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Authors: Lori Foster

BOOK: Causing Havoc
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Withdrawing, circling, sinking in again.

He tormented her on purpose, but she couldn't bring herself to protest.
"Yes."

"You do like it?"

She nodded. "Yes. I...
Yes."

Watching her, keeping her caught in his probing gaze, Dean pressed into her again. When her hips

lifted off the bed, he said, "Ah. Right there, huh?"

Exactly
right there.

He brought his thumb into play, gliding ever so lightly over her already supersensitized flesh. Again,

then again— until she moved her hips against his hand, trying to increase the pressure.

Voice deep and rough, he asked, "Giving or getting?"

Not understanding, Eve shook her head.

"Do you like being kissed here, Eve?" And he pressed his fingers into her while rol ing his thumb over her in a deliciously provoking rhythm.

A great pulsing started inside her, and she knew she would come again. Very soon.

"Yes," she whispered, trying to hold back, wanting to feel his mouth on her now that he'd mentioned it and gotten her imagination al hyper.

Somehow, without his expression changing at al , she saw his pleasure and a new heightened level

to his own arousal.

"Just what I wanted to hear." He bent over her until his mouth touched her rib cage. As he moved off the bed to kneel on the floor, he trailed his tongue down her abdomen, and then to her navel.

Eve was rigid, her breath held, her heart pounding.

"You smel so damn good." He nipped her hip bone with his teeth. She jumped, then squeezed her

eyes shut and again clenched her hands in the bedding.

The cool silk of Dean's hair drifted over her inner thighs as he opened her legs more, urging her to

bend her knees, to bare herself to him completely. She did so—and held her breath.

For three heartbeats, there was utter stil ness in the room, and Eve knew he was looking at her. It

must not have been enough for him, though, because he parted her with his fingers, too. Just when

she thought she couldn't take another second of his silent scrutiny, he made a smal , rough sound

and she felt his breath, his mouth, his tongue.

The intense intimacy of it drew her tight, making her muscles spasm. She arched, twisting against

him, then away from him because it was almost too much.

Dean obviously didn't know how to be timid about
anything.
He hooked his arms around her legs.

The hold kept her stil so that she couldn't retreat from the overwhelming pleasure. Within seconds,

another orgasm racked her. Dean didn't withdraw.

He continued to eat at her, insatiable, relentless.

Tangling a hand in his hair, Eve moaned. "No more." His tongue moved over her again, and she

cried out. "Dean, it's too much. Please."

Leisurely, he licked his way back up her body to her mouth. He treated her to smal kisses and a few

warm nuzzles that were somehow as erotic as everything that had come before them.

Tears blurred her vision. "I feel shattered."

He raised himself up enough to look at her, his expression tight, dark. Expectant. His jaw clenched.

He cradled her face in his hands.

And in one long, deep thrust, he entered her.

Eve cried out with the shock of it, the pleasure of having him final y fil her.

His gaze burned her. No more smiles. No more teasing. "I'm glad that woke you up." He tilted her chin up and kissed her more thoroughly. Against her lips, he murmured, ' You taste so fine."

She should have been embarrassed—to have done the things they had so soon after meeting and

then to have him comment on that intimacy in such carnal terms.

But... Dean began a slow, easy yet deep rhythm, and somehow, in some outrageous way, Eve felt

herself responding again. Amazing. So amazing that she just couldn't muster up the strength to blush.

"You ... overwhelm me, Dean."

His fingers tunneled further into her hair, and he put his forehead to hers. "Good." He spoke without breaking his slow, driving rhythm. "Because from the second I saw you in that back-ass bar, you've

been under my skin."

Even through the sensual fog sifting around Eve, that sounded nice. Real y nice.

This time, Eve kissed him. When she started to smooth back his hair, he winced, and she saw

stitches high on his forehead. So battered. So strong and capable. So damn sexy. "I'm sorry."

"It's nothing."

Did he make light of al personal injury? Probably. For whatever reason, that seemed very endearing

to her. And sad. And ...

