Inside Out (15 page)

Shane laughed and went into the bathroom to fetch a towel for her. When she grabbed for it, he pulled her close and rubbed her hair.

“Let’s get you out of these clothes, and I’ll give you the tour,” he said and took her hand to guide her upstairs to the cream-and-rose guestroom, the largest room facing the sea and the most beautiful. But it wasn’t
their
bedroom. Olivia’s heart sank. What did she expect him to do, take a woman like Hunter, someone he’d barely known two weeks and put her up in the marital bedroom he’d shared for over ten years with his wife?

“Hey, why the face? Don’t you like it?” he whispered, caressing a tear on her cheek.

Olivia swiped at it and smiled. “It’s lovely, Shane. Thank you. Do you mind if I freshen up?”

He walked past her into the room. “En suite. Seeing as you like pink.”

“Actually, it’s powder rose.” She sniffed and chuckled.

He never got his colors right. Shane bowed out with an adorable grin and closed the door behind him. Olivia turned to the mirror. Last time she had looked in this particular one, it gave back another reflection. The reflection of a poor, frustrated, and inhibited woman who didn’t know how to love. Now she couldn’t keep this love inside her and it threatened to spill out of every pore.
Shane! How can I get you back?

When she’d dried off and changed, Shane led her downstairs—bypassing his bedroom, she noticed—into the kitchen she’d designed along with Thompson’s joinery company down the road.

All white, Shaker style, with large, black granite countertops and a butler’s sink, it was what she’d always wanted. A large window faced the beach. The floors were Welsh slate and had cost them an arm and a leg, as they’d refused to settle for the cheaper Chinese option.

“Ooh, lovely,” she cooed for his benefit and he nodded.

“Olivia designed it. She was so proud. Did an excellent job. She had amazing taste. She—” He cut himself short, and Olivia saw a muscle in his jaw twitch as he turned to go.

Her throat contracted as for the first time she grasped how difficult it must be for him as well.

“Come and look at the living room,” he beckoned, his voice slightly lighter.

Shane stopped in front of the fireplace in the center of the living area. Elegance reigned in a subtle manner in hues of cream, white, duck egg, and dark wood. She loved the place with a passion. Like her own child. Being in her own home and pretending not to cherish every inch of it—and of Shane as well—it was going to be a long weekend.

* * *

“Hunter, want to keep me company? It’s
lonely
in this bathtub.”

Olivia leaned against the doorjamb and poked her head in. There he sat, in steaming, sudsy water, his black hair almost touching his strong shoulders. More powerful-looking than Poseidon himself. God of the Sea. And of the bathtub. She giggled.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. Your hair is so
long
.”

“What? Yeah, I know. I haven’t had time to get it cut.”

“Let me cut it for you.”
Like I used to.

His eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

“Absolutely.”

“Cool.”

She pulled a comb and scissors from the bathroom cabinet where she had last put them and sat on the edge of the roll-top bath.

“Oh, not yet,” he drawled with a grin as he took her hand and drew her in, clothes and all. Water splashed everywhere, and she squealed as the second dress of the day got soaked. At this rate, she’d have nothing left to wear by tomorrow.

“I want you in here with me…for a closer cut.”

God, how she loved him, with his light green eyes and square jaw covered in stubble.

His eyes traced her nipples through the now-transparent fabric and he drawled, “I knew you weren’t wearing a bra.”

“Easy, cowboy. Haircut first.”

“And then…?”

“And then if you’re lucky you might get a shave without any gashes.” She laughed as he pulled her up against his body, her breasts resting against his chest. He exhaled, and she crawled up his body to straddle him, his penis now rock hard.

“This is not fair,” he complained as she combed his hair, her breasts in his face.

“Oh, poor baby. Be still so I don’t cut you,” she answered, spying him beneath her, excited by the expression on his face as his eyes followed her nipples like a man under hypnosis.

“Can I touch?” He asked.

She shook her head. “Only if you want to look like Scarface.”

The sweat broke out on his forehead as she shifted on top of him, slithering lusciously over his erection. “Jesus, Hunter, give a bloke a break, you’re killing me.”

