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He could tell himself he needed to send Taylor away, but it was too late for that part of his brain to take control again.
Pulling her as close as their bodies would allow, he cupped her bottom, keeping her firmly against him as he covered her lips with his.
Sweet heavens. She tasted good.
He caught her soft sigh of relief and then lost himself in the desperation of how she returned his just-as-desperate kisses.
He wanted to see her, to know what was showing in her eyes as he ran his hands over her breasts, her hips, between her legs. But to turn on any sort of light would illuminate them to anyone walking by so he used his other senses to immortalize her.
The feel of her. The taste of her. The smell of her.
When she was ready, he donned a condom, maneuvered to where he was positioned just right, thrilled at how her fingers dug into his shoulders as he pushed inside, fought losing control at her soft whimper of pleasure as he moved his hips and she wrapped her legs around him, taking him as deep as he’d go.
Fighting to hold in his desire to roar, Jack brought her to the brink over and over until she desperately clung to him, quivering with her release, until his own body refused to hold back another moment and he lost himself.
His breathing hard, his chest feeling as if it was going to burst open, he collapsed on top of her. Then, worrying he was too heavy, he went to roll off, but she stopped him.
“Don’t,” she whispered. “Let me enjoy this for a little longer before you roll over to go to sleep.”
Was she kidding him?
No way was he rolling over to go to sleep when she was naked and in his bed. But her words reminded him of how fragile she really was, of why he shouldn’t have allowed what had happened to happen in a tent where they’d had to keep quiet, had needed to limit their body movements, had had to restrain the guttural reactions to just how good the other felt.
Because he had no doubt Taylor had felt good.
His own body tightened again. She’d wanted him to stay where he was, so she had no one to blame except herself when he started nuzzling her neck and running his hands over her body. Again.
Because that’s what he wanted.
To touch her all over.
This time slower, surer, making it all about her, catching her moans with his kisses.
* * *
Jack wasn’t sure what time Taylor had left his tent, but he woke alone, naked, and feeling a lot better than a man should fee
l who’d only slept a few hours.
At least, he thought it had only been a few hours. Stretching his arms over his head, he acknowledged that for all he knew it could be afternoon.
His tent was hot enough for it to be midday.
He dressed, unzipped the tent, and stepped out, immediately looked toward Taylor’s tent. She was nowhere to be seen.
“Haven’t seen her since early this morning.”
Raking his hand through his hair, Jack turned toward Duffy. The older man sat in a chair, a soda in one hand and his cellphone in the other.
“’Bout what time would that have been?”
“You mean when I saw her sneaking out of your tent or when she left to go and shower?” Duffy stared at him with narrowed eyes. “Or later when she came back, put her stuff away, then took off almost immediately rather than talk with me?”
He met the older man’s gaze and knew there was no point in denying any of the accusations in his friend’s eyes. Instead of saying anything further, he opened his cooler and pulled out a drink, took a long swig, then went over to where Duffy was sitting.
“Take your pick.”
Duffy’s stare was uncompromising. “You going to hurt that girl?”