"No you don't," he rasped, and he thrust a little harder, rocking her on the bed, making her catch her breath. "Stay with me, Eve. I need you here."

How did he know her thoughts so easily? "I am here," she answered gently.

Holding her gaze, he lowered one hand to cup her breast. His fingertips played over and around her

puckered nipple before careful y capturing the very tip and applying a tantalizing pressure.

She gasped, not with pain but with a jolt of red hot pleasure.

"Better," he whispered.

Turnabout was fair play. And after climaxing twice, Eve final y felt capable of fol owing through. She

started by wrapping her legs high around his waist. Given the intensity of his gaze, he liked that.

Smiling, she put her hands on his shoulders, away from any bruises or scratches. "Dean?"

His jaw clenched. "Hmmm?"

"I do like oral sex."

For only a brief instant, his eyes closed. "Yeah, I figured that out."

She saw that he was close but holding back. "Giving," she whispered low, "as wel as getting."

An arrested look of pure, hot lust darkened his face. His big body tensed, and he pul ed back, only to

reenter her harder, faster. "Good to know."

He left her breast to scoop a hand under her bottom, tilting her hips up so that each forward thrust

took him impossibly deep.

Her lips parted on a sharp inhalation.

His fingers contracted on her bottom. "Okay?"

She managed a nod. With Dean, she'd just learned things about herself that she hadn't known

before—like how pleasure and discomfort could combine into an irresistible lure.

Her nails bit into his shoulders again.

Dean didn't complain, but he did study her face. "I don't want to hurt you. Eve."

His concern warmed her. He started to ease from her, and she locked her ankles. "You're not. Just

the opposite."

He studied her a moment more, then took her mouth in a hungry, wet kiss. Against her lips, he

murmured, "Good. Now come for me again."

Again? She couldn't possibly. . . .

"Again, Eve."

The position he held her in ensured that each slick glide stroked along her clitoris while also touching

deep inside her, and Eve thought. . . wel , maybe she could.

When his body stiffened, al his muscles bunching taut, she held him, closed her eyes, and joined

him in release.

Some time later, through the blur of exhaustion and satiation, Eve's head began to clear. It had

taken her longer to recuperate this time, but since Dean made no move to leave her, she didn't mind.

Against her breasts, she felt the continued pounding of his heart. He was stil inside her, but not so

much now.

Sweat had melded them together—their stomachs, thighs. Each breath fil ed her lungs with his

scent, intensified from their lovemaking.

Numb, astonished, maybe even thunderstruck, Eve stared into nothingness.

Three times.

Who knew?

Okay, so she'd read about it in books. She thought they were lies because it had never happened to

her. She'd never imagined .. . never dreamed.. ..

One thing was certain—after this, after time with Dean, she'd never be the same. Since Dean

intended to hightail it out of Harmony sooner rather than later, that was a pretty unsettling thought.

Because she knew, she just knew, no other man would ever measure up to him.

Chapter 8

DEAN heard Eve sigh, a long, melodramatic sound that he didn't understand at al . Every time he

started to relax, she started pondering things. What things, he didn't know. But he didn't like it when

she turned too thoughtful and got that wary look in her blue eyes.

Maybe women had come too easily to him before now. He'd never real y thought about it. But looking

back, al the way to when he'd been no more than a teen, he realized that whenever he'd wanted sex,

a wil ing female was easy to find.

He wasn't a man to fool himself, so he had to admit to the possibility that part of his attraction for

Eve was her emotional distance. Physical y she didn't deny him. Even after they'd disagreed about his

sisters, she hadn't shut him out, hadn't used sex to try to manipulate him. It wouldn't have worked

anyway, but... she couldn't have known that.

Was she just too honest to play those games?

Just as Dean didn't like fooling himself, he didn't like brooding. Life for him was clear-cut. Black and

white. Plain and simple.

Or at least it used to be.

Dean lifted his head to look at her, then couldn't resist kissing her. And once he started, he didn't

want to stop. For her part. Eve didn't move, didn't even pucker.