Olivia ignored her own arousal and snipped the first handful of his hair off.

“Hey, easy, I don’t want to look like Kojak, you know?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” she answered and bit her lip as he lay back, watching her under hooded lids. “I asked around. Seems you were in the SAS. I love a warrior. How many men have you killed?”

He lay quiet while she worked, but then his hands found her thighs and he squeezed, looking up into her eyes.

“And you? How many heists have you pulled off?”

She stopped the scissors and eyed him. “You’ve got me all wrong. I don’t do heists.”

“Oh? Then what is it you do, Hunter? I’d love to know.”

She shrugged, putting the scissors on the floor away from the tub. He looked fantastic, like sex in a tub.

“I cut hair—and mollify men.”

Shane grunted and pushed her down further onto his lap, and Olivia could feel his penis jutting up against her folds.

“Does that feel mollified to you?” he rasped.

Pure, raw need darkened his eyes. Her own body reacted, and she could feel her womb contract with want. She would always want him. Even when their story ended, and she would be eventually carted off to jail for something Hunter had done, Olivia would never stop wanting Shane.

“I’m turned on beyond belief,” he whispered. “Touch yourself for me again, Hunter. I love to watch you do that…”

He had never asked Olivia to before. Probably because he knew she would be too shy. But the last time, it had been amazing.

“Here, in the bath?” she asked, and he tipped his head forward.

What the hell.

S
he pulled her soaked dress over her head and her panties down her legs. Now completely naked, she trailed her hands over her breasts, which responded immediately to her touch. Like the last time, only now that she knew Shane was watching, she was excited like never before. His breath hitched, and she looked down at him.

“Don’t take your eyes off me,” he rasped as he handed her the shower gel. “No washcloth. I want to see your soapy hands all over your body, sweetheart.”

Olivia swallowed as a wave of heat washed over her. She squeezed the shower gel onto her hands and lathered up her arms, shoulders, and breasts, moving down to her ribcage. The rest of her body was under water, so she pulled herself out and sat on the edge of the tub, her crotch now level with his eyes.

She lathered her legs and moved up to her thighs, slightly opening her legs to soap each one, and Shane shifted with a low groan.

“Open your legs,” he ordered, and she obeyed, her soapy fingers caressing her center, stirring hot sensations.

She involuntarily moaned, slightly tilting her head back and lifting her pelvis off the edge of the bathtub, giving him full view of her inner folds. He was fighting to stay in control. She needed to see him in action as well. She needed to see his swollen penis in his rough, calloused hands. Needed to see him lose that control.

She opened her eyes a slit and whispered, “I want to see you touch yourself too.”

This was the boldest part of Hunter inside of her speaking.

His eyes glittered with wicked, forbidden pleasure as his hand went below the water. “Don’t stop,” he ordered, his eyes never leaving her labia. “Put your finger in, sweetheart. I want to see your finger go in.”

Olivia shivered at the need in his voice, and when she obeyed, he jerked forward slightly, but his self-control still held strong. She would have to do something about that now.

Still perched on the edge of the bath, she leaned all the way back, her long, wet hair dripping on the floor, and with one hand stimulated her clitoris, the other teasing her labia, playing in and out of her entrance. Then she stopped and said, “I want to see all of you. Drain the tub.”

Shane did as she asked, and soon the suds flowed away from his body, which emerged like an island with its peaks and dales, his erection standing purple and huge in his hand.

Olivia licked her lips, wanting to hold him in her mouth, or at least the head. She didn’t think she could master the whole thing.

“I want you to tell me when you come,” he said.

At his words, she shuddered and returned her attention to her own body, her eyes riveted to his moving hand. The bathroom was silent but for the slapping of hand against skin and their groans. Olivia had never thought she could feel so wanton, so
sexy
.

After a few moments, the familiar heat began to radiate from the inside of her body. “I’m going to come,” she whispered and he hauled her over him in the now-cold, empty tub. She sank straight onto his erection as his mouth caught hers, thrusting his glorious tongue deep in her mouth, his penis in her vagina. Harder and harder, they moved against each other, their movements restrained by the boundaries of the tub. They must look like coupling, caged animals, clawing at each other, desperate to keep their groins attached and pistoning, no matter what.

