CHAPTER NINE
Sloane stood there, gaze locked on Nick’s, her heart pounding wildly against her ribs. A hint of pine radiated off his skin, tempered by the lingering scent of antibiotic cream she’d spread on his leg. His words hung in the air, daring her to deny what she’d been fighting for months.
That in the end, the only one stopping them from being together was her.
She reached up, palmed his cheek. “I…” She paused, still trying to find the right words when the truth slipped free. “If we cross this line, there’s no going back.”
The corner of his mouth quirked. “Good, because I can’t live with things the way they are. Me, here. You…” He sighed. “Everyone keeps saying Oregon looks good on me, but the truth is, it’s missing a piece because I left the best part of me back in Virginia. So, either tell me you don’t have feelings for me — that you’re not dying inside every second we’re apart — and I’ll let this go.”
Sloane tilted her head to the side, heart thrashing, fire burning beneath her skin from the mere thought of where this was heading — where she’d wanted it to go for far too long. “Or…”
He dipped down, hovered his mouth a breath from hers. “Or shut up, and let me make love to you.”
Nick waited, his eyes searching hers, the weight of his statement adding to the electricity sparking between them. She stared up at him, aware there had never really been any other option but to fall — trust he’d catch her.
She took a breath, the hand on his cheek shaking as she slid her fingers back, tangling them in his hair. “Then, what are you waiting for?”
A sexy smile curved his lips before he stepped into her, pinning her between his chest and the wall as he slanted his mouth over hers, delved inside.
Sloane moaned, wrapped her other hand around his back, held him tight, all that heat beneath her flesh burning to life. If she’d thought the kiss on his bed the other night had been intense, this made it seem tame, all lips and tongues, his body hot and hard against hers.
He shifted, had her riding his thigh for a few moments before he scooped her up, headed for the bed. She wrapped her legs around his waist, tried to bridge some of her weight in case his one leg buckled. Not that Nick seemed concerned, one hand fisted in her hair, holding her head steady as he claimed her mouth.
They tumbled onto the bed still kissing, his weight crushing her into the mattress, spiking her need until she thought she’d go over before he’d even touched her. He eased back, looked down at her, his brown hair teasing his eyes, all the shadows from the previous week fading into heat and need and something far more dangerous.
He shifted his weight onto one elbow, traced his thumb across her jaw with his other hand. “You really are stunning.”
She smiled up at him, brushing his hair back from his eyes. “And you’re downright gorgeous when you’re not bleeding all over the furniture. Which seems to be your default.”
“Not tonight.”
“Night’s not over.”
He laughed, the rich sound settling low in her belly. “God, I’ve missed you. Never knew how much you kept me sane simply by being in the same space. Just breathing.”
He drew a finger down her neck, across her chest, pausing to circle her breast. “Last chance to back out before I’m too far gone to hear anything other than how much you want me to make you scream.”
She swallowed, coughed, arching into his touch as he lowered his hand to her waist, fisted the hem. She pushed onto her elbows, nipping at his lip before licking the small hurt. “Whatever happened to shutting up and just loving me? Because I don’t want an out, Nick. I want you, pounding me into this crappy mattress until neither of us can move.”
Nick closed his eyes, a low rasp rumbling free before he tugged her against him. “Then I suggest you get comfortable because this could take the rest of the night.”
He kissed her hard, demanding, as if she’d unlocked a part of him he’d hidden away. Hadn’t trusted anyone enough to expose. She responded in kind, tearing off his shirt, working his belt and fly until she had the sides apart, a swath of white cotton visible beneath the denim.
Her sweater vanished a heartbeat later, Nick’s muscular form disappearing behind a flash of blue before he tossed the garment on the floor, moved both hands to her chest. A tug and a lift, and her sports bra flew over her head, landing somewhere behind him. With a little shimmying on her end, he had her pants yanked over her hips, pooling at her feet before he pulled them free, leaving them in a heap.
She shivered, nothing but a flimsy scrap of fabric left between her and him. He thumbed the delicate edge, tracing her outline through the cotton before easing it over her hips, leaving her wearing nothing but the cool air and all his sizzling heat.
He moved between her thighs, easing her against him as he kissed her so damn softly, she thought her heart would pound out of her chest — try to join his. He didn’t rush, as if he’d flicked a switch and decided they had nothing but time. As if she wasn’t melting into a puddle of lust from the gentle press of his hand, or how he made playful swirls across her skin as he kissed his way down her neck, sipping her nipple into his mouth.
Her head fell back, her fingers landing in his hair as he tugged, then licked, switching sides until tears leaked out of her eyes, every nerve worn thin. He moved back to her neck, biting at the corded muscle, smiling against her skin when she cried out his name.
He chuckled, easing back enough to look her in the eyes. “God, you’re responsive. I could do this for days.”
“Try it, and I’ll shoot you, myself.” She palmed his chest, shoved. “My turn.”
“But I haven’t even gotten to the best part, yet.”
Sloane leveled her gaze at him. “Which is why it’s my turn, because I know once you touch me like that, neither of us will be able to stop, so…”