It didn't discourage him. He'd exhausted her. and he knew it. She knew it. too. He deepened his kiss,

his tongue in her mouth, his possession complete when he'd never before thought about anything as

barbaric as possessing a woman.

When he final y felt her stirring, he rol ed to his back beside her. She wasn't ready to give him one-

hundred percent again yet, and that's al he wanted. Al he'd accept.

Letting out a long breath. Dean stared at the ceiling. He felt pleasantly sated, a little sweaty, and. ..

unnerved. A first for him. Sexual encounters did not leave him feeling like this.

Apparently sexual encounters with Eve did.

As he lay there, he could practical y hear her thinking. He could feel her heat. He could smel their

combined scents and the scent of sex.

Damn, but he felt attuned to her, and he didn't real y like it. Now that he'd had her, shouldn't some of

his edgy awareness be gone? Shouldn't he be able to look at her with less .. . appetite?

Dean turned his head to test that theory, but instead of detachment, he noticed Eve's closed eyes,

how her arms rested limply at her sides, palms up. She looked real y soft and warm and cute, despite

her tangled hair and smudged makeup.

More than anything, he wanted to start again, to make her scream a few more times, to show her ...

what?

Running a hand over his face, he contemplated his own obscure motives. He'd real y been the

show-off, when usual y he didn't care about proving anything to anybody.

So he was a hel of a good lover?

So what?

His teeth locked. So he wanted Eve to know it, that's what. He wanted her to remember him, always.

But why? Sure, he liked satisfying a woman. In fact, he insisted on it. Any man worth his salt would

see to a lady's orgasm first. He'd always enjoyed those female sounds of pleasure, feeling the way a

woman would curl her body around him in her excitement, the way satisfaction darkened her eyes.

But he couldn't recal ever pushing a woman so hard before. Hel , if Eve hadn't started talking about

oral sex— which his brain had visual y and graphical y equated to her giving him a blow job—he

probably would have pushed her over the edge a few more times before letting himself come.

Foolish. And irresponsible. And delicious and carnal and. ..

He was stil recovering from his last fight. He wasn't in the best of shape, certainly not in shape for a

sexual marathon.

Yet he wanted her again. Right now.

And short of that, he wanted to touch her. To pul her against his side. Snuggle with her.

Shit.

Dean put his hands behind his head, and he'd damn wel keep them there.

Eve shifted beside him. With a sleepy, luxuriant sound, she rol ed to her side and gazed at him

dreamily.

Dean waited for her to compliment him, to admit to his exceptional lovemaking skil s.

She yawned. "It's getting late."

Dean's brows crunched down at that not-so-subtle hint. The way things had gone, he figured he'd be

welcome for the night.

Damn it, he didn't want Eve to dismiss him. And he sure as hel didn't want to get up and leave—

which was a major first. He general y liked to end the night alone in his own bed, wherever his bed

might be at the time. No commitments. No misunderstandings.

Not that he used women. He took, but he also gave. He was generous. Eve could vouch for that.

But tonight, right now, her bed suited him just fine. He was already comfortable. And damn tired.

Pretending he hadn't gotten Lhc hint. Dean glanced at her. "Tel me something about you."

"Other than my sexual preferences, you mean?"

Despite his exhaustion, his dick stirred, prompting him to say, "Up to you."

She laughed, then put her hand on his chest and stroked lightly over some deep bruises. "I don't

know. You go first."

"I saved an old lady once."

That surprised her.

It damn near floored him.

Bragging? Since when did he brag? Never. He detested braggarts. So why had he brought it up? To

convince Eve that he was some kind of hero?

He felt asinine.

Eve propped herself up on an elbow. "What do you mean, you saved her? Her life?"

Too late to pul back now. "Yeah." Dean shrugged to make light of it. "Not a big deal real y."

"Wow." When he didn't continue, she nudged him. "Tel me."

Disgusted with himself, Dean stared at the ceiling. "She was about sixty-five, I think. One second

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