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“That’s it, baby,” he snarled from somewhere above her ear. “Hold on to me.”
That was all she was capable of doing.
Her nails bit into his upper arms as she arched to him, moving against him as he thrust inside her, retreated, and returned. The feeling of him moving inside her was incredible. It was like this every time, each time he took her, each time he filled her.
“Jack…” she gasped, fighting for breath, for air, as she arched against him, the white-hot sensations overwhelming her senses.
The sensitive inner muscles clenched around him, stretched to their limit, and revealing nerve endings that rioted in excited stimulation. He stroked each one of them as he moved inside, pushing her hard, filling her with that incredible drive to ecstasy.
Each throb of the thick stalk of flesh echoed along her pussy, each fierce penetration stroked her, burying inside her, possessing her and burning wild inside her.
Oh God, she never wanted it to end. She wanted this forever: to hold it, to hold him, forever inside her. Her pussy clenched around him with every hard thrust, fighting to hold him inside.
She could feel his cock burrowing inside her, the thick crest parting her inner flesh as he thrust to the hilt repeatedly. Plunging deep, hard, he sent ecstasy careening inside her, building the sensation to a completion she knew would change her forever.
His erection shafted inside her, nearly bruising in its width, an iron-hard presence filling her with such incredible, completely radiant pleasure, building inside her, overtaking her.
One minute she was fighting to hold back the cataclysm she knew was coming, and in the next instant it had her.
Poppy was only barely aware of her teeth locking on Jack’s upper arm. As keening cries escaped her throat, her back arched and complete, burning ecstasy exploded along every nerve ending in her body. Shudders raced through her, over her, as wave after wave tore through her.
She felt him thrust deep again, and his cock throbbed harder as the waves of chaos coalesced into a blinding, white-hot ribbon of pure sensation.
“I love you…” she whispered. “So much, Jack. I love you.”
He didn’t say the words back, but that was okay, she told herself. He cared, and for Jack, that was more than any other man’s greatest vows of devotion.
“You’re mine, Poppy,” he told her, his breathing still harsh as he rolled beside her and pulled her into his arms. “Remember that. Mine.”
Yeah, she was his.
This man who believed he didn’t have a heart, who believed he couldn’t feel emotion as others did, but whom she knew cared for her. And for now, she’d accept that.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Caine closed himself in the silence of his home, teeth clenching with restrained fury. He wanted nothing more than to slice open Bridger’s throat, as the other man had sliced Rollins and his team.
Bastard.
He’d known when he heard Bridger had arrived in Barboursville early for his summer visit home that it was going to be trouble. Even though he’d been expecting it for the past several years, he’d hoped the SEAL would put it off just one more year. Hell, just one more month. Six weeks at the most.
Instead, he’d arrived right in the middle of one of the most dangerous and profitable jobs he’d ever taken. This one would have set him up for life. No more risking his reputation or his life. He and his partner had decided this would be the final job, simply because they were fighting against technology that was becoming more advanced by the year and making Homeland Security more efficient in locating and catching those trying to work in ways that didn’t suit their so-called laws.
If he could pull this job off, then that could change, but still, he wanted out. He was nearly forty. He needed to settle down, maybe have a few kids. A man who took the risks he took had no business having a family. Wives got suspicious, they mentioned things, they became a weakness. He didn’t want to have to kill the woman he chose to have his children. And he didn’t want one that was a part of those risks, either.
As soon as Bridger and the three men riding with him had arrived, his employer had demanded they be offered the contract. Crossfield didn’t trust Jack and his men, and neither did his partner. He was a wild card: violent, yes, without mercy, definitely, but there was something about the man that Caine had never liked.
His employer was making this particular job a pain in the ass, too. The money to be gained would make it worth it. Even the first third, already deposited in his overseas account, was enough to retire on. The rest, though… It would make him nearly untouchable.
He pulled his mobile phone from inside his jacket, stared at it for moment, then made the call he’d been putting off since getting in the car.
“Crossfield.” The voice was cool, female. No accent, but smooth and sensual all the same. “Have you made the offer as you were asked to do?”
He breathed out heavily. “Are you certain about this team?” he asked. “It wouldn’t take long to get someone else in if we offer the right amount of money.”
Silence filled the line for a moment. “Is there something I should know where the Bridger team is concerned? Something you haven’t reported yet?”
“I’ve reported everything,” he assured her, the anger in his tone impossible to hide. “But I’m telling you, the woman he’s sleeping with has been poking her nose into things that shouldn’t concern her. If she becomes involved, he’ll be loyal to her.”
