Overnight Sensation (16 page)

“Ah, babe,” he ground out, “you’re so damn beautiful.”

He trailed his hands over her thighs and along her flanks, tested the curve of her hips and buttocks, before smoothing over her belly to cup her breasts. He played with her nipples, plucking them and rolling them between his fingers until they were flushed and distended.

The sight of his strong hands on her pale body was intensely erotic, and Ivy couldn’t help rubbing herself against his thigh even as her hands continued to stroke him.

“That’s it,” he rasped. “Ride me.”

Her breathing quickened as she ground herself against the hard muscle of his leg. With one hand fisted around him, she stroked his sac, loving the way his entire body tightened. A drop of glistening moisture eased from the blunt head of his erection, and Ivy caught it with her thumb, smoothing it over the sensitized skin beneath until he groaned and thrust against her. His hands kneaded her breasts, then slid down to cup her buttocks and tip her off balance, so that she fell forward onto his chest.

“Oh, yeah,” he breathed, and slipped a hand between her buttocks to stroke her from behind, even as he caught her mouth with his and drew deeply on her tongue.

He captured her muffled cry of pleasure with his mouth, and his fingers slid into her slick heat, stroking and circling until she thought she’d explode if he didn’t fill her completely.

“Can’t—I can’t wait,” she panted.

Without breaking the delicious torment of his fingers, he reached over his head to where he’d stashed a handful of condoms earlier, grabbed one and tore its package with his teeth. He spat the corner out, then, with shaking hands, covered himself with the condom.

Ivy watched, amazed and more than a little humbled that she could have such an effect on him. But then she realized she was trembling, too.

She didn’t have time to think about it. He gripped her hips and guided her into position. Then there was no more thought as she slid down over him, feeling him stretching and filling her. Bracing one hand on his chest, she used her thighs to leverage herself up and down, watching his features tighten as he watched her.

He gripped her buttocks as she rocked, and the combination of having him inside her while his hands squeezed and stroked her was almost unbearable. She didn’t want to come yet, wanted to hold off and prolong her pleasure, to drive him to the point where he felt the same desperate need she was feeling.

“Ah…sweetheart,” he rasped. “I’m not going to last when you move like that.”

“Okay,” she said breathlessly, “how’s this, instead?”

Pushing herself upright, she arched her back so that her breasts thrust forward, and then she ran her hands along her rib cage and cupped her breasts, pinching her nipples as she watched Garrett’s face.

He groaned, and his fingers flexed against her, but he didn’t try to take over, just fixed her with an expression of rapt intensity and raw, male appreciation in his eyes. Ivy had never felt so powerful or beautiful, and it all had to do with the way he looked at her.

Well, that and the incredible sensations he was creating with the friction of his body against hers. She moaned softly and raised her arms, thrusting her fingers through her hair and biting her lip as an orgasm began to build deep within her.

“Oh…I’m going to come,” she gasped, feeling her inner muscles begin to clench around him.

Her words dragged a rough sound of need from Garrett, who thrust upward at just the right angle, so that wave after undulating wave of intense pleasure washed over her. Her vision blurred, but she was aware of Garrett tensing beneath her, the cords in his neck standing out sharply, before he thrust one last time, the force of his release wrenching a harsh cry from him.

Ivy collapsed against his chest, feeling boneless and weak. His hands caressed her back, then trailed along her spine to rest on the cheeks of her butt. She clenched her muscles, enjoying how they were still joined.

“What a way to wake up,” she said, breathless.

“No shit,” he agreed, his voice caught between a laugh and a groan. “I may never leave this bed again, just sleep and…wake up, over and over.”

Ivy smiled and traced her lips along the column of his neck. He tasted salty and spicy at the same time, his skin warm beneath her mouth.

“Mmm…you taste good,” she murmured.

“Which reminds me,” he said, giving her bottom a playful slap and setting her gently but firmly away from him. “I’m starving. You?”

Ivy shrugged and smiled. “Sort of. I don’t know. I mean, what did you have in mind?”

