Hotblooded (19 page)

The best part was that she didn’t feel slutty—even contemplating all of the things she wanted to do to and with him. She felt wanted, desired, beautiful, confident and…as if she was exactly where she was supposed to be.

She wasn’t going to waste a second of this.

She stepped back until he was just beyond arm’s reach. “Take off your clothes.”

He paused, then gave her a smile and began freeing the buttons on his shirt.

She backed up and sat on the edge of the bed, crossed her legs, leaned back bracing her hands on the mattress and said, “And take your time, sugar. I want to savor this.”

“I’ll give you something to savor,” he growled and didn’t slow a bit. He stripped the shirt off and pulled the soft gray shirt underneath over his head, tossing them both away.

Brooke let her eyes roam over him hungrily. He was perfect. Defined muscles, light hair dusting his chest and stomach, smooth tan skin. She licked her lips.

He watched her intently as his hands went to his fly, pulling the button open and lowering the zipper. It was clear that he was as aroused as she was and she felt her chest grow tight anticipating seeing all of him for the first time. The denim parted and slid over his hips then dropped to the floor. He kicked the jeans out of the way but her eyes were riveted on the white cotton briefs and the amazing length of the bulge they contained.

Then he dropped them too and she had to take a deep breath.

She finally lifted her gaze to his. He was just watching her. “Now what,
sugar
?” he asked.

She knew exactly what she wanted. She’d been with a handful of men but she’d never been free to explore, free to follow her urges, free to use him to satisfy all of her curiosity and desires.

With Jack she felt free. Not guilt, no consequences, no fears. She stood. “Sit down.”

He raised an eyebrow but followed her direction, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “Your turn. Need a little more skin from you.”

“Not yet.”

His cock stood straight up, ready for her, and she knew which urge she was going with first. She wasn’t undressing right now. Instead, she went to her knees in front of him and ran her hands up his thighs. He shuddered. “Brooke…”

“This is what I need, Jack.” She studied his cock—the color, the shape. She hadn’t had a chance to really take her time like this with anyone before, and she was enjoying being up close and personal.

“I don’t—”

She leaned in and licked the tip.

Jack swore, his hips jerking. She looked up at him. The expression on his face was almost pained. But she knew better. She did it again, taking more time, running her tongue around the tip and then sucking slightly.

He groaned and his hand came up to cup the back of her head. She took more of him in, running her tongue down the front surface, sucking as she came back up.

“Brooke, God, I can’t—”

She wasn’t listening to him. He could and he would. He was here for her. He’d said so. And she wasn’t nearly done with him yet.

She wrapped her hand around the base of his shaft, sliding up and down, watching his face. He was breathing raggedly, one hand still on her head, the other fisted in the bed’s comforter.

Eyes on his, she slid her hand down and cupped his balls. He stared into her eyes as his hips lifted and his breath escaped with a hiss.

Oh yeah, she loved this. She took him in her mouth again, moving her hand and her tongue, making him moan. Finally she lifted her head. He looked like he was having a hard time sitting still. But he was doing it. For her.

“Don’t move,” she told him. She got to her feet and reached back for the dress’s zipper.

She felt the touch of the room’s air as the fabric separated over her shoulder blades then fell forward from her shoulders and down to her waist.

The heat in Jack’s eyes made her heart pound as he looked at her. He didn’t say anything and definitely didn’t seem to be in a hurry. She glanced down, wondering what he found so fascinating.

She blushed as she realized that a white bra wasn’t very sexy. She had on white panties too. But Jack didn’t seem to care. He was watching her as if he had never seen anything so beautiful. Her nipples responded, tightening and straining against the silky cups. She wasn’t as ample as her mother, but she was far from flat-chested.

She wiggled her hips and the dress fell to the floor.

He sucked in a quick breath and she smiled. The panties had lace and were high cut on the legs, but they dipped below her belly button and were simple white satin.

“Brooke,” he said hoarsely.

“Yes?” she asked.

“Come here.”

