The next thing I know, I’m topless—and the star of Anderson Bexley’s attention. His mouth is on my breast, and that naughty tongue of his is circling and teasing while my core aches for him. He’s focused on his execution, paying equal attention to both breasts, which doesn’t surprise me. He’s an equal opportunity kind of guy, and I’m beginning to feel selfish because of all the work he’s putting in.
I lean over, grab the bottom hem of his shirt, and slide it over his head. “That’s better,” I say, trying to catch my breath as I drink him in. Muscles bulge and ripple beneath tan skin. The cut of him is hard and soft in all the right places. He’s not ripped like those guys at my gym who spend most of their time calculating their body-fat percentages and flexing in front of the mirror. He’s real—his body showcasing his strength from everyday activities rather than from weight machines and barbells. And it’s sexy as hell.
Anderson’s expression darkens, making my heart skip at the complete contrast of how he reacts to me. One second he’s confident as hell, stealing kisses, and making it clear just how much he wants me. And then he glares like that, showcasing his deepest desires.
I should care that we’re both too dizzy to think straight. I should care that after this project is over, we don’t know exactly what’s going to happen. But he’s Anderson. And tonight, I’m his.
My mouth is back on his, desperate for another taste. His lips mold to mine so naturally, I sink into him. I never want to leave this moment. Anderson is a passionate man, but I never expected him to kiss me like the world is falling apart around us and all we have left is each other. But that’s exactly how it feels.
His mouth parts enough for me to see his tongue slide along the inside of his lip, back and forth, so slowly that I imagine he’s concocting all the things he wants to do to me. Whatever will take his mind off all the things he can’t control is okay by me.
He pushes me down so my back is pressed flat against the floor then climbs between my legs. He leans in and brushes his lips to mine before letting them travel down my chin, my neck, and between my breasts until he settles on one. The tip of his tongue makes wide circles around my areola, sending tingling sensations all over my body.
I hear the swish of water and ice cubes hitting the glass, but I don’t even realize Anderson’s other hand is busy doing sneaky things until an ice-cold sensation slides against my other nipple. A gasp bursts from my chest, and I look down to find a large cube teasing my other nipple. Anderson’s focus is steady on me, a wicked gleam in his golden gaze as he continues his tease to both sensitive peaks.
A moan shakes through me, and I roll my head back to give into the intense pleasure. My entire body is alight with sensations that are completely in Anderson’s control. Then the ice cube moves slowly up over my breast and across my collarbone until it’s resting between my lips.
“Suck,” he demands, his rasp so fucking hot I swear I can feel it vibrate through my center.
I do as he says, eager to find out what comes next, but I think that’s part of his game. Anderson isn’t in any rush to end his torture. In fact, I think he wants to prolong it. When the ice finally begins to move again, I adjust my focus to watch it.
The lower the cube slides, the faster my breathing becomes. Once it hits my belly, the ache between my thighs is too intense. A pool of water is melting there while he brings his mouth down where I need him the most, but he makes no move to tend to me.
“Anderson,” I breathe. “I don’t know if I can handle much more.”
His lips curl up slightly at the sides, confirming just how evil he plans to be. “Patience. We’re just getting to the good part.” He lowers the ice from my navel to my clit.
“Oh my God,” I moan. My hips jerk at the sensation, and Anderson’s hand is right there, looping around my bent leg to secure me to the floor as he continues his assault on the sensitive bundle of nerves.
He slides the ice down between my folds until it’s circling my entrance as his mouth moves onto my clit like a furnace in an ice storm. It goes from cold to hot, shocking my nerve endings and awakening an orgasm from deep inside me. I can feel it building slowly, matching Anderson’s torturous rhythm.
Two fingers slip inside me, and I know they will be my undoing. The ice is gone. It’s just Anderson and me now. He moves to my side while fucking me slowly with his fingers, then he takes my mouth with his. Our tongues tangle, our breaths quicken, and I know I’m seconds away from coming apart when Anderson slips his fingers out, buries his mouth in my neck, and growls. “Not yet.”
Pleasure slips away, but only for a second while Anderson adjusts us both. He hooks his arm around my knee and presses it into my side then places his cock at my entrance. He pushes inside, slowly at first. Our mouths collide, but no kiss comes. Not yet. We’re just breathing, anticipating each thick inch as he penetrates me deeper.
“I’ll never get enough of you, Hope.”
I squeeze my lids together as he roots himself as far as he can go. “It feels so good to hear you say that, because you’re it for me, Bexley.”
He kisses me now while he begins to fuck me, his thick cock sliding and deepening with every thrust. I’m already at the brink, my orgasm hitting me fast and hard while he gasps at how tightly my pussy clenches around him.
My release gives him permission to pick up the speed, because as soon as my last tremor smooths out, his thrusts become wilder, harder as he brings himself closer to climax.
I watch his handsome face, the control he always seems to carry fading away and being replaced by an unbridled urgency. It’s like he’s unleashing all his demons in this one unchained fuck. He completely lets go, and it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.
When he loses himself in his final thrusts, his release is like a fireworks show setting off inside me. I’ll never forget this moment—a moment filled with what feels like a load of pent-up feelings finally being explored. We’re flying high, sizzling through the air in brilliant colors, making the darkest of nights come alive for the world to see.
As he eases out from inside me and the fireplace light dims while we curl up together to sleep, I can’t help but think about all the dark clouds that seem to be lingering from the last storm that tried to wreak havoc on us. I look over at Anderson, who is already asleep, his deep breaths a lullaby to my unsettling thoughts, and I pray the storm doesn’t come for us again.
Chapter Twenty
ANDERSON
It’s nine in the morning when I finally wake up. Hope is still fast asleep beside me, so I tiptoe around the room to get dressed in an effort not to wake her. I plant a light kiss on her head before sneaking out the front door and toward the north side of camp to find my brother.
The curtains to one of the cabins are cracked open, so I walk closer to peek through the window, only to find that Jami’s night bag is sitting on the bed, but he’s not inside. So I start my trek around camp in an effort to find him. He’s not at the marina or any of the other lake outlets. He’s not at the field or back at the front office. I look in all the places that would be new to him. The spa, the arcade, the pool, with my final stop being the saloon.