Love on a Summer Night (14 page)

Zander sparked all the right kind of feelings.

He lightened his tone a bit. “But I can’t deny that some of my feelings for you are of the teenage-boy variety.”

He was always doing that—hedging his bets, dialling back his intensity because he didn’t want to alarm her, maybe. Or maybe even now she was sending mixed signals. Time for that to end.

“I’m a big girl, Zander. I know that I said some things…I was scared. Am still scared, since we’re being honest.” She twisted in his arms, sitting sideways so she could see his face. “But I want this—I want
you
—more than I want to be alone. So you don’t need to make a joke. Unless you’re making me smile, because I like that.”

“Yeah?” His face lit up.

“Yeah. Tell me what you want. I promise I won’t run scared. Not tonight.”

“I want to hold you naked in my arms and make you moan.” He rolled his shoulders and pulled her closer—enough that she had to tilt her head back to still see his serious expression. “In a perfect world, I’d want more.”

“But you’re leaving tomorrow.” The words were hard to say.

But not impossible.

She was stronger than she gave herself credit for.

“I am.”

He’d been brave and said what he wanted. Now it was her turn. She ran her finger along his jaw, down his throat. Watched his Adam’s Apple bob and savoured the heat of his taut skin. Then she buried closer still, hoping that she could get deep enough that
yes
wouldn’t be a possible answer to her next question. “Are we saying goodbye?”

“That’s up to you.” He exhaled roughly. “I don’t want to.”

“But you’re leaving.”

“I’m coming back. Do you want this to be goodbye?”

She shook her head.

“Then it won’t be.”

What would it be, then?
The start of a relationship on hold?

“It doesn’t have to be,” he said stiffly, and she realized with a pang that she’d asked that selfish question out loud.

“I didn’t mean—”

“Shhh,” he murmured, relaxing his body around her. “We’re getting off track from my charming camping seduction.”

She laughed despite her mortification. “Really, Zander, that’s just my inner neurotic girl talking. I don’t have any expectations other than I want to keep building our…friendship.”

He didn’t say anything for a bit. He just held her and touched her, whispered his lips against her ear and down her neck. Finally, when she was well and thoroughly undone, he rolled her onto her back. It had gotten dark while they talked.

“I am your friend, no matter what.” He gave her a stern look, one she could imagine him pointing at children who got too noisy. The fondest kind of stern. It looked good on him. “But I want more. I want to hear your secrets and soothe your frustrations. Cheer your successes and be someone you can lean on.”

“How many friends do you have like that?”

“None.”

She believed him. There was a raw look in his eye that promised while he may have said more than he’d intended—or maybe she was reading clearly between the lines for the first time in days—he was making her promises that he’d hold up. “I’m going to miss you something fierce.”

“Then we’ll just have to make a memory tonight that will keep you warm while I’m gone.”

It was keeping her more than warm right then. He kept talking, in between kisses and caresses, and slowly her shirt got worked up her torso. It felt like the most amazing kind of agony, that slow creep of his palm up her side. An inch at a time, then he’d stop. Squeeze, stroke her with his thumb. Return his attention to her mouth and her neck.

He was making her squirm in the best way possible, and by the time his fingertips grazed her bra, she was aching for more. Her nipples rubbed against the inside of the lace cups, making her already hot and heavy flesh even more so as he cupped her breasts.

Holding her breath, she watched as he ducked his head, his face disappearing in the shadows. His breath drifted over the valley in the middle, then up one swollen slope. Through the lace, he outlined her nipple, tracing the tight nub until she cried out for more.

Then he sucked, right through her bra, making the delicate fabric wet and clingy. When he moved to the other side, the warm summer night’s breeze was a second tongue, lapping at her exposed body.

He settled between her legs, not grinding—just there. Hard and ready. More teasing.

She was going to explode from the delayed gratification. Lifting her hips, she took on the task of remedying that herself.

At the first roll of her hips, Zander paused his worship of her breasts. At the second, he redoubled his efforts, helping her get right to the brink—then he reared up and reached for the waistband of her jeans.

Oh no.

She wanted to be naked with Zander more than anything else in the world.

