“Come inside,” I whispered in his ear.
His body went rigid and not just the obvious part pressed up against me. He let go of me, moving his hands to my upper arms as if he was going to push me away. I was not having it.
I ran my hands from his shoulders, down his sides to his waist. My fingers slid under the hem of his thermal shirt, and I reveled in the feel of his hot skin under my palms. He let out a hiss of breath as I traced his insanely defined pectorals, slowly lowering my hands to his abs. He froze so I went for the bold maneuver and slid my fingers over the front of his jeans.
“Fuck,” he cursed. He managed to make it a three-syllable word.
“Yes, please,” I whispered before gently biting his earlobe.
He pulled away from me, and for a moment I feared I’d been too aggressive or had gone too far. Nope. He yanked me back in and kissed me as if I were the last bit of air he’d breathe before going under water for good. I was happy to drown along beside him. Abruptly, he pulled back, breaking the kiss, and his hot gaze met mine.
“I don’t do long relationships,” he said. “Three months is my max. No exceptions.”
Just like Soph had said. I was glad she’d told me so I wasn’t caught off guard.
Every muscle in Nick’s body was taut, and I suspected he wanted to fight off this crazy attraction between us, but instead of denying it, he threw up obstacles, or more accurately, because it was him and he was all about control, he made rules. Like the length of a relationship could be determined at the start. I ducked my head so he couldn’t see me smile as I felt a surge of pleasure that I had pushed him to this tipping point.
“I’m not going to be in Phoenix for much longer than that,” I said. This was not a sure thing, but he didn’t need to know that.
“When it ends, it ends. No crying, no fits, no stalking, no weirdness,” he said.
“I’m sure you’ll try to control yourself.” I batted my lashes at him.
That surprised a laugh out of him. He looked at me as if I were already naked—so hot!—and then he asked, “Are you sure, reckless one, because there’s no turning back after tonight.”
“I’m sure.” I wasn’t but when was I ever sure of anything? I operated on instinct and intuition. All I knew, for certain, was that this man made me feel things no one ever had before, and I was damned if I was going to leave Phoenix and not indulge myself in him as if he were a rare top-shelf sipping tequila.
He nodded and spun me around. With his hands on my hips and him right behind me, we walked through the open door of my house. As soon as we stepped inside, Nick shut the door behind us and drew the seldom-used drapes closed. Then he pulled me back in and kissed me.
It wasn’t just a kiss. It was a promise of rumpled sheets, sweaty bodies, and orgasms, yes, multiple. I dug my fingers into his hair and held him still while I sipped at his mouth, slid my tongue inside, and then kissed him so deep, his only response was a groan and some muted swearing.
When we broke apart, we were both breathing heavily. I glanced at the couch and noted that Sir was curled up in his blanket, oblivious to the porn scene we were acting out right in front of him.
Nick spun me around again and nudged me toward the bedroom. As soon as he stepped in after me, he kicked the door shut with his foot. He backed me up to the bed. When the backs of my knees hit the mattress, I went down and Nick pounced. Lying full on top of me, he kissed me and kissed me and kissed me some more, fitting his mouth to mine and plundering me like a pirate seeking treasure. He didn’t stop until my ears were ringing, my lips were puffy, and my chin sported whisker burn. I didn’t care. I would have kissed him all night long if that was all he offered.
He cupped my cheek and ran his thumb over my lower lip. His eyes were gentle when he looked at me with tender affection and said, “You are a feast and I am a starving man. Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” I said. My voice was breathy when I added, “I’m yours.”
A low hum was his only response, and then he was kissing me again. I’d told the truth. I was totally his. He could make love to me or suggest we play Scrabble. I did not care. I just wanted to be with him. There was something about him that called to me. As if he was a lonely voice, crying out in the distance, and I was trying to find him.
In unspoken agreement, we attacked each other’s clothes. My dress went one way, his shirt another. We paused to kick off our shoes, and they dropped to the floor with loud thuds. Then we peeled off our remaining clothes until we were both down to our skin. I hardly got a chance to look at him when he rolled me. Pressing his entire body the length of mine, he settled on top of me. His hands roamed over my curves with delicious abandon, and I could hardly process the sensations rocketing through me. I arched against him, feeling him lock into place exactly where I wanted him. My blood felt hot and sluggish in my veins. The need I felt was so sharp, it made me gasp.
“Easy, Goddess,” he said. “We have all night.”
Goddess? How was I supposed to resist that? I couldn’t. I rolled us so that I was on top. My hair formed a curtain, cocooning us in.
I was breathing as if I’d run a marathon. He was right. I needed to slow it down. Savor it, us, him. He stared up at me, his eyes intense but with a glint of humor. His lips curved up on one side so I leaned down and kissed the corner. His smile deepened and that wicked dimple appeared, taunting me. I kissed it and then his eyebrows, his nose, the line of his jaw. I felt his body move beneath mine, and I realized he was laughing. I pulled back to admire him. I loved it when he laughed. I suspected he hadn’t laughed near enough in life. He took the opportunity to roll us again, so that I was on the bottom.
“You’re a playful one, aren’t you?” he asked.
“Me?” I blinked innocently. Then I pinched his side. He yelped and laughed again.
“Yes, you,” he said. He caught my hands in his, laced our fingers, and held them by my head. Then he began to kiss his way down my body.
“Reckless,” he murmured. He drew a nipple into his mouth and sucked hard, nipping the tip, making me grunt, and then soothing the sting with his tongue. My eyesight went fuzzy. He repeated the process with my other breast, making me hiss.
“Impulsive,” he whispered. He kissed his way down my belly, swirling his tongue around my belly button. He chuckled when I squirmed and giggled. I tried to pull my hands free to block him, but he wasn’t interested in tickle torture. No, he was focused on another goal entirely.
Not letting go, he pulled my hands down so that they were beside my hips, his fingers still laced with mine. The soft light in my bedroom illuminated the planes of his face, and I was again caught breathless by how incredibly handsome he was. His gaze met mine, and it was ripe with intent. He was the predator, and I was the prey, and I was happy to be so.