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She levered herself up, stared down into his handsome face. ‘Then why were you getting all sentimental about “our first time” a minute ago?’ She did air quotes.
His lips quirked, the sensual smile making her heart flip over in her chest. Damn it, why did he have to be so ludicrously sexy?
‘You mistake me, Gina.’ He bunched her hair at the back of her neck and gave it a tug, forcing her head back and making her breasts more accessible. He covered one with his palm. ‘That wasn’t sentiment.’ His gaze drifted to her breast as he toyed with the nipple. ‘That was purely an observation about our sexual compatibility.’
‘I see...’ The tension coiled in her abdomen as he rose up on his elbow, forcing her back into the pillows. She gasped as he captured the beaded nipple with his lips and drew it into his mouth. The hot flow of lust and endorphins charged into her sex, making her arch off the bed and the still tender spot between her thighs throb painfully. ‘Carter, stop,’ she hissed, her hands fisting on the bed sheets. ‘I really can’t do it again so soon...’
And how on earth could he?
‘Sure you can,’ he countered, before getting back to the business of proving her wrong.
SIX
Gina winced at the blast of light on her retinas, before awareness of the big body wrapped around hers yanked her the rest of the way out of dreamland. Slow, steady breathing stirred the hair on the back of her head, a heavy forearm lay across her midriff, and something indisputably long and solid nestled against her backside.
Good grief, I’m spooning with Carter Price—and he’s hard as a rock. Again!
The memory of the torrid hours they’d spent before dawn came tumbling back. The man had the stamina and fortitude of a prize stallion—and he’d learned a great deal, in the years since she’d popped his cherry. She dismissed the foolish punch of her pulse at the realisation that while she might have been Carter’s first, she certainly hadn’t been his last.
No wonder she felt limp and sated—she edged across the mattress, testing the tender spot between her thighs—and frankly rather sore.
The heavy forearm tightened as a large hand cupped her breast and gave it a friendly squeeze. ‘Morning, sugar.’
The husky murmur, heavy with sleep, had her shifting round to glance over her shoulder.
‘You’re awake?’ With his eyes closed, his wavy hair delightfully rumpled, what looked like a two-day shadow on his jaw and his mobile mouth sporting the hint of a smile, it was hard to tell.
One eyelid lifted, the cobalt-blue gleaming in the light from the bay. His lips twisted into the full megawatt smile. ‘Can’t you tell?’ His erection nudged her bottom.
She laughed, a little nervously. ‘Forget it, Rhett. After the night we had, I’m not going to be operational for at least a week.’
The warm palm strayed from her breast to curl over her hip and stroke. ‘You sure about that?’
She wasn’t, not in the slightest, if the heat surging through her was anything to go by, but she didn’t plan to negotiate. Because where Carter was concerned, her will power came a very poor second to her libido. And unfortunately he knew it, from the wicked grin as the stroking hand migrated to her backside.
Swiping his hand away, she flung the quilt back and bolted off the bed. ‘I have to get going.’ She checked the clock on his bedside table. ‘I’m meeting the Awesomes at a bridal boutique in Brooklyn at eleven for a bridesmaid’s fitting and I can’t be late.’
‘Now who’s the spoilsport?’ He propped himself on the pillows.
She scooped her now hopelessly wrinkled dress off the floor and held it over her nakedness, a little too aware of his patient watchful gaze as she hunted up the rest of her clothing.
‘Do you mind if I use your shower?’ she asked, ignoring the sizzle in her breasts as he tucked a folded arm behind his head, apparently settling in to enjoy the show.
‘Sure. You want company?’
‘Better not,’ she said quickly as the sizzle went into overdrive and she grabbed her bra from its resting place hooked onto the corner of the room’s huge plasma TV. ‘I can’t imagine sharing a shower with you will be particularly time efficient.’ She spotted the remains of her Indian lace knickers and picked them off the satellite console. Heat flushed through her at the memory of Carter ripping them off her the night before.
‘Damn it.’
How on earth was she going to explain a complete absence of underwear to her pals in the changing room? It was already nine-fifty. She didn’t have time to get all the way back to her apartment in Red Hook. Maybe she could stop off at a department store on the way to the Manhattan Bridge Overpass District, where Amber’s boutique was situated? Or have a quiet word with Reese’s friend when she arrived? Did bridal boutiques sell emergency underwear?
‘Will my sister be there?’
She stared at Carter, momentarily confused by the question until he added, ‘Could you get her to give me a call? We need to set up a meet while I’m in town.’
And then the stupidity of what she’d done hit her right between the eyes—like a cold hard slap, knocking the breath out of her lungs and making the back of her neck feel as if someone had yanked out all the small hairs.
The remains of her knickers dropped from her numbed fingers.
