"Jen," he murmurs against my lips. "Are you sure about this?"
"About what?" I tease, rolling my hips again.
"This. Us." His eyes search mine, serious despite the desire darkening them. "Where this is heading."
I cup his face in my hands. "I'm sure about right now. About wanting you. The rest we'll figure out as we go. Day by day, remember?"
He nods, then stands suddenly, lifting me with him. I wrap my legs around his waist, clinging to his shoulders as he carries me toward the stairs.
"Show off," I laugh against his neck. "Using all those mountain muscles."
"You like my muscles," he growls, nipping playfully at my earlobe.
"I do. Especially when they're put to good use."
He carries me to the bedroom, our bedroom, and sets me gently on the bed. For a moment he just stands there, looking down at me with an intensity that steals my breath.
"Last chance to back out," he says softly.
In answer, I grab the hem of my sweater and pull it over my head, leaving me in just my bra and leggings. His eyes darken, taking in every inch of newly exposed skin.
"Your move, Calloway," I challenge.
He pulls his henley off in one smooth motion, revealing a torso that makes my mouth go dry. Broad shoulders. Defined chest. Muscular arms. And scars. More than just the one on his face. A puckered burn mark spans his right side. Smaller marks dot his chest and shoulders. Battle wounds from the fire that nearly killed him.
I reach out, tracing the largest scar with gentle fingers. "Does it hurt?"
"Not anymore." He catches my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm. "But they're not pretty."
"They're part of you." I tug him down until he's kneeling on the bed over me. "And I happen to like every part of you."
His kiss is deep and consuming, like he's trying to express everything he can't say with words. I lose myself in it, in the feel of his weight pressing me into the mattress, the slide of his hands exploring my body, the heat building between us.
"God, you're gorgeous," he breathes, eyes roaming over my naked body. "Every inch of you."
"Not so bad yourself, Mountain Man." I run my hands over his chest, enjoying the way the muscles jump beneath my touch.
He kisses his way down my neck, across my collarbone, then lower, taking a nipple into his mouth. I arch into the sensation, a moan escaping before I can stop it. His hand slides down my stomach, fingers teasing along the inside of my thigh.
"Jared," I gasp as his touch drifts higher. "Please."
"Please what?" His breath is hot against my breast as he moves to the other one. "Talk to me, Jen. I want to hear you say it." His fingers trace maddening patterns on my inner thigh, soclose to where I need him but not quite there. "Tell me what you want, baby."
The endearment, so casual yet so intimate, makes my heart race faster. "Touch me," I breathe. “Then I want you to drink every drop of what you do to me. All of it."
A smile curves his lips, predatory and promising. "Good. Because I want you too. Every inch of you."
His fingers finally, finally slide where I need them most, finding me already wet and ready for him. I cry out at the contact, hips rising to meet his touch.
"So responsive," he murmurs, watching my face as he works me with clever fingers. "So perfect."
He kisses his way down my body, replacing his fingers with his mouth, and I nearly come off the bed. He holds my hips steady with strong hands, devouring me like a man starved. The sight of his dark head between my thighs, the feel of his tongue working magic, the soft groans he makes against me, all combine to send me hurtling toward the edge embarrassingly quickly.
"Jared," I warn, fingers tangling in his hair. "I'm going to..."
"Let go." He looks up at me, eyes dark with desire. "I want to taste you when you come."
His words push me over, pleasure exploding through me in waves as he continues his relentless attention. When I finally come down, trembling and gasping, he kisses his way back up my body, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
