Fall Into Me (10 page)

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Authors: Linda Winfree

Tags: #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Romance, #General

BOOK: Fall Into Me
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“Because I want you to get that I’m not him.” His teeth scraped at her earlobe. “It’s not going to be about ten minutes in the missionary position, with a couple of quick feels as foreplay. Or maybe having you on top when the mood is adventurous.”

Shock slid over her and she turned her head. “How did you—”

“He looks the type.” His fingers moved in a soft fret over her skin, but his hands didn’t change position. “A little too straight arrow to inspire a woman like you.”

“Like me?” With her head turned toward him, she could see their shadowy reflections in the old mirror above her dresser, light glimmering over her pale nudity while he almost loomed behind her, fully clothed, his face taut with desire.

The easygoing almost-too-pretty-boy was gone. In his place was all male, all man, set on ravaging her. A visceral thrill moved over her. “What do you mean, a woman like me?”

“One who takes charge and likes to make things happen.” He nipped at her ear once more. “One who knows what she wants. You do, don’t you, baby? You know what you want me to do to you.”

Oh Lord, did she. The picture that had repeated in her brain over and over flashed through her mind—her hands wrapped around the footboard, his tall body behind hers, having him all over her while he drove into her again and again.

“Yes.” Her raw whisper tore from her throat.

“Then show me.” All laughter had disappeared from his deep voice. “Make me give you what you want.”

Chapter Seven
She wrapped trembling fingers around his wrists. Under her touch, his skin was hot, and crisp hair abraded her fingertips. She closed her eyes, his “make me give you what you want” beating in her head. What did she want?

Him, all over her. His hands, playing her body the way he did a guitar.

On a deep inhale, she spread his arms, moving one palm up to her breasts, sliding his other hand to the juncture of her thighs. He caught his breath, thighs brushing her butt, his fingers tightening. Roughened fingertips swept over her nipple.

“Oh yeah, baby.” His murmur rushed over her ear. “Make me give it to you. Do you know how freakin’ sexy that is?”

Heat flushed her face, her momentary embarrassment soon lost to the sensation sizzling out from his soft tweaking at her nipple. His other hand flexed beneath her easy hold, fingers sliding over intimate folds. “Show me how to touch you.”

Eyes closed tight, she pressed his palm over her mound, urging his fingers into the moisture between her legs. Soon, he’d picked up the rhythm she set, plunging two fingers inside her while the heel of his hand ground against her clit. At her breast, he plucked at her nipple, rolling and teasing the hard flesh. Tense desire bloomed low in her belly, growing, uncurling, heating her body. A moan slipped from between her lips.

She released his wrists and clutched the sides of his thighs, afraid her knees would give out. He nipped and suckled a path from her ear, down her neck, across her shoulder. “You feel so good, Angel, so hot and soft…damn, I love how soft you are, all over…”

His gravelly voice only added to the irresistible sensation swirling through her. She pressed her spine against his front, even the oft-washed denim of his jeans a sensual torture against her sensitized body. The exquisite pressure swelled and she dug into his legs, a hard shudder moving over her. “Troy Lee, I’m going to come.”

His lips fastened on the area between her neck and shoulder for one intense second. She bowed, straining against his hand. “Troy Lee—”

“I want to taste you.” He moved with an agility and speed that froze her already reluctant lungs. Using one arm about her waist, he lifted her easily to the bed, her back still to him, and on her knees, she grasped at the footboard, old and worn smooth by time, to steady herself. Her body buzzed and tingled, on the edge of climax, and she sucked in a shaky breath. He pumped his fingers inside her, a slow in-and-out slide, and his other hand spread across her stomach, tilting her to him, the soft cotton of his T-shirt rubbing against her thigh. The next second his mouth was on her, his tongue a hot, wet rasp over her clit, slipping, gliding, skimming. Every muscle she possessed went screaming taut and she arched into him, seeking more of his hands, more of his mouth, more of him.

“You’re fantastic.” He muttered the words, and moist, heated breath rushed over her, his thumb brushing along her dripping folds. He swirled his tongue around the tiny trove of nerve endings, painful pleasure clenching her body tighter. “I can’t get enough of you, don’t want to get enough of you.”

She danced along the sharp edge of an orgasm, not quite falling over, despite the dual torment of his mouth and fingers. “I want you to fuck me.”

Had those words actually come from her lips? She’d never said them before. In her world, good girls, even ones who flirted with the edges of scandal, who got themselves talked about, didn’t say them, certainly didn’t tremble and throb and burn for him to follow through.