The bra hooked in the front and she undid the clasp as she put a knee on the mattress beside his thigh. He was watching raptly as she peeled back first one cup, then the other. He seemed to hold his breath as she slipped the thin straps from her shoulders and dropped the bra on the floor. Then she braced a hand on his hard stomach, lifting her other knee onto the mattress and sliding up until she straddled his hips.

Lord, she didn’t even bat an eye, Jack thought. She just climbed on. In this position, without panties in the way one good thrust would have embedded him fully right where he was aching to be.

“You’re gorgeous,” he told her before letting his eyes drop and fully drink in the sight of her bare breasts.

She just let him stare too. There was no uncomfortable shifting or trying to cover up or blushing. She just watched him watch her.

He didn’t realize she’d been holding her weight up off of him with her legs until she relaxed and her pelvis settled fully on his. They both groaned as her soft, hot center met his hard flesh.

That was it. Enough playing around. He wrapped his arms around her to keep her where he wanted her, then took one of those teasing little nipples into his mouth. He reveled in her surprised gasp, which turned to an aroused moan as his tongue ran over and over the turgid tip.

His thumb mimicked his tongue’s actions on her other nipple and her head fell back. He felt her hair brush the back of the hand he had splayed between her shoulder blades, supporting her body against his mouth.

“Jack,” she whispered and her voice caught on what sounded like a sob.

He took in her flushed skin, the dazed look she gave him and her panting breaths and knew he couldn’t wait much longer.

He wanted her wild and wanton, begging for release. She was getting close.

He separated his knees slightly, bringing her thighs apart enough that his hand could reach between them.

The silk of her panties was hot, her response to him obvious and enough to make him grow harder, nearly to the point of pain.

He watched her face as he traced a finger along the edge of the panties that rested against her left cheek. She was holding her breath, but also his gaze. She watched him, unabashedly, shuddering as his hand moved closer to her wet heat.

He steadily pressed his finger inward and as his finger slid into her silkiness she let out the breath and shifted her hips, drawing him deeper.

Damn.

She rocked her pelvis against his hand, wordlessly asking for more.

Gladly.

He caught her mouth in a kiss that quickly turned carnal as he stroked her intimately, harder and faster, following her body language. She gripped his shoulders and lifted herself, then lowered her hips again against his hand. She repeated the motion and he ripped his mouth from hers. He wanted to watch her orgasm.

Instead she surprised him again by reaching for his erection and pressing toward it.

“Move your hand,” she said through gritted teeth.

He didn’t. “You still have panties on.”

“Don’t care.” She stroked him and he groaned.

“Condom,” he managed, pointing toward the bedside table.

“Birth control for cramps,” she said.

That worked for him. He withdrew his fingers and she immediately sank down on his cock, taking him deep.

They gasped together and paused, just feeling, adjusting, soaking it all in.

“Lie back,” she instructed.

He did, propping on his elbows, the shift causing him to surge deeper.

“Like that,” she breathed. Then she moved.

She lifted and lowered herself on him again. The sight was erotic to say the least. Her hair was free, her lipstick definitely smudged, her breasts bounced as she moved and her body held him in a tight, hot glove that seemed to be trying to pull everything from him at once.

He concentrated on breathing and fighting the urge to thrust. He let her ride him, loving that she was taking charge, loving the look on her face. She set the pace and he just held on, relishing every slide and glide. The friction was perfect, the heat was amazing, the fit like it was custom-made.

Heaven.

He held back from arching up into her, but barely. He let her dictate the rhythm until she moaned, “Jack,” and he knew she needed more.

With one hand he pulled her panties out of the way and with the other took her hand and guided it to her clit. “Right here, honey.” Her middle finger pressed and circled above where their bodies were joined and her breathing grew more ragged.

“Just like that, Brooke. I want to feel you come.” How he was holding on, he had no idea, but it mattered. He wanted her to let go on him, with him.

“I need you Jack. Do…something.”

He smiled in spite of the tension that had his entire body wound tight. He arched slightly.