Garrett stood, and she pulled the sheet over her nudity and watched him. He kept a pitcher and bowl on the counter near the door, and now he splashed some water onto a cloth and quickly washed up. It was the first time she’d gotten a really good look at his entire body, and it just about took her breath away. Garrett Stokes in the buff wasn’t just attractive; he was incredibly, darkly, dangerously gorgeous. His shoulders were wide and powerful, and she admired the play of muscles through his arms and along his back as he moved.

With the sun slanting in through the windows, she could also better see the scars that marred the perfection of his physique, pale splotches and slashes that caused her heart to tighten.

“Are you still with Special Ops?” She realized she knew so little about this man, other than what she’d read in the script. “I mean, are you still active duty?”

He squeezed out the excess water from the cloth and laid it on the counter next to the washbasin. “Yeah,” he finally responded. “I’m stationed at Fort Bragg.”

“Oh.” Ivy digested this news in silence, then tipped her head and considered him. “They let you wear your hair long? I thought all military guys had to get the basic buzz cut.”

Garrett gave her a swift grin and shrugged. “Well, Special Forces and Special Ops can pretty much grow their hair however they need to in order to blend in with the local population or gain the acceptance of indigenous fighters.”

“So does that mean you still do covert-ops stuff, like you did in Colombia?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he drew a pair of clean cargo pants from the shelving unit next to the bed and yanked them on. Ivy noticed the muscles along his rib cage flex and tighten with his movements.

“I’m an instructor at Fort Bragg’s Special Warfare School,” he replied at last, pulling up the zipper and fastening the button. “They have a qualification course called SERE—Survival, Evasion, Resistance and Escape.” A brief smile touched his mouth. “My superior officers decided I’m more than qualified to teach any or all of the four segments of the course.”

Ivy had learned enough about the military from her brother to know that Fort Bragg was an enormous army base in North Carolina, and was where the closely guarded training center for the Special Operations Command was located. Devon had hoped to someday qualify for the Special Forces training program.

“So you’re on leave right now?”

“Yes and no. The army considers this a public-relations opportunity,” Garrett said drily. He picked up the basin and, opening the screen door with his hip, tossed the contents outside onto the ground. He placed the empty bowl back on the counter, which he leaned against, considering her. “I’m on special assignment. As a technical consultant for the filming, my job is to ensure that Finn and the movie producers depict the events as accurately as possible, without giving away any military secrets or compromising a mission.”

Ivy pushed herself to a sitting position and wrapped her arms around her knees. She loved listening to Garrett talk. She hugged her knees, happier and more content than she could remember being in a very long time. As she listened to Garrett, it struck her that she was in danger of falling completely and ridiculously in love with the man. She was half-there already.

She never wanted to leave his cabin. She knew he had feelings for her, too, but didn’t know if they were strong enough to last beyond this idyllic interlude. Had his interest in her been no more than role-playing? No, she couldn’t believe that. He’d been too completely involved, both with his mind and his body, for it to have been acting. She wanted it to be real. She wanted to forget about Helena and the film, and have him see her for who she was—Ivy James. Not a stand-in, not an actress, just a woman who was falling hard for him.

“So when this is over you’ll…what? Go back to Fort Bragg and continue teaching?” He’d said he was permanently stationed at the army base. Did that mean he no longer went out of the country on dangerous missions? She knew the injury to his leg probably prevented him from doing the things he’d done before the events in Colombia. It was selfish of her, but she fervently hoped his days of conducting covert operations were over.

“Yep. What about you? Any projects lined up after this one?”

Ivy didn’t miss how abruptly he’d changed the subject. “No. In fact, if this one hadn’t turned up when it did, I’d be out of work right now.” She rested her cheek on her knees. “It was actually a little bizarre how this job arrived completely out of the blue. When I found out the rest of the cast was already here, had been here for several weeks…well, it made me wonder.”

Garrett stilled. “What did it make you wonder?”

