Back in His Bed. Heidi Rice
a smile. “It may have lacked finesse, but my motives were clear.”
“Once more for old times’ sake?” Her voice shook, completely destroying the casual tone she was hoping for.
“Is that really such a shocker, Bren? The pool, the moonlight…Are you denying it stirred up some fond memories for you, too?”
“Emphatically.” She just needed to keep reminding herself of that.
“You’re a bad liar. I was there, remember? I had my hands on you. I felt the way you shivered when you remembered exactly how good we were together.”
“In bed, maybe. But I also remember the rest of our, ahem, ‘conversation’ last night. That also brought back memories—not all of them fond ones.”
“We had some good times. You can’t deny that.” His hand came up to play with her hair.
“Not enough to tip the balance.” She shuddered as his hand moved to her face. “We said—and did—some pretty horrible things to each other.”
He shrugged away months of arguments and years of pain with “We were young. I’m not carrying a grudge. Are you?”
“From then? Or now?” she countered, mainly to keep him talking. She couldn’t pull away, but this was moving into dangerous territory.
“Ten years is a long time to carry a grudge.” His eyes searched her face and she shivered. “Me? I’m grudge-free.”
“Then, here’s to putting the past behind us. Should we drink to that?” Anything to put a little distance between them.
Jack shook his head slightly. He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, then traced his fingers over the curve of her jaw. “Beautiful. Tempting. Stubborn.”
He was close—too close—his face only inches from hers. The gentle caress over sensitive skin and his husky, seductive voice sucked her in, while those blue eyes captured her and led her straight into temptation.
And she desperately wanted to go. Every nerve in her body screamed for Jack to touch her. Her skin begged for it. She’d suffered the aftermath of last night all day—the achy need, the smoldering want. Her mouth went dry as Jack’s hand curved around the nape of her neck and his thumb smoothed over the tense muscles.
Just one more time. Do you think you’ll ever get this chance again? Once her signature was on those papers, she’d have no reason to see Jack again. That thought put a strange hollow feeling in her chest—one that felt oddly familiar, yet strange, because until yesterday she would have sworn she was long over him.
Jack reached up to remove the clip holding her hair back, and his fingers threaded through the mass to massage her scalp. She closed her eyes in bliss as the tension drained out of her, only for it to be replaced with an aching need. When she opened her eyes again she met Jack’s stare, and gasped at the hunger and promise she saw there.
She was lost and she knew it. She always was when Jack looked at her like that. Anger, bruised pride, indignant huffs—none of it was able to stand firm against the need and desire he could fire in her.
Jack seemed to know the moment she made up her mind, and he surged to his knees, pulling her to him and covering her mouth with his.
Yesss. Oh, yes.
It wasn’t gentle. Or nostalgic or sweet. Jack met her hunger head-on and returned it, his mouth devouring hers. His fingers tightened in her hair, holding her head still as his tongue slid over hers, and she shivered in response.
Jack broke the kiss, sliding his mouth over her jaw to the sensitive skin of her neck. She panted, gasping for air as his teeth grazed her, and she tilted her head back to allow him greater access even as her fingers threaded through his hair to hold him there.
She hadn’t forgotten this, but the memory was bland compared to the reality. She groaned, and Jack echoed the sound before his arms locked around her waist and he pulled her off the couch and into his lap.
The feel of Jack’s hard body against hers as she straddled his thighs sent tremors through her insides, and she pressed into him, craving the heat and pressure. She pulled at his shirt, bunching it into her hands until she could reach underneath to feel the smooth planes of muscle on his back.
Jack’s hot mouth traced her collarbone as his hands slid over her hips to her waist, and finally her ribs, where his thumbs could stroke teasingly against the undersides of her breasts. Her nipples tightened with anticipation and she arched back in invitation.
Instead, Jack pulled her close, his mouth covering hers again, his hands snaking under the hem of her shirt and sliding it up with agonizing slowness. He broke the kiss to sweep the fabric over her head, then gently leaned her back, supporting her with one hand while the other grazed gently over the expanse of her chest and in the valley between her aching breasts.
Brenna shivered, enjoying the tease of his touch yet hating the delay. She was on fire, needing more of him—all of him—before the anticipation killed her. One finger circled her nipple, causing her to clench her thighs around his as the pleasure rippled through her. The corner of Jack’s mouth turned up in pleasure at her response as he drove her slowly insane with his featherlight touch.
Brenna concentrated on her shaking hands, reaching for the buttons of his shirt. Clumsily, she managed to work them through their holes, pausing occasionally to bite her lip when Jack’s slow, deliberate torture became too much. Finally, she pushed the shirt off his shoulders, and his chest was hers to touch.
She echoed his movements, running her fingertips over the ridge of his pecs, teasing his nipples with her nails. His fingers tightened on her waist when he shuddered in pleasure.
A split second later Jack flipped her to her back, her head landing on the cushion he’d used earlier, and his body finally covered hers. She moaned at the sensation of skin against skin, at the heat and weight of his body nestled in the vee of her legs. How could she have forgotten this? The memories paled in comparison to the reality. How had she ever walked away from this? Jack’s kiss sent her head spinning, but when his head dipped lower to capture her nipple between his lips fireworks exploded behind her eyes and she groaned his name.
The sound seemed to spur him, and he suckled harder, causing her to nearly arch off the floor as pleasure shot through her. When his weight shifted off her, she reached for his waist to pull him back, but let her hand fall away when she felt the snap of her shorts release and the zipper give way.
Her stomach tightened under his hand as it slid low and his fingertips tickled along the edge of her panties, while Jack’s mouth returned to hers for a shattering kiss. But one rational thought surfaced and made a weak, last-ditch effort: This is the point of no return. Are you sure?
Her body answered first, twisting toward him, granting access, but Jack seemed to hesitate briefly, his kiss gentling as if he knew she was fighting one last battle against herself.
Yes.
She knew what Jack could do to her body; the guaranteed pleasure awaiting her. But she’d been faced with the hard fact today that she wasn’t as immune to him as she’d long assumed, and deep down she knew she’d be setting herself up for a bad fall in the morning, when Jack walked out of her life again.
Was it worth the risk?
Then Jack pushed the thin silk aside, and his fingers found her heated, needy center. Flames licked through her, leaving her panting against his kiss.
Oh, yes.
Jack felt the last of the uncertainty leave her body just as her thighs clamped around his hand and she shuddered in pleasure. He felt as if he was holding a live wire, and each little sound, every gasp, every tremor, zinged through him like raw electricity.
The need to taste her, to take her, bordered on painful—even more so than the pressure against his zipper—but Brenna was already on the brink. She tore her mouth away and buried her