Two of a kind, p.15
Two of a Kind, page 15
He frowned. “How do you mean?”
“I mean, I have to live here, so I’d prefer the other guests and staff don’t have anything to gossip about.”
“Ah.” He ignored a twinge of hurt at the thought she didn’t want anyone to know about them. She had every right to privacy, and she was the one who had to stay here while he’d return home to an empty house, where there wasn’t even a potted plant to judge him. “Got it.”
“Jack…”
He unbuckled his seatbelt. He didn’t need to hear whatever conciliatory words she had to offer. “Come on. I want to get you undressed.”
She sighed, and met him at the front of the vehicle. They entered the lodge together. The foyer was empty, but Betty was sitting in the garden, gazing in. Jack nodded to her, and Brooke waved. Then she turned her face into her shoulder and muffled a giggle.
“I feel like she knows exactly what we’re doing.”
He huffed in amusement. “She probably does. She was young, once.”
When they reached the hall, they both sped up, Brooke already reaching into her bag for the key. She inserted it into the lock with trembling fingers and turned the handle, then closed the door behind them. This time, he didn’t bother to scan the textbooks on her desk or study the mural on her wall. He crossed the room in long strides, yanked the curtains closed, then gathered her against his body, groaning in pleasure from the contact.
“You’re so fucking soft,” he murmured, lowering his head to nuzzle her. Most of his sexual partners had been firm and athletic. He’d always thought he preferred women that way, but there was something heady and addictive about the silkiness of her lower belly as he ran his thumbs along the skin above the waistband of her shorts.
“Need to shower,” she said, drawing him through the door into the en suite. He went willingly, without releasing her. She had an open-plan bathroom, with a tiled floor and a shower head attached to one wall. She started the stream of water, then melted into his arms. He dropped kisses on her lips, cheeks, eyelids, then turned her head to the side so he could access the length of her neck. It was white and smooth and so fucking perfect. He latched onto the point where her pulse beat, and sucked. She moaned, sounding deep and contented.
Just like that, he was hard again.
He grabbed the hem of her shirt, but before he could pull it over her head, her hands flew down to stop him.
“Um,” she said, licking those delicious peach lips, her hands still confounding his efforts to get her naked. She swallowed, and he watched her throat work. “The thing is, I’m not built like a fitness model.” She met his eyes. “And I have a scar from surgery.” She lifted her shoulders ever so slightly and dropped them. “Just thought I should warn you.”
“Brooke, it makes no difference to me if you have green alien skin beneath this shirt. I’m still gonna want you.”
“Okay, then.”
She didn’t believe him? He’d just have to prove it.
“Can I?” he asked, tugging on the hem. She raised her arms and let him remove her shirt. He did so gently, easing it over her head, and stood back to look at her. Pale, flat stomach—soft, like the rest of her. The scar she’d been so worried about was a thin pink line running down her sternum, several inches long, the center of her bra passing over it. He touched a fingertip to the scar and traced it from bottom to top. He’d known about her heart surgery, but for some reason it had only ever been a distant concept. Here was the proof of a very real procedure. Her chest had been opened up for a life-and-death operation, and his own heart wrenched at the thought of what she’d been through. She was a survivor. A warrior.
“It’s hideous,” she muttered.
Tenderness surged within him. “It’s part of you,” he replied. “And it’s beautiful, because it means you’re still here, with me. You made it through.”
Her gaze flew up to his. “Kiss me, Jack.”
The way he looked at her… God, his admiration was a potent aphrodisiac. Brooke locked her hands behind his head and dragged him down for a long, thorough kiss, trying to convey through her actions how much his words meant to her. Jack wasn’t a shallow boy, he was a man—one she wanted with every fiber of her being.
“Wow,” he said, as their lips separated. “We gotta get you into that shower, or I’m taking you right fucking now, sweaty or not.”
