Intoxicated (9 page)

He bent and pressed his lips against hers. They were warm and moist. This was a long, leisurely kiss, not like the frenzied passion in the hallway of Felony. He caressed her lips with his and she returned the favor, savoring his mouth, intoxicated by the taste of wine on his tongue. The kiss lasted long enough that she forgot to count the seconds until it ended. When he finally pulled back from her, they were both breathing hard. The frantic beat of his heart against her breast made her insides clench.

“Damn,” he whispered and lowered his mouth to hers for another kiss. His free hand wandered down her back to gather a handful of her bottom, pressing her into him so that she could feel every hard muscled curve of his chest and the hardness inside his jeans. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t lay you down on that blanket and make love to you right now.”

Those whispered words triggered a shiver down her spine even though it had to be at least ninety degrees outside. She couldn’t think of one good reason to protest. She couldn’t think at all. For the first time in a long time, she
felt
— felt the muscled hardness of his bare chest beneath her palms, felt the rough curly hairs that trailed downward and disappeared into the waistband of his jeans, felt the swirl and eddy of her hormones as she drowned in attraction for this man. For the first time in a long time, she wanted to act on impulse without regard for consequences or implications or reputation. They were alone, miles from anywhere and anyone. She could be herself out here with no one watching. No one would ever know.

She rose on her toes to kiss him. The full lips curved in a surprised smile beneath hers. He picked her up with ease and carried her to the blanket, laid her down on the soft wool, and stretched out beside her. Without thought or care, she let him worship her with his mouth while her fingers tangled in the thick glossy strands of his hair. He trailed kisses down her neck and across the tops of her breasts. Everything was perfect.

The cell phone in Jack’s front pocket vibrated between them.
 

“God damn it.”

“Do you need to get that?” she asked, relieved and disappointed at the reprieve.

Jack blew out a heavy sigh but didn’t release her. “It can wait.” He took the phone from his pocket and turned it off without looking at it. “Right now I don’t give a shit about anything but you and me.”
 

“Don’t you want to see who it is?” Ally asked, not wanting to know but still curious.

“I know who it is,” Jack replied.

Jack looked down into Ally’s face and felt a sudden rush of tenderness. Always before, when faced with a half-naked female in his arms, he’d felt nothing but animal lust and the selfish need to claim her body for his pleasure. He’d always been able to shut down his emotions like flicking off a light switch and focus on the physical sensations necessary to complete the task. Chelsea had taught him that skill and he’d honed it to perfection.
 

A strand of her wavy hair had fallen over her eye. He swept it back with one finger, caressing the soft shell of her ear as he tucked it away. Why in hell was he thinking about the most unpleasant years of his life at a time like this? Those memories had been shoved into the vault and the key thrown away years ago. Now was not the time to dredge them all up again. Ally was nothing like Chelsea. The last thing he wanted was to spoil this perfect moment with painful memories.

Ally sighed and shifted in his embrace. Her hair tumbled out over his arm, tickling his skin and heightening his desire. The green eyes closed and he took the opportunity to drink in her beauty. Everything faded into oblivion as she arched into him. He ran a hand down her neck, caressing the velvety soft skin, over the swell of her breasts, and all the way down the length of her bare thigh. This girl had more curves than a Grand Prix race track and he intended to drive around every one of them.

 
“Get those panties off.” His voice cracked like a teenager’s as he slid a palm across the velvety skin of her belly and inside the panties. “I want to watch you take them off for me.”

“You do it,” she said. “And I’ll watch.”
 

The tiny scrap of lace slid easily down her legs. He tossed it to the side. At the sight of the neatly trimmed triangle of curls beneath those sexy panties, all the blood rushed out of his head and straight down to his groin. Once more he buried his nose in her hair and took a long deep draught of her intoxicating scent. Logical thought abandoned him. All he could think about was sex and the aching in his balls. He needed her. Now. Hard. Fast.

Ally bit her bottom lip, caught by surprise as he slid inside her. His hands were everywhere, cupping her breasts, tickling along her ribs, reaching between them to stroke the most sensitive spot between her legs. He was tall and heavy but his weight felt good as he pinned her to the blanket. Jack began to move, slowly at first then building in speed and intensity until her breath came hard and fast.

Nothing existed outside of her body, Jack, and the soft wool of the blanket beneath her bare bottom. His jagged breathing and muttered curses set her blood to boiling. A bead of sweat dripped from his temple and dropped between her breasts then rolled down to tickle along her chest and belly. She pulled her hands along the smooth columns of muscle on either side of his spine. There was so much power and strength in his body held under tight control. Damp tendrils of hair clung to his neck and face. She lowered her hands further to grip the rounded buttocks and squeezed. He moaned and buried his face in her neck, his breath hot against her skin.

Jolts of pleasure spiked through her legs. He felt good…so good. Her breasts ached and swelled against his chest; the nipples tingled, antagonized by the friction of their skin. She rocked against him, rose to meet him, and fought to pull away all at the same time…aching…straining. His fingers slid up her sides and tangled in her hair as he ravaged her mouth with his tongue.
 

Primitive instinct overtook her reason. Nothing mattered anymore but the need to mate with this man. She struggled beneath him in an attempt to get closer, to draw him inside her. She wanted more...needed more. As if he read her mind, he slipped a hand between them and began to stroke her with the perfect combination of pressure and speed. The forgotten bottle of wine spilled onto the blanket and into the grass next to the overturned plate of cheese.
 

 
“Raise your knees up, baby.” When she lifted her legs, he hooked an elbow behind one of her knees and pulled it up toward her ear, opening and exposing her for his pleasure. He slid deeper still then began a fast unsettling rhythm. Her nails dug into his back until his breath hissed from the pleasure of the pain. Every stroke forced the air from her lungs in a hiss. Any delusions of self-control disappeared as he moved her body with his, orchestrating her movements with skill and dexterity.