His raw inhale chafed through her and he was gone, leaving her gripping the bed for dear life, eyes closed, afraid of what she’d done with those words. Fabric rustled, twin thuds hit her floor. Plastic crackled and he hissed in a breath before his large hand covered her again, sliding over the wet flesh.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this.” His dark whisper flowed over her ears, hips bumping hers, the thick ridge of his erection rubbing along the damp throbbing between her legs. The head nudged at her clit, the warmth of his palm and fingers spreading across her lower stomach, combining with the incredible heat of his body at her back. “How long I’ve wanted you.”

“Troy Lee, please.” She pushed against him, wriggling her butt into the cradle of his pelvis. “Stop teasing.”

“Make me.” Another torturous glide between her thighs. He brushed his nose up her spine, stopping to drop a hard kiss on her shoulder. “Tell me what you want. I want to hear you say it again.”

“I can’t.” She tingled all over, her skin burning, her breasts aching with each sway.

“Angel.” He traced whirls over her belly, up her ribcage to roll one begging nipple between his damp thumb and forefinger. The clean, sharp note of arousal invaded her nose, their scents all tangled together, making her only want more. Teeth scraped her shoulder, leaving prickles of pain and shivers of passion in their wake. “Make me give you what you want.”

She shifted, trying to place the head of his erection at the opening of her body. His palm flattened against her stomach and he held her still.

“No. Tell me. Make me give it to you.”

“Fuck me.” She lifted heavy lids and tightened her slippery hold on the footboard. Moistening her lips with the tip of her tongue, she swallowed. “Make love to me.”

His forehead rested against her shoulder, only long enough for her to have an impression of warm, damp skin. He moved, hips canted into hers, and pressing forward, he took her, tunneling each delicious inch of hardness into her in a deep, luscious slide.

“Oh.” The breathy sigh fell from her lips as her body stretched, adjusted, clung to him.

“God.” His voice was broken, strangled. With his hand spread across her belly, fingers resting in the curls atop her mons, he pulled back and bore forward again, easy and slow. “You’re so soft, hot and soft and…damn, you’re wet. It’s so good, baby, love how you feel around me.”

“More,” she whimpered on a shaky moan. “Harder.”

“I thought about this.” He thrust, driving deeper, harder into her, his tempo increasing. His words emerged as harsh gasps, punctuating his strokes. “About what it would be like to be inside you, having you come around me, but this is so much better, Angel, so much more than what I imagined.” He licked at her back, nibbling, suckling. “I want you to come for me. I want to feel you coming all over me.”

She ground into him, taking everything as he lunged over her in a hard, even rhythm. With every forward motion, his scrotum tapped into her clit, her lips, teasing, propelling her closer to climax. Cupping her belly, he used the pressure to pull her more fully into his momentum. She met him, twisting her swollen sex into each rolling shove of his hips.

“Oh yeah, that’s it, baby.” He fastened his mouth on the sensitive area where her shoulder and neck met. “Take me, Angel. Fuck me, sweetheart.”

The rough growl put her over the edge, pleasure searing into shards that pierced her whole body, forcing a scream from her throat, blanking her mind. Sweat dripped from his neck, hitting her back, and he plunged harder against her, callused fingertips strumming further notes of pleasure at her clitoris. She stiffened as the arousal pitched in her body again, rising to a sharper, razoring climax. On a raw gasp, she slammed down on him, and his hold tightened to a painful level. A hoarse shout spilled from his throat, vibrating over her skin, and he pushed higher into her, hardness pulsing within her.

Huffing for oxygen that simply wasn’t there, she melted in his arms. He spun them to the mattress, his chest heaving beneath her. She threw out her arms above her head, her body one big live wire, teeming and buzzing with electricity.

Oh Lord. She’d never…not twice…well, twice in one night, but not twice during one bout…

His arms tightened about her and he rubbed his face against her shoulder. His humming sigh, redolent with male satiation, puffed over her skin. A pure, sweet emotion trembled in her, threatening to bring tears to her eyes. She liked this, being with him this way. He raised onto his elbows and peppered light kisses across her collarbone.

“Bathroom?” He sounded winded, as if he’d run several miles and was panting for breath.

Not possessing the capacity of speech, she lifted a languid hand and pointed toward the back of the house.

“Be right back.” He brushed his mouth over her shoulder and rolled from the bed.

