memory of the cackling bleat of the noise remained in his head, and he grabbed a handful of aspirin from a bottle on his nightstand, tilted back his head, swallowing the pills quickly.
“You’re always like this?” she quietly asked.
“No. Only if I wait it out. I don’t like to wait. That’s
why I usually get a jump on it, doing something crazy before the curse gets a jump on me.”
“Cam…” she started, and then stopped. He understood. There wasn’t anything to say.
His vision began to blur, the world starting to circle around him, sucking him in. He stumbled backward, tripping over the bed, and that was all he knew.
T WAS AN HOUR LATER
before Jenna’s blood pressure returned to something close to normal. Now she sat stiffly in his bed, Cam curled in her lap, his eyes blessedly closed. He was asleep.
The idiot was lucky that it was cold medicine he’d grabbed, not something more lethal. Still, at least it brought him the peace he so desperately needed.
Finally she understood.
Her hand stroked through his hair, studying the dark lashes that lay so innocently on his cheek. Like a boy.
The stubble on his jaw proclaimed something more. As did the marks on her breasts.
The buzzer on his apartment rang forty-seven times, his cell beeped incessantly until she turned it off. There was a broken water pipe on the floor above, and the spreading stain on the ceiling was almost hypnotic to watch grow, but Jenna didn’t leave.
She stayed in Cam’s bed, holding him in her arms, stroking his hair and jealously guarding his sleep.
She’d come here expecting to help him, to save him from his devils, but instead, she’d found something new. A piece of herself that she liked, that she enjoyed, that she treasured.
Mentally, she high-fived the loose harlot that she’d discovered inside. Right now, she felt relaxed, alive, desired.
She owed him more than he ever knew. When he woke up, she’d tell him that. For now, she leaned down and pressed a warm kiss to his mouth.
Exhausted from lack of sleep, Jenna closed her eyes, hearing the buzzer ring. Let whoever it was believe that Cam Franklin wasn’t home. Let them think that Cam Franklin was somewhere out risking life and limb.
Right now, there was only one task for her, and it was a big one. While on her watch, Cam was finally going to be safe.