She laughed and wrestled her sports bra off, then pulled the tie out of her hair and tugged off her shorts and underwear, not giving him a chance to ogle her before she stepped under the spray. But as the water soaked her hair and ran in rivulets down her back, over her breasts, and to the floor, she kept her attention focused on him, not wanting to miss a moment of the show as he performed a similarly hurried striptease.
His hard stomach rippled as he took his shirt off, and dark hair dusted his chest, with another arrow of hair disappearing into the waistband of his jeans. His shoulders were broad and bulky, his nipples little brown nubs. She swallowed as her eyes tracked lower. There was a bulge beneath the fly of his jeans. An impressively-sized bulge. One she wanted bare as soon as possible. He caught her gaze and one side of his mouth quirked up in a cocky smirk. He undid the zipper agonizingly slowly, and a groan of frustration tore from her throat.
His chocolate eyes darkened. “Patience,” he teased.
“I’ve been patient enough,” she grumbled. “Hurry up. The sooner we get clean, the sooner we both get what we want.”
He laughed, stepping out of his jeans. “You know, the shower doesn’t have to be a means to an end. You might enjoy it more than you think.”
She swallowed. Did he mean sex in the shower? Yeah, she knew some people did that, but had never thought anyone would want her so much that they couldn’t wait ten minutes until they were somewhere more comfortable. Shower sex was for people so carried away by lust that they didn’t notice how awkward it was.
“Uh-uh,” she said. “I doubt it.”
His smile faded. “Then I guess I’d better persuade you otherwise.”
With a smooth motion, he removed his underwear and stalked toward her, his thick erection bobbing with each step. If she had been wearing panties, they would have been soaked, and not just from the shower. She squeezed her thighs together, trying to contain herself, but she couldn’t take her eyes off him. He was all man. His strong legs were corded with muscle, and at their apex was a thatch of dark hair with his dick jutting proudly from it. The visual overwhelmed her. She whimpered, and automatically, his entire drool-worthy body tensed.
“You like what you see?” he demanded.
“It’s all right,” she said, her voice husky.
One eyebrow leapt up. “Just all right?” He stepped closer, crowding her, but not quite touching. “I think you like me better than ‘all right.’”
She swayed toward him, initiating contact. Her slick skin slid against his, the sensation divine. Her eyelids fluttered closed. “Okay,” she admitted. “I like it a whole lot.”
He growled in satisfaction, and his arms went around her, fingers sinking into her ass to drag her closer. “That’s what I thought.”
He tilted her face up as he lowered his, and their lips met halfway. The kiss consumed them. She was aware of nothing but the texture of his lips, and the exquisite press of his erection to the part of her that seemed to have become the new center of her nervous system. His hands smoothed up her sides, and came around to cup her face. They felt large and rough against her skin, and she shivered. He was turning her into nothing but a puddle of endorphins.
Who knew kissing could be so good?
Then he drew away. She tried to clutch him closer, but he gently disengaged and reached for the soap.
“You wanted to be clean, remember?” His voice was so low, she felt it as much as heard it.
“I changed my mind.”
He shook his head. “I’ll clean you.”
Oh, hell. Did he actually mean…?
Rubbing the bar of soap between his hands, he worked up a lather, then set his palms to her shoulders and spread the soap over them with gliding movements. She bit her lip, determined not to moan. He was toying with her. Trying to drive her crazy. But she could handle it.
His hands journeyed down to her breasts, where he proceeded to do a very thorough job of cleaning her. His outdoorsman hands were dark against her pale breasts, and the contrast excited her. He rubbed his thumbs over the tips, then continued downward, splaying his hands over her belly, making her a writhing mass of sensation.
His lips touched her ear. “You feel clean yet?”
She fisted her hands and shook her head. She never wanted this slippery, sensual exploration to end. “No,” she whispered. “I think you missed a spot.”
His fingers twitched, and that was the only sign her words had affected him. His questing hands slid lower, and she gasped as one wedged between her tightly clenched thighs, his fingers delving into the folds of her sex. She shot upright and grabbed his shoulders.
“Shh,” he soothed. “Easy, Brooke. I’ve got you.”
