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“You shouldn’t say that. It just makes me want to make you come all the more.”
He stroked the tiny bundle of nerves, and she tried to prop herself on her elbows and shimmy away from him. He laughed, and she stilled. Two laughs in one afternoon?
“What? Do you really want me to stop?”
She shook her head.
The quirk of his lips was worth it. He brought his other hand up and rubbed along the outside of her clit, and she bowed up and off the blanket. She could feel him hardening inside her again.
“Shane.”
He held himself and her so still as he continued with the relentless stroking. Full of him and the pure, stripping pleasure, she cried out his name, a string of curses, then lost her ability to speak. He held on to her, wouldn’t let her crawl away from the intensity. No person should be able to feel this much. Not this soon.
She fisted her hair and sobbed; then she was in his arms. He hauled her off the blanket and banded his arms around her. She buried her face in his neck. From soft to scalded in so little time. She should back away, but she held on tighter.
She was so freaking tired of being alone.
She wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that. Her legs ached, and the skin along the back of her knees felt raw around his bunched jeans. She dropped her hands. He reached beside them and dropped his shirt over her head. The nubby texture buzzed against her sensitive skin.
There wasn’t any room for words. What could either of them say after that? She pushed her arms through his huge sleeves. The day was bright and warm, but it was still November, and there was a bite to the breeze. He took care of the condom with a napkin and zipped his jeans.
But instead of cleaning up, he stretched out on the blanket and drew her down with him. He spooned around her and tucked her butt into the cup of his thighs. She stared at the mountains as his arm came around her and he settled behind her.
“Shane?”
“Hmm.” His voice was soft and sleepy.
“Shouldn’t we be getting back on the road?”
He slid his fingers through her hair in a soothing gesture. “Soon. Rest now.”
“Don’t you have a schedule?”
“Kendall?”
Her name was a rumble in his chest. She grinned. “Yes?”
“Shut up.”
She smiled wide and cuddled in.
The next time she woke, she stretched and grunted. Her arm was dead asleep, and Shane was cupping her breast. She snorted and rolled him onto his back, flipping around in his arms. He didn’t wake up, simply hooked his arm around her neck and dragged her onto his chest.
Even in sleep he was dragging her around where he wanted her.
She poked him in the chest. The sun was still in the sky, but the first fingers of amber that painted the horizon signaled sunset wasn’t far off. She looked down at him. His face was softer in sleep. His rosary circled one muscled pec, nestled into the soft whorls of hair on his chest.
He really was incredibly beautiful. Pretty under all the hair.
She drew the rosary beads over his chest and played with the cross at the end. “Shane.”
He moaned a little but settled quickly, his chest rising and falling gently in sleep. She hated to wake him. She rather liked the softer version of him.
She raked her nails over the smooth skin of his side. He flinched, and his arm tightened around her neck. She did it again, and he jerked. She laughed out loud, and he rolled her, pinning her arms over her head. “Is someone ticklish?” she teased.
His eyes were sleepy and hooded. The softness hadn’t quite faded, and his returning smile made her laugh all the harder. “Are you?”
She shook her head, biting her lip to kill the smile. “Nope.”