“More. Of. That,” she breathed. She lifted her hand to her breast, circling the nipple.

“If you keep doing more of that,” he said.

She focused on his face with a sexy smile. She tugged on her nipple and pressed on her clit. He thrust up again and they both groaned.

“I want…”

“I know.” He gripped her hips, thrust up into her deep and perfectly.

“Yes. More.”

He wanted to go forever but after six more thrusts they were already thundering toward the intense climaxes that swept over them a moment later.

When he slumped back he took her with him, her cheek against his chest.

They lay unmoving for several minutes.

Jack wondered if she’d fallen asleep, but as he stroked his hands down her back, she lifted her head and gave him a languid smile.

“So, you really are good at everything.”

Surprised, he laughed. “I think that was more you than me.”

“Hmm.” She stretched and rolled to the side, reminding him of a contented cat who’d just been scratched under the chin. “Well, I’m no expert, but I can’t see much room for improvement. That was awesome.”

He grinned. She was as blatant in her appreciation as she had been in seeking pleasure.

She rolled to the edge of the bed and got to her feet as he sat up and watched her retrieve her bra. He appreciated the view as she adjusted her breasts in the cups before she stepped into her dress and turned to him, lifting her hair. “Could you zip me up?” she asked.

He stood and pulled the zipper up before truly registering she was now dressed. The exact opposite of how he’d intended to keep her all night.

“You better tell me you’re going out for food,” he said, keeping his voice mild.

She slipped on a shoe and laughed lightly. “No, I’m going home.”

“Because you want to see if we’re as good in your bed?” he asked, frowning deeply as he waited for her answer. That he was sure he was going to hate.

She smiled and shook her head. “It’s after ten.”

“What is going on?” he demanded. “You’re leaving?”

She glanced at the clock next to the bed. “It’s late. I need to go.”

“Or your car turns back into a pumpkin?”

She slipped on her other shoe. “People will notice and talk.”

“About what?”

“Us, and the fact that my car was here all night.”

He ripped the sheet from the bed, not willing to fight with her while he was naked. He wrapped the sheet around his waist, tucked it securely and crossed his arms. “And what would they say?”

“That I spent the night,” she said impatiently.

“And if you did spend the night, that would be true.”

“And they would assume we slept together.”

“Which we did—whether your car stays here all night or not.”

She smiled a little sadly and reached up to touch his cheek. “Tonight was perfect. I’m happy for the first time in a really long time. Traditionally, Honey Creek ruins perfect and happy for me. I just don’t want to share this with them. Not tonight. I can’t risk it.”

He caught her hand and pressed his lips to her palm. She sucked in a quick breath.

“Share it with me.”

She rose up on tiptoe and kissed him firmly on the mouth. “Goodnight, Jack.”

Then she was gone and he had to wonder, as he stared at his empty room and even emptier bed, if this was how Prince Charming had felt when he was left holding only a glass slipper and a memory.

Brooke glared at the dome light that came on, like a spotlight, as she unlocked her car. She rushed to get in and slam the door to shut if off. Once the interior was dark again she allowed herself one long, deep breath.

She’d managed to get out of Jack’s room without blurting,
I love you
.

She leaned forward and rested her forehead on the top of the steering wheel.

It had been close. Really close. And how could she not love him?

But she couldn’t tell him.

He had blown into her life like a refreshing breeze… Brooke frowned at the metaphor. He’d actually blown in like a tornado. But he’d come suddenly and she had no reason to believe he wouldn’t leave just as suddenly.

Which would really be for the best. She had a crush on him because he made her feel things she’d never felt before. It was just simple infatuation. If she let herself act on it—well, beyond the actions she’d taken a little while ago in his room—she would look and feel ridiculous when he reminded her he was only here to help her out temporarily. And he’d helped her all right. He’d restored her belief that she really was still a woman, in every sense of the word.

And honestly—and in the dark solitude of her car she could be honest—that was what it boiled down to. Jack was the first man to make her feel lovable. So, she’d transferred that delight back to him and convinced herself that she loved him.