As Olivia’s mind exploded with pleasure, she screamed and Shane continued to ravish her. “More,” she cried, and Shane stood in the bathtub with her legs wrapped around his waist, propping her up against the bathroom tiles and pounding so hard she thought they’d go through the wall.

“Fucking tight.” His teeth nibbled on her jaw. “Fucking beautiful pussy.” Shane pressed her harder against the tile. “I’m going to bury myself so deep inside you…” He twisted his hips. “You’re fucking mine.”

She shuddered, her orgasm so intense silver spots flickered under her eyelids.

Many, many moments later, when she returned to her senses, she found herself still pinned to the cold wall behind her by Shane’s body, his chest heaving, his breathing ragged in her ear. She felt more than sated—tingly, sticky, and wonderfully exhausted.

“You are a knockout, Hunter,” he growled as a wide smile spread across his handsome face.

She stretched her neck up toward him, and he lowered himself to kiss her mouth thoroughly, his hands already on her stiff nipples, rubbing them with his outstretched palm. “You could hang a coat on these babies,” he growled, and she quaked. She wanted him again, too, but she was so cold.

He drew the shower curtain closed and turned on the hot water. She closed her eyes and opened her mouth as Shane grasped her hips and hoisted her higher against him, already hard again. Jesus, he would never stop surprising her.

“You’re already hard,” she observed.

He licked her ear and groaned, “Always, if you’re near.”

“I haven’t got the strength…”

“Just close your eyes and let the hot water relax your muscles.”

And so she relaxed under his soapy caresses, and when his large hand found her inner folds again, she jumped, the tiny spot still sensitive. But Shane gave her no chance. He sat her down on the edge of the bath and knelt before her.

“I want to taste you again, sweetheart,” he said, his voice so deep and sexy she bucked at the mere sound of it.

Olivia couldn’t believe she had never let him get that close. She could’ve slapped herself for being such a goddamn prude. For robbing them both of this paradise.
He
was paradise. Paradise on legs.

“I’m going to love you good,” he promised and with that, he spread her legs and forged his tongue into a stiff, hard implement and stroked her clitoris over and over, this way and that, in so many unexpected ways and intensities that kept her jolting and groaning rhythmically, for she had no idea when his next stroke would be, nor how intense. Olivia watched in total enchantment as Shane’s fingers parted her labia while his thumb insisted on her clit, and each time she mewled, lifting her pelvis up again and again, offering him her very core. Then, he slid two fingers in and her breath hissed out. He stopped and grinned at her, his own eyes dark with want. Inside her, Shane’s fingers moved in a beckoning manner, and she nearly jumped out of her skin with ecstasy. It drove her wild, and she began to jolt, her muscles out of control. She didn’t command them—Shane did.

“Please, please fuck me,” she begged, grabbing him by the hair to pull him up, and, ravishing her mouth, he drove into her in one long, hard thrust. For a moment he stilled, then, looking down at her, slightly pulled out and thrust in again as she screamed in pleasure.

She knew she must look ridiculous to him, like a bitch in heat, her hair in tangles and her wet mound bobbing up and down before his face, crazy out of control.

Shane grasped her butt and lifted her off the edge of the bath so he could control her movements to his own satisfaction. She was nothing in his hands but jelly that reacted to the force of his passion. She couldn’t move of her own volition, if not for to push herself against his penis thrusting inside her. And then Shane reached her magic spot.

“Ah…” she cried, and her head lolled in pleasure, falling to one side, resting on Shane’s strong hand braced against the bathroom wall. He concentrated solely on her, on her pleasure, and she felt like the most beautiful, luckiest woman in the world. She kissed the forearm to her left and he leaned forward, catching her mouth with his, demanding a response, unforgiving. She finally wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist and looked up into his hooded eyes. The love there stood out in big block letters, and she wanted to cry with gratitude.

“Come with me, Hunter, come with me,” he beseeched her savagely, like a magic chant, never taking his eyes off hers. “I want to see your eyes when you come.”