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As if to prove her point, she lifted her legs entirely and wrapped them around his hips, plunging him deeper inside her. He groaned, a visceral, carnal sound, and then he began moving faster. And each time Bridget lifted her hips to meet him, he plunged into her deeper and faster, as though he was no longer in control, until all she could hear was their ragged breathing. Proof that she wasn’t the only one so close to the edge.
Dipping his head, Hayden found the juncture of her neck and shoulder again, making her arch her back and thrust her breasts against his chest, her nipples raking across his smattering of hairs and driving her wild.
With every stroke she clung to him harder, opened to him more. Deeper, and faster, and stronger. And for a moment everything hung around her, captured in a perfect snapshot in time.
But then she was flying again, rushing towards a brilliant light, unable to stop herself. Only this time when she fractured, and splintered, and finally fell, all the while screaming Hayden’s name, he followed her, calling out her name, too.
* * *
It was pitch black when Hayden woke, with her still in his arms. The subtle coconut scent of her luxurious hair infiltrated his nostrils, making him want to inhale deeply. To breathe in the essence of her.
They’d made love—had sex, he corrected himself swiftly—twice more since that first time. Once in the shower and once back in bed. And even now his body started to harden, aching to take her again. And again.
He couldn’t quite shake the odd sensation that moved through him. As if this woman was different from any other that he’d known. As if he was never going to quite get enough of her.
The next instant he shoved it aside.
Ridiculous.
Still, he didn’t want to move. He didn’t want to break contact with her. But, perhaps sensing his wakened state, Bridget stirred in his arms, stretching elegantly before opening her eyes.
And blinked at him.
He might not be able to explain it but there was no stopping the grin that spread across his face. He found that he was captivated by her. And he had to tell himself, several times, that he didn’t like that fact.
It wasn’t until she shifted in his arms, her expression shutting down, that he realised he’d started to frown.
‘Should I...go?’ she asked hesitantly.
‘No, don’t.’
He hadn’t meant to say it. In fact, he’d been telling himself that if she left it was probably for the best. As if to compound things, he opened his mouth again, his voice just as rough and abrasive.
‘Stay.’
‘Stay?’ she breathed, clutching the sheet in her delicate hands and pulling it up to cover her breasts.
A fact that his brain—and his body—were already lamenting.
‘Stay,’ he repeated, reaching over to pull her back down onto the bed. And onto him. ‘A little longer.’
‘With you?’
He heard his own laugh, like a roll of thunder, and wondered how it sounded like nothing he’d ever heard before. Yet he laughed. Not infrequently either. But never like this, with such pleasure.
‘Definitely with me,’ he growled, before settling her astride him.
Her entire, sublime fifties pin-up body on show for him. Her glossy, black hair cascading over her shoulders, down her back, sneaking over one breast.
He reached out and brushed it away, his body tensing even more as she exhaled and shivered on him when he brushed one already taut nipple.
‘Is this just muddying things that we’ve complicated enough?’ she asked, but he couldn’t help but notice that she said it with more than a little reluctance.
They both knew what they were doing was insane, but neither of them could bring themselves to stop.
‘In less than a week we’ll be in a foreign country,’ he noted. ‘You’ll be looking after people, and I’ll be looking after your clinic, making sure there is adequate drainage, fresh water, power.’
‘I know that.’ She pursed her lips. ‘So how does that help what we’re doing here? Now? Surely it’s...inappropriate.’
