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He gripped the arms of the chair, forcing himself to stay put. He would sit there until she got in her car and drove away. Not get up and follow her.
He sat, waiting, listening for the sound of a closing door or the roar of an engine. His eyes scanning the road for some sign of her departure. The longer he waited, the more frustrated he became. He pushed out of his chair, searching the dark as he crossed the porch. He saw her, illuminated by strands of white lights and several tiki torches, walking across the lawn toward the lake. She wasn’t getting in her car. She wasn’t leaving.
And he was going after her.
Every step he told himself he was headed for trouble. This attraction was combustible. Now that they were bound by more than this out-of-control physical connection, he’d be smart to turn and run the other way. But when she glanced over her shoulder, the ghost of a smile on her mouth, he gave up. He followed her, he had to. She wanted him to. And he wanted her.
She wandered toward one of the cabanas, circling a fire pit before she stopped, her gaze locking with his through the flames. He kept moving until she was within arm’s reach. He froze, wishing he had some logical explanation for his behavior. He was following her around like a dog in heat. Telling her he needed her so bad it hurt probably wasn’t the best way to start. Or the most reassuring thing to hear either. But it was the only explanation he had.
So he didn’t say anything. His hands cupped her cheeks, tilting her head back. In the shadows cast by the fires, her eyes were fathomless, and he could see the hunger on her face...hear the rasp of her aroused breathing.
She ran a hand through his hair before taking his hand and leading him into the cabana. The building was small, one solid back wall with rolled-up bamboo sides. He watched her untie the bamboo, her fingers tripping over the knots. She’d known he was watching her, wanting her, and brought him here. Because she wanted him, too. His heart picked up, his lungs emptied and his body grew rock hard. She couldn’t crave him the way he did her, but it didn’t matter. He remembered the feel of her, the taste of her. And he couldn’t wait to have her again.
She had two sides down when he pulled her back against his chest. She shuddered, her head falling back against his shoulder as his hands roamed across her stomach. He pinned her hips against his, his erection pressing against the soft curve of her ass. His mouth descended on her shoulder. She tasted like heaven and felt even better. When his teeth latched on to her earlobe, she melted into him, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck.
His hands slid up her sides, his fingertips tracing the outer swell of her breasts. Her husky breath filled the cabana, a soft moan escaping as her hands twisted in his hair. Knowing she wanted him—the way he wanted her—was empowering. He caught her chin, angling her head, ready to kiss her. Her brown eyes were glazed, and her lips parted in invitation.
His mouth claimed hers. He’d never felt so desperate. So hungry. So uncontrolled. Something about her in his arms. She turned, pressing her curves against him as her mouth opened to him. His tongue thrust deep into the heat of her mouth, making her groan. He gripped the back of her head, holding her closer. She clung, hands tugging his shirt free from his pants. Soft fingers traced his waist, sharp nails scoured his back. His body responded, demanding more. He held her so tightly he worried he’d crush her. But when he tried to put space between them, she whispered, “No,” before kissing him in a way that left no room for misinterpretation.
His shirt was gone. His pants unfastened. He untied her dress, choking back a moan at the feel of her breasts filling his hands. He bent, nipping and kissing each peak until they were hard and Cady was frantic. He liked her like this, wild and out of her mind for him. He laid her on one of the chaise longues, holding her head as he kissed her.
His hand slid beneath her skirts, cupping her buttock.
“You’re so damn soft,” he bit out as his fingers trailed the edge of her panties.
She didn’t say anything, but her gaze never left his face.
He tugged her panties down, unable to stop his groan when her legs opened for him. Seeing her sprawled breathless and waiting on that chaise was the hottest thing he’d ever seen. He knelt between her legs, pulling her hips to the edge of the chaise. She stretched her arms up, holding on to the back of the chaise.
He was lost in the silk of her skin beneath his hands. Her toned legs wrapped around his hips, the heat of her core inviting him closer. The noise he made as he slid into her tight warmth was part curse, part roar—but he couldn’t stop it. All he knew was he was where he needed to be.
* * *
CADY’S LUNGS EMPTIED. Patton... Oh, Patton. Her body was his when she was with him. Something about the way he looked at her. Touched her. Filled her. She couldn’t get enough.
He moved leisurely, almost leaving her before sliding deep. Her body adjusted to his size, submitting to the power and seduction of his rhythm. Each stroke hit deep, teasing that spot inside and drowning her to pure sensation—over and over. He was relentless, pushing her to her limits. She tightened her legs around him, wanting more. “Patton,” she murmured, his name a broken moan.
“I’ve got you,” he ground out, thrusting home. Once. Again. The light dusting of hair on his chest brushed against her inflamed skin, and it was too much. She clung to the chaise lounge, her body rocking with him.
His tongue flicked her nipple, teasing, light, then sucking it deep in his mouth. She groaned, broken and raw. She wasn’t usually a vocal lover, but with Patton...
She reveled in each touch, each sound. The feel of his stubble on her breasts and stomach. The deep groan when she let go of the chaise longue and gripped his hips. The decadent slide of his flesh against hers. She felt the rapid tensing of her body and welcomed the promise of release. He arched back, his hands caressing her throat and stomach, before they pinned her hips in place. She writhed, wanting to press against him, but he held her still—drawing out her pleasure, heightening every sensation. One hand cupped her cheek while the other slid between her legs. His finger was featherlight against the tight bud between her legs. Her body shook, his fingers working her over. She stared up at him, willing to beg for more. She hadn’t been prepared for his raw hunger, his locked jaw and flared nostrils. But seeing him like that made her body convulse, clenching tightly around him, racked with wave after wave of her release.
His groan was ragged, his fingers biting into her hips as his climax tore through him. She watched, alarmingly aroused by the pure carnal power of it.
He rested his head on her chest, his ragged breathing soothing and tormenting her still-tingling skin.
She lay there... The realization of what she’d done hitting her. She’d broken her rule. A one-night stand meant one night. No complications, no expectations, no...entanglements. Why did she break her rule with this guy? When they would be thrown together again and again.
Panic gripped her.
She had to leave. But Patton lay atop her. And he smelled like heaven—felt like heaven. She was distracted by the brush of his fingers against her side, the scratch of his whiskers against her breast. Her breath faltered. She’d just had one hell of an orgasm, and she still wanted more. No, she still wanted Patton. This was bad. She didn’t want things to get complicated... Well, any more complicated.
She drew in a deep breath.
It’s no big deal. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to touch him. He was all muscle. Rigid and delicious. Her hands rested lightly on Patton’s chest, her fingers settling on the ridge of his scars. She kept her touch light, tracing the uneven skin, stroking around the muscular shoulder to his back. There were more scars. Two, circular and uneven.