But even under the cover of darkness, she realized she wasn’t quite ready for Zander to
see
her naked.

She grabbed at his wrists and tried to pull him back down on top of her. Maybe they could just dry hump. That had been hotter than it sounded. It had been hotter than her fantasies, and she was a writer with a pretty expansive vocabulary and a deep understanding of the dirty side of the Internet.

He wouldn’t be deterred. His fingers slid beneath her waistband, making her soft tummy quiver, and not in a good way. Okay, mostly a good way with just an edge of fear. But she still pushed at his hands.

He gave her an amused look. “Stop batting my hands away. I want to feel it when you come.”

She sighed, suddenly nervous, and he gave her another look, this time one of dawning awareness. She tipped her head back. The stars were so bright tonight. “I’ve got battle scars,” she whispered. “Stretch marks and a c-section incision that didn’t heal properly. You’ve only seen the good bits.”

Zander settled back on the blanket beside her and nuzzled into her neck. “Seriously? You don’t think I’ve got scars? Let’s go toe to toe.”

“Yours are different.” He was beautiful. All sculpted muscle and delicious shadows. “New plan. I’m going to touch you.”

“Be my guest.” His voice was low and rough, like a tumble of falling rocks.
Danger
, her heart thumped. He rolled away from her and pulled off his t-shirt, baring the tattoos that had caused her so much anxiety just a few days earlier. The flickering light from the fire caught the edge of a raised scar on his rib cage, and she sucked in a breath as she reached out and traced the knotted tissue that looked suspiciously like a slash in his skin.

“What happened?” she asked in a quick rush, then shook her head. “No. I don’t think I want to know.”

“You don’t. But it’s okay, I’m alive and here. That’s all that matters.”

“Hardly,” she murmured as she let her fingers rove over his torso. Under her touch, his skin pebbled and his muscles flexed. His gaze was riveted on her face, like he couldn’t believe they were doing this. That didn’t make any sense. She was the lucky one, getting free reign to explore his perfect body. She circled her index finger around three faint white lines on his shoulder. “This looks older.”

“Bike accident when I was a kid. Flew over the handle bars and landed in some gravel, shoulder first.” Lifting his right arm over his head, he distracted her with his flexing biceps, and she didn’t notice his other arm scooping her by the hips and hauling her on top of his body. “Come here.”

Laughing, she kissed his chin. “I’m right here, no need to manhandle me.”

“Oh, there’s need.”
 

Right. She could feel his need squarely pressed against her pelvis now. It matched the heat flaring inside her, making her wet and achy.
 

“But first…” he wiggled his raised arm. “Keep going. We’re looking at all my horrible flaws.”

She couldn’t really see his arm anymore. He was holding her too close, and his gaze was too piercing. Too hot and demanding of kisses. “You don’t have any flaws,” she breathed, brushing her lips against his. “You’re perfect.”

“You only see the good parts, babe.” He sucked her lower lip between his, licking the captured flesh in a teasing motion before pulling her closer for a deeper kiss. By the time they broke apart, she was panting for more. “Look at my stretch marks.”

She stared at him dumbly for a second. “What?”

He laughed, his entire body shaking beneath her. “On my arm.”

Tipping her head sideways, she looked closely at the underside of his upper arm. Barely visible thin white ribbons ran from the top of his curved biceps muscle into the dark, silky hair in his armpit. “Oh, but those are barely—”

He rolled her quickly onto her back, muffling her shriek with a hungry, demanding kiss. “Barely noticeable? Not what you notice when you look at me? Trust me, babe, I only see the good parts on you, too.”

— —
 

She sighed and dug her nails lightly into his back, her eyelashes softly fluttering as she breathed his name.

A surge of emotion overtook Zander and his throat felt thick as he kept talking.

“Let me in, babe. Let me make you feel good.” She’d had her turn. Now he wanted to explore every last perfect inch of her body, as long as she wanted him to. “Tell me to stop and I will. Any time, no questions asked. But I want you, Faith. I want to make you feel so good you forget everything else for tonight.”
 

He lifted his head just enough to bring her eyes into focus. He liked being so close that everything was blurry and they shared the same air, but for this, he needed to know he wasn’t crossing a line.