A hand over her thundering heart, she stared at the ceiling and tried to gather her thoughts, her wits, herself. Laughter bubbled up from her throat. She’d thought Mark Cook was hell on wheels in bed? Shoot. Jim didn’t even make it into the starting lane of this comparison. She pushed damp hair away from her forehead. If she’d known it was going to be like this between them, she’d have tossed his long, lean self on that prep table in her kitchen two weeks ago.

The mattress dipped and he sprawled out beside her. He propped an elbow on either side of her neck and kissed her, his skin hot and damp with perspiration, before he flipped to his back, their sides perfectly aligned to touch shoulder to knee. He stretched with an elaborate groan of satisfaction.

She poked his side. “You have a bad-boy side hiding under that deputy’s uniform, don’t you, Troy Lee?”

One corner of his mouth hitched up. “You like it?”

“Um, yeah.” She flattened her hand on his abdomen, relishing the feel of hard muscle there. Her body quivered with aftershocks of his possession, a feminine soreness pulsing between her legs. She could smell him on her, smell herself on him. “You could say that.”

A chuckle vibrated under her fingers and he closed his eyes. “I’m bringing you fortune cookies more often, that’s for damn sure.”

Laughter fizzed in her once more, ending in a replete sigh. After several silent moments, Troy Lee rolled to his side and levered up on an elbow. His gaze lingered on her face, trailed down her throat, caressed the length of her legs and back again. Angel squashed the instinct to squirm under that look, with its note of worshipfulness. Something about the glint in his blue eyes spoke of long nights spent thinking of her, of fantasies come true beyond imagining. That glint made her buzz and burn all over again.

Silent, he touched her jaw with a single finger, letting the rough pad take the same journey his gaze had. The sense of being cherished, worshipped deepened. She couldn’t recall anyone ever looking at her, touching her, with such reverence. With his fingertip, he drew a line up her stomach, circled the silhouette of one breast, then the other. Under the simple feathering caress, her nipples tightened, breasts feeling more sensitive to touch than she ever remembered, and a rush of desire became a sweet pang low in her belly, the tender flesh between her thighs swollen and wanting.

She swallowed and darted her tongue out to moisten her bottom lip. “Are you trying to start something, Troy Lee?”

In a slow, languorous movement, his gaze lifted to hers, passion and emotion shining in the blue depths. “I think we started something weeks ago, something I don’t want to see end.”

He couldn’t say these things, couldn’t dangle the temptation of finally being or finding something more before her. “Troy Lee—”

“Don’t. I told you, no holding back, Angel.” The maddening digit found the hollow of her collarbone, slid to the wild pulse in her throat, shaped her bottom lip. “Baby, do you really think we were ever just about fun and a good time?”

She tried to laugh and failed. “What about no expectations?”

“Sweetheart, you are so much more than anything I ever expected, I can’t stand it.”

“I’m scared.” She wished the too-revealing words unsaid as soon as she blurted them. “Afraid of not being enough—”

“Stop.”

“—of wanting this too much, letting myself fall, then losing it, losing you.”

“Stop.” He pressed his finger against her lips. “I already told you, I’m so yours it isn’t funny. You won’t lose me.”

She wanted to let go and believe, but it was still too soon. Jim’s broken promises still rang in her head, and even if he didn’t matter, the reality of those should slow her down.

“You have the most expressive face.” He trailed a finger over her cheekbone. “Comparing me to Jim, weren’t you, wondering if you could trust me?”

The quiet words shamed her. “I realize you’re not him, Troy Lee, but I don’t know you yet, not really.”

“Probably better than you think.” One corner of his mouth lifted. “Why didn’t you ever marry him?”

How weird was this, to lie naked with the man who’d just taken her in the wildest way and have him ask why her last long-term relationship had failed. She started to sit up, looking for her pajamas, her robe, anything. “The right time just never came along.”

With a gentle hand on her chest, he pushed her back to the bed. He curved that palm around the side of her breast. “You were with him how long?”

She swallowed, gaze trained on the ceiling. “Since I was eighteen.”

“So it wasn’t a matter of finding the right time.” He laid his hand over her heart. “In here, you knew he was the wrong man.”

“I suppose you’re going to tell me you’re the right one and I was waiting for you.”

The fabulous grin she loved spread across his face. “You said it, Angel baby, I didn’t.”

“Oh, you…” She rolled over to pounce on him in retaliation. Still grinning, he dragged her down for a long kiss, his arm across her shoulder keeping her clamped to him while he plundered her mouth.

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