His fingers began to rub rhythmically against her, and she rocked into his palm, burying her face in his shoulder. He crooked a finger, and she almost exploded from pleasure.
He groaned, and it rumbled through his chest. “You’re so fucking hot. And so wet. This is all for me, isn’t it? You’re so needy for me.”
She didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. It was self-evident. But then he pulled his hand away and peeled himself off her.
“Come back,” she said.
He chuckled, the sound deep and dirty. “You’re a bossy wee thing, aren’t you? I like it.”
She wanted to roll her eyes, but didn’t have the presence of mind. Instead, she let him guide her out of the stream of water and pin her to the wall. She thought he was preparing to demonstrate how amazing shower sex could be, but then he dropped a single kiss on her lips and sank to his knees.
“What are you…?”
He gripped her thighs and his tongue darted forward.
“Oh, God.”
Her legs were boneless. If not for his support, she’d have ended up on the ground. She tried to hold herself up on the tiled wall, but her muscles wouldn’t cooperate. Instead, she gripped his shoulders as he feasted on her. She’d never felt anything like it. Her other lover had never gone down on her, and she’d assumed all men found the act distasteful. But Jack was uttering filthy things and lapping at her like she was a delicacy. Thanks to him, she was riding the edge of orgasm. She focused on his face. His eyes were closed, his brow furrowed in concentration. Suddenly, the flat of his tongue padded her clit. Hard. She shuddered, and struggled to keep her eyes open. She didn’t want to miss a moment of this.
“Mmmmm,” he murmured against her, his eyes opening and locking with hers. “I can taste how bad you want me.”
Oh, fuck. Had she thought it was erotic before? Hearing him say that, his dark eyes blazing into hers, she had to bite her lip so she didn’t cry out loud enough to bring the whole lodge running.
“I do,” she said, low and sure. She’d never talked dirty in her life, but she had the urge to repay everything he was giving her with more of the same. “I want you so bad. I want you inside me.” She swallowed, hoping he couldn’t see her nerves. “I want you to fuck me. Right here.”
He started to stand. “Hell, yes.”
“But first, I want to taste you.”
His jaw went slack. “I’m, uh—” he cleared his throat “—not sure that’s such a great idea.”
“Oh, but I am.”
He hesitated, though she could tell from the way he eyed her mouth that he wanted it.
“I’ll stop the moment you say the word.”
At that, his lips twisted into a wry smile. “I think that’s my line.”
He raised himself the rest of the way up and leaned over to tangle his tongue with hers. She never wanted the kiss to end, but she tore her mouth from his, loving the way his gaze followed her and his chest rose and fell rapidly as she lowered herself to the floor.
He was ruddy and engorged, a pulsing vein running the length of his erection, from his balls to the ridged head. She stroked the vein with the pad of her thumb, then touched the very tip, spreading a bead of pre-cum with her fingertip. His hips thrust forward, pressing him into her palm.
“Suck it,” he ordered.
She dropped her hands to her sides and looked up at him. “Say please.”
His eyes burned down into hers. “Please,” he growled. “Suck me, Brooke.”
Ooh. She’d never have thought being ordered around would turn her on, but it did. Perhaps because she realized she was the one with the real power here. He might be telling her what to do, but he was desperate for her. She could leave him hanging, and he’d be frustrated and horny with no outlet.
But that wasn’t fun.
Experimentally, she licked him like an ice cream. He tasted salty, and was hot and heavy in her mouth. She closed around him and sucked. He rocked forward. Her eyes widened in surprise as he lodged more firmly in her mouth, but she didn’t move back. His fists tightened, his forearms cording with muscle. She used one hand to anchor herself to him, and stroked his shaft while she unleashed the full force of her enthusiasm with her mouth. Licking, sucking, kissing, swirling. A series of nonsensical noises spilled from his lips. Half-words, curses, sounds of encouragement. Then, all of a sudden, his hands were on her shoulders, pushing her away.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck. No more, sweetheart, or I’m done for.”