“Yes.” She smiled tremulously as she reached for the button on her jeans. The glint of steel balls grabbed his attention. Her other two piercings were both in her navel, and that was hot as hell.

“Hang on,” he whispered, covering her hands with his. He ghosted his lips around the twin silver barbells, one through the skin above her belly button, the other right below. “How did I miss these?”

He glanced up at her, but it was a rhetorical question. She gave him a shaky smile.

“Any more?”

She laughed and shook her head. He pressed his mouth more firmly into the soft skin below the piercings, right above her waistband. It felt like heaven against his lips. There wasn’t an inch of her body that didn’t turn him on.

“Let me in, Faith,” he finally rumbled, releasing her hands. He could worship every inch of her again once they were both naked.

The rasp of her fly was the sexiest sound he could imagine, and he slid his hands around her hips, beneath the denim, helping her strip down to her lace panties.

His girl wore lace beneath her distressed-by-real-life jeans. The bra had been gorgeous, but somehow he hadn’t registered it as an actual lingerie set until he saw the bottoms.

Moving lower, he brushed his mouth over the lace that hid the heart of her, then slid his palms under her gorgeous ass and lifted her bottom. He traced her sex through the panties, loving the way she bucked her hips as he reached her clit. She was so responsive. So sexy.

And all his, at least for tonight.

He kissed her harder there, then lower, breathing in her musky sweetness, letting it fill his head and take him to a more primal place. His lips moved along the edge of the fabric, then onto the inside of her thigh. She shivered when he grazed the softness there with his teeth, a barely whispered plea the only sound in the night air.

“More…”

Oh, he’d give her more. He nipped her again, then sucked on the skin, loving it with his tongue. It would probably leave a mark she’d see for a few days.

Nothing compared to the mark she was leaving on his heart.

Fuck, he needed more of her. His pulse hammering hard, he jerked her underwear to the side and dove back in, licking her up and down until she was groaning his name over and over again.

He reached down and unbuttoned his jeans, shoving them down his hips and kicking them off into the sand in the darkness beyond their little world of blanket and bonfire. A woodland creature could wander off with them for all he cared right now. His cock throbbed to be inside her, but when that happened, it wouldn’t take long until he exploded, and she needed to do that first. On his tongue.

He squeezed the back of her thighs, spreading her wider still as he stroked his hands to her knees then back up again. All the way to her core. He couldn’t get enough of touching and tasting her, because she was a goddess. Soft curves. Wet heat. Responsive as fuck. He looked up at her through hooded eyes. One hand was braced against the blanket as she arched her back.

The other was inside her bra, playing with one of her nipples.

He just about died.

“You’re so beautiful,” he rasped, and when she looked at him, her lips parted and swollen, he knew that moment would be burned into his memory so he could replay it again and again.

“You can tell me that whenever you want, soldier,” she whispered.

He responded by sliding a finger inside her. “Beautiful,” he repeated as she gasped, holding his gaze. “So tight. God, that's beautiful, Faith. So greedy for my fingers.”

He didn’t care if he was repeating himself. It deserved to be repeated. He’d send her text messages every day reminding her of this gift she’d given him. This connection.

“It's been a while,” she panted, half-laughing. But she was mostly dazed, spun-out on desire, and Zander was so fucking proud he did that to her. Could give that to her.

“How long?” He growled the question, not really wanting to know the answer, because he wanted to be the only person who could do this to her.

She blinked at him, and he knew the answer before she said it—and he was glad he’d asked. “Since Greg.”

“Oh, fuck.” His heart cracked and he surged up her body, not stopping his ministrations to her most sensitive parts as he kissed her. “I’m sorry. I'm rushing you. I thought…I mean, you said you'd dated.”

A lazy, amused smile crept across her face as she nuzzled him. “All aborted efforts. I wasn't ready then. I am now. I'm ready for you.”

She felt more than ready. Slick and swollen. He still hadn’t made her come, but now he needed to be inside her more than he needed to be a sex god. He added another finger, stretching her with two digits. He teased her entrance with a third, but she whimpered, so he eased off.