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She fumbled with the buttons of his jeans and felt the hard, rearing shape of him beneath her fingers. He was brutally aroused and he covered her hands with his as they stripped off her jeans first, and then his.
When he lifted his mouth from hers, she protested.
“Don’t—”
“In my pocket...” He kissed her mouth and then her jaw. “Condom.”
She let him go long enough for him to retrieve it from his wallet, and then she felt the coolness of the air on her skin, the gentle slide of his palm against her thigh and the slow, skilled stroke of his fingers against aching flesh. She almost sobbed with relief, burying her face in his neck as she gasped out his name. His touch became more intimate and she brought her mouth back to his, restless, fitful and needy as he found the most sensitive part of her with breath-stealing accuracy.
There was a brief pause as he dealt with the condom and then he lifted her in a single easy movement. Keeping her mouth on his, she wrapped her legs around his waist and dug her hands into the solid bulk of his shoulders to steady herself. Her head was spinning and she felt as if she was falling, falling.
“I missed you.” He breathed the words against her mouth again and again, missed you, missed you, and each time the words were interspersed with slow carnal kisses that sent her heat levels soaring.
She’d mis
sed him, too.
The world around them faded and her thoughts slowed even as her heart rate increased. The past ceased to exist and so did the future. There was only the slow pulse of awareness and the dizzying thrill of anticipation as she felt him brush against her intimately. His hands locked on her hips and his breath was warm against her mouth as he murmured her name, soothing, seducing. He entered her with a smooth thrust and she gasped at the feel of him, the sweet pressure, the power, the intoxicating combination of silk and heat. He drove deeper still and then held still for a moment, his breathing unsteady as he struggled for control. She closed her hands round his arms and felt the tension in his muscles.
“I want you.” She whispered the words against his ear, against the roughness of his jaw, against the heated curve of his mouth. “I want you.”
He lifted his head and she saw that his eyes had darkened. He moved slowly, his gaze locked with hers as he rocked into her with a slow heated rhythm. He built the tension with long, easy, expert strokes that sent pleasure rocketing through her. Suddenly it wasn’t enough. She needed more, more, but he refused to alter the rhythm. Each sensual glide was so maddeningly slow she wondered if he even knew what he was doing to her, but then she saw the wicked glint in his eye and the sexy slant of his mouth as he lowered his head to kiss her and realized he knew exactly what he was doing.
She scraped her nails over his shoulder, felt him smile against her mouth and then gasped as he thrust deep, the delicious friction almost too much to bear. The tension built and built, higher and higher until finally she came in a rush of pleasure that dragged a sob of relief from her throat. The ripples of her body took him with her and she felt him shudder as he held her, his mouth taking hers so there wasn’t a single part of them that wasn’t connected. Locked together intimately she felt every spasm, every vibration, every heated pulse.
Afterward neither of them spoke.
There was only the unsteady rasp of his breathing and the pounding of her heart.
She had no idea how much time passed but eventually he lowered her gently to the floor, his arms still locked round her. She stood for a moment, unsteady, her head resting against his shoulder. She felt the warmth of his hand on the back of her head, cradling her there, and it felt good. So good she didn’t want to move away, because once she stepped out of this cocoon she knew she’d have to face reality.
“Scott—”
“Hush—” he covered her lips with his fingers “—don’t say anything.”
She cupped his cheek with her hand, feeling the roughness of stubble scrape against her palm. His gaze held hers and she hoped he wasn’t going to ask her, What next? What does this mean? She wouldn’t be able to answer him. There were so many reasons why they shouldn’t have done this.
“We can forget this happened,” she whispered. “We can leave here and never mention it again.”
“What if I don’t want to forget it?” His mouth was so close to hers there was barely a breath of separation. “I’m not losing you again, Laurie. Not again.”
“Oh, Scott—”
He wasn’t supposed to say things like that. He was the practical one, and she was the dreamer. What did he think could happen? She couldn’t let anything happen because she knew that each new tear he put in her heart would reduce the chances of her ever healing.
He took her face in his hands. “This isn’t over.”
It had to be. It hadn’t even been five months since she’d lost Ed.
And this was Scott. Scott, who had walked away from her. Scott, who in all probability would walk away from her again.
What was she doing?
She knew they needed to talk, but instead of talking they were kissing again and his hands were under her shirt, his thumbs grazing the sensitive tips of her breasts. They were lost in each other, insulated from the outside world, and they might have stayed that way if it hadn’t been for the intrusive buzz of Lauren’s phone.
Scott tightened his grip on her. “Leave it.”
“It might be Mack.”