His eyes could have been mistaken for black, and every muscle in his body was popping, his jaw clenched. Brooke’s mouth went dry. She’d done that to him. She’d pushed him to the edge of his control, and she was the reason he was aching for release. The thought made her legs so shaky she couldn’t stand. She reached for him, trying to take him in her hand.
He evaded her. “Play time is over. It’s my turn now.” He inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring as he breathed out. Then he cracked his neck, seeming to find his equilibrium. “Serious question. Do you give a shit if we mess up your bed?”
She shook her head and whispered, “No.”
“Good.” He grinned, and it was absolutely feral. She wanted to jump his bones, if only her legs had the strength. But then he turned off the shower, bent, slipped an arm behind her thighs, and scooped her up.
She gasped. “What are you doing?”
Mischief flickered in his expression. “Looked like you were having trouble moving.”
She sputtered. That… that… presumptuous, sexy jerk.
He opened the door to her room, and steam billowed out. He carried her to the bed, and she held onto his neck, amazed that he could hold her up so easily. And to think, she’d been proud she could walk in a ten-pound weight vest. Jeez, she had a long way to go before she was at his level.
He dropped her in the center and immediately covered her body with his own, then raised himself up on one elbow, creating space between their bodies. She stretched up to kiss him. The kiss wasn’t languid, it was all-consuming. Unmistakably a prelude to more.
She couldn’t think, could only feel. Being this near to Jack was like nothing she’d ever experienced. She was ready to crawl out of her skin. No one had ever made her feel like this. Not just physically, but emotionally. It was like he couldn’t get enough of her. Like he was an addict and she was his next fix. It was heady. Wonderful.
His hand slipped between them and found her sex. “Mmm,” he rasped. “So hot and wet. You want me now, baby?”
“I want you,” she breathed.
“Thank fucking God.”
He withdrew from her, and she bit her lip, watching his ass muscles flex as he retrieved a condom from his wallet. He rolled it on and settled over her again, pressing into her in a single motion. She cried out as he filled her, stretching her to the limit. She’d been slick, and he entered easily, but it had been a really long time since she’d been with anyone, and the invasion felt a little unfamiliar.
“Shit,” he cursed. “You okay?”
“I’m good,” she gasped. “So good. But go slow for a bit, please.”
He did as she asked, giving her a moment to adjust, then sliding back into her in a long, smooth thrust. Her heart thumped so rapidly she feared he’d notice and stop, but after the third glorious thrust, it started to slow, and by the fifth, she was moaning and trying to get closer.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he muttered between kisses. “You haven’t had a man take care of you for a long time, have you honey?”
She squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to admit exactly how long it had been. “No, I haven’t.”
He hooked an arm around one of her legs and drew it up, opening her wider, pounding into her in the best possible way, driving her higher, into a crescendo of passion, again and again and again.
“Tell me how it feels.”
“Feels so good.” She was barely aware of speaking, let alone what the words were. “Feels like I can hardly take it anymore. Feels like I’m gonna go crazy if I don’t come soon. Please, Jack, I’m so close. So close.”
“I know you are, baby.” His voice was gravelly. “I’m right with you.”
Her eyes flew open as his mouth contorted in a grimace, the lines of his neck deeply pronounced. The sight of him, that big, strong man, craving relief but desperate to get her there first, was all it took to send her crashing headlong into orgasm, shuddering and trembling and calling his name.
“Thank fuck,” he grunted. “Keep coming, baby, I got you.” And then he muffled a litany of swearwords in the crook of her shoulder as he finally allowed himself to claim his own pleasure.
19
Whoa.
Jack felt wrung out. Wonderfully, blissfully spent. Rising up on his elbows, he dropped a kiss on the tip of Brooke’s nose. Her lips curved up at the edges, and he smiled back. He hadn’t expected this when he chased after her earlier, but he had no regrets.
“Wow,” he said, kissing her once more, then rolling off to lie on his back beside her, their shoulders touching. “That was really fucking amazing.”