 
“I can’t take any more.” She arched into him, pressing her breasts flat against his chest. “Please, Jack!”

“I want all of you, Ally. Every damn inch.” Even as she writhed, he stayed inside her, always inside her. Even his labored breathing excited her. “Do you like this, baby? Are you going to come for me?”
 

As his teeth nipped along her shoulder, she shuddered and did her best to comply. She hovered on the precipice between the ultimate bliss and complete surrender. This was what she had been searching for. How could she have gone a lifetime and never known this kind of pleasure existed? She shuddered again. It was going to happen. She was going to come. Jack Jameson was going to rock her world.
 

Thoughts tumbled over each other. Jack pried open a door that had long been locked, but her mind slammed it shut again. Her body shut down.
No, no, no
, she thought, in a panic. Not when she was so close to losing herself. She closed her eyes and tried to regain the feeling, but fear replaced desire. She just couldn’t allow herself to let go. As if he sensed the shift within her, Jack stopped and stroked the side of her face with a finger.

“Look at me, Ally.” His deep voice cut through her confusion. She opened her eyes and found him looking back at her. She started to close her eyes again, embarrassed. “No, don’t look away. I’ve got you. Stay with me.”

His eyes were fathomless pools of liquid chocolate, deep and warm and hypnotic. The rhythm of his hips altered but remained relentless. Their breathing synchronized. Every nerve ending in her body sang with pleasure.

“Jack?” His name slipped from her lips with uncertainty, but she kept her eyes trained on his.
 

“That’s right. Breathe through it. Don’t fight it. Feel me inside you.”
 

She
could
feel him – every smooth, hard inch of him – as he stroked into her. A sudden sense of power and euphoria surged through her as she saw the expression of pleasure on his face, pleasure that she gave him with her body. Her legs stiffened and jerked. Lightning bolts of ecstasy streaked from her groin to her toes as she burst into orgasm.

It was so much more than she’d ever dreamed. Emotions tumbled over each other as she stared into Jack’s eyes. A connection stretched between them, hot and sizzling like a live wire. With a shudder, he came inside her. He was so freaking beautiful with his breath hissing through full trembling lips, nostrils flared, and his body heaving against hers. She wrapped her legs tight around his hips until they both collapsed in exhaustion.
 

Sometime later, when they had both stopped trembling, he pulled out of her, took off the condom and tossed it into the bag of trash. Even though the air was still hot, a cooler breeze swept over his sweat soaked chest and raised gooseflesh on his arms. Unfamiliar emotions surged through him. The connection between them had been more than physical. So much more. It had been deep, powerful,
emotional
– and he had no idea how to deal with it. His theories of cheap and meaningless sex flew out the window. One time and he was hooked on her like an addict.
 

“What’s the matter?” Her voice, smooth and soft with satisfaction, floated through the quagmire of his thoughts.
 

“Nothing. It’s all good.” He kept his face turned away. The tinny sound of his voice was foreign, like it came from far away, too forced to be natural. Part of him wanted to hold her, to murmur in her hair, and bask in the moment of intimacy, but he wasn’t quite sure how to go about it. It was all so new to him. He made a move toward her, but she sat up and started to put on her clothes as if ready to leave.

“Do you think it’s going to rain?” she asked. “I left one of the windows open at my house.” The words were cool and impersonal, as if she was making small talk with a stranger.

The nonchalance of her voice cut him. Hadn’t she felt the connection between them? She didn’t act like it. It struck him that their roles had somehow reversed, that Ally had become him in this situation. This was exactly how he had treated the others, with casual indifference after an intimate act, throwing up an emotional wall to keep anyone from getting too close. Except it had been more than casual to him. It had been more. And he wanted it to be more for her as well.

Insecurity wasn’t his style. He should be the one dressing with haste, eager to move on, not her. After all, he had promised her pleasure without commitment, sex without love, and he had delivered. He always delivered, so why should it bother him so much this time? The answer stared him in the face with gaunt, vacant eyes. It was the emptiness. He was sick and tired of the emptiness.
 

Ally blew out a deep sigh, still basking in the endorphins of release. It was as if a valve had been opened, releasing all the pent up pressure she’d been holding back for so long. She risked a glance at Jack, to see if he’d felt it, too – the connection between them. The handsome face gave nothing away, but his usual half smile had disappeared. A little of her euphoria slipped away. Was he disappointed? It was by far the best sex she’d ever had, made even more spectacular by his insistence that she lock her gaze with his. Those deep dark eyes had tugged at her emotions and it had taken everything she had to shut down her feelings before they took her over. He would hate that…hate
her
…if she fell for him like all the rest. If he knew that he’d gotten to her, he would never respect her.

“I suppose we need to get back,” she said. With concerted effort, she forced her features to mirror his expression of indifference. She reached for her blouse, but Jack saw her intent and snatched it up before she could get to it. He held it up over his head like a third grader at recess playing keep away. She made a feeble grab for the blouse, but he was much too tall. “Come on. It’s late and I need to get home. I have to work tomorrow.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he said. His eyes glittered like black onyx, almost as if he was angry with her. He seemed oblivious to his own nakedness and unconcerned about hers. Despite the heat, she snatched the blanket from the ground and wrapped it around her shoulders.

You got what you wanted. No strings. No guilt
, she told herself.
Don’t be a baby about this.
She spun around in a circle, looking for her panties. They were nowhere to be found.

“Are we good here, Popsicle?” The look of puzzlement on his face brought a quick stab of guilt to her gut, along with relief that some emotional distance had been forced between them. “You aren’t going to get weird on me, are you?”