“Just…I don’t know…why a director like Finn MacDougall would want to cast me in the lead female role.” She gave a huff of laughter. “He could have had anyone he wanted. I’ve never won any awards, and none of my films has been a huge hit. Finn’s never told me what made him cast me, so while I’d like to think it’s because he appreciates my talent, I’m just not sure.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” Garrett said gruffly. “You got some great reviews for your portrayal of that schoolteacher in The Red Fence. ”

“You saw that?” Ivy couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice. Of all her roles, that one had been her favorite. She also thought it had been her most powerful role to date, although Eye of the Hunter had all the makings of a huge box-office hit—if she could nail Helena’s character the way Finn wanted. But The Red Fence had been relatively obscure, and its distribution hadn’t been wide. “Have you seen any of my other films?”

“Maybe a few.” Garrett pushed himself away from the counter. “I asked Josephina to bring some food out to us, and I’m sure I heard her outside a few minutes ago. Be right back.”

Without waiting for Ivy’s response, he opened the screen door and was gone, leaving her to stare after him in bemusement. She couldn’t dispel the distinct feeling that he’d used the food as an excuse to avoid further discussion of her films. The thing she couldn’t figure out was why?

GARRETT KNEW HE WAS in real trouble. As a Special Forces soldier, he’d been ready for all types of conventional and clandestine warfare, but nothing could have prepared him for the effect this one woman had on him. He’d been more than a little infatuated with her before he’d ever met her, and that was just from the info he’d gathered about her through public—and not so public—resources. But the real, living, breathing, in-your-arms Ivy James completely blew him away.

He’d had some insane idea that maybe—just maybe—sleeping with her would tamp down the lust that roiled through his blood each time he saw her.

Now he knew differently.

He’d had her a half-dozen times over the course of the forty-eight hours they’d been together in his little cabin and the truth was, he wanted her more than ever. It was as if he couldn’t get enough of her. As if his body had been on hold the past two years, hoarding all the passion he had for her, so that even now, when they’d made love to the point where they were both tender and aching, it still didn’t make a dent in the stockpile he had remaining.

It scared the hell out of him. He’d never felt this way, and a part of him wasn’t sure whether his feelings for Ivy were real or merely a by-product of the exotic location and the film they were shooting. Ivy, on the other hand, seemed completely unfazed by any of it. She made love to him as sweetly and wholeheartedly as if she really was in love with him. He acknowledged that it wouldn’t take much for him to believe they could actually make a go of a relationship. A real relationship, with a real commitment.

They were lying together in his hammock, watching the sun sink over the mountains in a ball of red-gold brilliance, while Garrett peeled an orange and fed Ivy slices of the succulent fruit.

“Mmm,” she murmured, biting into a wedge and trying unsuccessfully to keep it from dribbling down her chin. “It’s delicious—but too juicy!”

Garrett bent his head and caught the excess juice with his tongue, licking it from her chin and then following the trail to her lips, where he licked some more, before kissing her thoroughly. She tasted like sweet citrus, and she smelled like his soap and shampoo. They’d showered together behind his cabin, where a cistern on the roof caught rainwater for the primitive outdoor shower he’d rigged up just after he’d arrived. Normally, he wouldn’t have even bothered with a curtain, but he hadn’t wanted to risk anyone seeing Ivy, so he’d strung a tarp around the perimeter of the shower.

He recalled again how hot she’d looked in the shadowy interior, with the cool rainwater sluicing over her sleek body. He’d taken his time washing her hair, working his fingers along her scalp before rinsing it. He’d been surprised at just how long her hair was when it was straight. He’d run his hands over the slick length and then lower, along the smooth skin of her back, feeling her shoulder blades thrust against his palms before he’d filled his hands with her buttocks and lifted her. She’d cried out once, in surprise, as he’d pinned her against the wall of the cabin, and then once more, in pleasure, as he’d entered her. Then there had been no sounds at all as their mouths had fused and she’d ridden him, hard and fast, to completion.