“You make me crazy,” he growled. “That’s what I should’ve painted on the wall. Crazy.”
“You make me crazy too,” she said. “The best kind of crazy I’ve ever felt.”
She pulled his boxers down, then moved to kneel in front of him. Her mouth watered for a taste, and she gave him one long swipe of her tongue.
But that was clearly too much for him, because he hauled her to her feet, turned her around to yank down the zip of the skirt still up around her waist, and shoved it to the floor to land on the pile of their discarded clothes.
He trailed his fingers down the line of her spine. Then, with his front pressed to her back, he pulled her hair aside, kissed her neck, her earlobe. The bed was right there in front of her, and it was pure instinct to crawl onto it, on her hands and knees in front of him.
He let out a long, slow groan. “I tried not to want this. I tried not to want you.” Each sentence was an admission she sensed he’d never wanted to make to her. Then he made an even bigger admission. “But I’ve wanted you forever.”
“I’ve wanted you too,” she told him. Every step he took toward the deep end, she took with him.
The bed dipped as he knelt beside her, his fingers tracing down between her legs as Lyssa spread herself for him. She felt wanton and crazy with desire.
“You’re so hot. So ready for me.” He stroked her, stoking the fire building deep inside her.
“Cal.” She closed her eyes and reveled in the pleasure he gave her, moaning his name over and over. Then she turned her head and found his mouth. Kissing him with all the desperate desire he made her feel, she rolled to her back, pulling him down on top of her.
At last, she tore her mouth from his. “I need you inside me.”
“I don’t have a condom.” His eyes were iron gray with regret.
“It’s okay. I’m on the pill.” Reaching down, she wrapped her hand around him, stroked, felt his heat and steel in her palm. “I need you now.”
“Are you sure?”
“One hundred percent sure. One million percent! Nothing bad is going to happen, I promise.” She kissed him again. “Please, Cal, take me. Love me.”
His eyes blazed with heat as he flexed his hips, one long, glorious thrust, so that she felt him deep inside her. Her head fell back as she lifted her hips to take him even deeper.
His strokes were slow and measured as he braced himself on his arms, yet he shook with the effort to take his time, to push her higher, make her crazier.
“You.” He sucked in a breath. “Feel.” Let it out in an exhale that shook through him. “So damned good.”
Then he closed his eyes, and the slow steady rock of his body was unbearable, the pleasure overwhelming. She clamped around him as all the tension stole down to her center, her very core. And broke inside her.
The world exploded. She called out his name. And that was when Cal slammed his hips into her, turning the climax cataclysmic.
* * *
Cal woke alone in the airplane bed to the sound of water running. He had never felt so languid, so sated. He stretched, breathed deeply, let it out. He hadn’t looked at the clock, didn’t know how long he and Lyssa had slept.
He was angry with himself for giving in to his need for her. For letting his insane hunger override all rational thought. But the sound of that water, and the knowledge that she was naked in the shower, made his desire rise higher than any self-recriminations could.
It was a siren’s call he had to answer.
Sliding naked from the bed, he headed to the bathroom door, thinking he’d find her in the shower. Instead, he found her buried in bubbles up to the neck.
She shut off the water when she saw him, naked before her and boldly ready to do everything all over again. To experience the wonder of her against his body, the tight, wet heat of her around him.
She reached out a hand slippery with bubbles. “Come join me.”
He knew he shouldn’t. Hell, he shouldn’t have let himself notice she was a beautiful woman, shouldn’t have let himself touch her, shouldn’t have given in to the powerful urge to kiss her. But of course, since he couldn’t think straight around her, he climbed right into the tub, standing over her long enough for her to wrap her hand around his erection.
He had never seen such a wicked smile on a woman’s face. She was magnificent, her breasts playing peekaboo with the bubbles.
She stroked him, and he did the unthinkable, curling his hand around hers and helping her. It was crazy good, the sight of their hands. He slid down into the water with her and kissed her.
“I love the way you taste,” he said between kisses. “I love the way you feel.” He reached beneath the water and played with the aroused flesh between her thighs, sending her to the edge of bliss in under a minute.
“Wait, not yet.” She opened her eyes, her gaze stroking him. “I want to wash you. Then you can wash me.”
She found a fruity body soap, squirted a dollop on her hand, and stood.
“I’d rather watch you do it yourself,” he said.
Her smile was hot enough to make the water boil. And she soaped up, washed her breasts, slowly, lingering where he wanted his hands and mouth. Then her arms, but when she headed south, he stood, took the body wash, and lathered up. With his eyes on hers, he soaped away the residue of their lovemaking, washed every inch, all her sexy nooks and crannies as her gaze turned even more needy.
Then she started on him, making him want to beg. Yet he needed the slow, easy nature of it, the rising tension as he relished her touch.
When there wasn’t another inch to be washed, they sank into the water. He rolled, bringing her on top, lodging himself between her legs before telling her, “I want to taste all of you.” Hands under her hips, he raised her until she was a feast begging for his mouth. He lapped gently, savoring her before delving deep, finding the pearl between her legs. He gave her everything, holding her tight against him, licking, sucking, swirling until her legs started to shake.
He felt the clench of her body, knew she was close, and with his tongue still on her, he filled her with two fingers.
She put her head back, cried out, riding the long wave of pleasure, and finally she collapsed against him. Rising, he lifted her out of the water, stood her on the bath mat, and toweled them both dry.
Then, lifting her until she straddled him, he carried her back to the bed. Her arms were around his neck, her legs around his waist as he plunged deep, filling her up, filling himself up, and taking her to the pinnacle once more.
And when she fell, he fell with her.
Never, ever wanting to let her go.
Chapter Eight
Cal woke the second time to find Lyssa tangled around him, still asleep. She smelled like warm woman and hot sex.
He glanced at the clock. They’d be landing in less than an hour.
Not wanting to wake her, he slowly disentangled himself from her and stood beside the bed.
She was so beautiful. So sweet. And so damned sexy.
He didn’t want to regret what they’d done. Didn’t want to have to face it either. Not yet. So he let her sleep a few more minutes.
Normally, he would have taken a shower before he got dressed, but he didn’t want to wash away anything they’d done. He wanted to keep the memories with him just a little longer, of her hands and mouth on him and his on her.