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“Sloane.” He propped himself on his forearms, tracing his eyes over her in the moonlight just in time to watch as she freed him from his last remaining article of clothing. Nestling on her side right by his hips, she wrapped her fingers around his cock, and he released a tight exhale. “You’re a little overdressed, don’t you think?”
But her grin became wicked, just a flash of white teeth. She peered up between her lashes, meeting his eyes for the briefest of seconds before treating him to a slow, hard pump of her fist.
“Not for what I have in mind.”
And then her mouth was on him, and he couldn’t think, let alone speak to reply.
Sloane swept her tongue down the length of his cock in one long line, and it was all Gavin had not to thrust roughly into her mouth. She stroked him again, first with her tongue, then with her hand, letting one follow the other until they blended together. Just when he was sure he couldn’t handle any more sensation, she took his cock deeply into the heat of her mouth, and a hoarse moan broke from his chest. Pleasure and need combined in his belly, both threatening, but he locked it down, determined not to lose control and come until he’d madehercome. Maybe twice.
“Sloane.” He ground out her name, but even then it came out like a prayer. “Ah,fuck,you have to stop.”
She stilled, and the reprieve allowed him just a few seconds of clear thought.
She looked up at him. “Go ahead,” she murmured, her grin both wicked and sweet. “Lose control.”
The irony hit him full-on, and he sat up, pulling her close until their eyes were inches apart. “I haven’t had any control since the minute I walked through the door tonight, Sloane. I want you.Allof you.” He kissed his way from her jaw to her neck, finding that honey-sweet spot below the shell of her ear that made her moan softly when he tasted it.
All the blow jobs in the world couldn’t shred Gavin’s composure like the sounds this woman made under his hands, his mouth, his cock. There was only one thing he wanted, pure and simple.
“Just you.”
With a few quick motions, the rest of Sloane’s clothes joined his in the dark shadows of the room. He quickly grabbed a condom from his bedside table and settled back on the bed beside her, but she repeated her earlier move by pushing him flat on his back. Parting her thighs, she rested her pussy over the lower threshold of his belly, just out of reach of his rock-hard cock.
Sloane glided over his hips with friction so utterly hot, he nearly saw stars, and she leaned in close to whisper in his ear.
“If fucking me is what’s going to send you over the edge,” she said, her breath as ragged as his felt, “then I want you to watch every second of it.”
She seated herself in his lap in one smooth stroke, and Gavin’s breath jammed in his lungs. Her pussy gripped him, hot and tight and wet. She lifted up, less than an inch, then lowered herself back, repeating the movement over and over but always returning to the spot that kept them fully joined. He grasped her hips—fuck, she was perfect—but let her dictate the rhythm. Encouraging her forward with the bend of his knees, he slid his hands to her ass until she filled his palms, her movements gaining speed until both of them were panting. Sloane’s expression broke open further with each thrust, her lip catching between her teeth and her eyes squeezing shut. Her inner muscles squeezed, her fingers tightening on his shoulders, and fuck, he couldn’t hold back. Gavin pushed up to meet her, locking her hips into place with both hands, razoring into an orgasm so hard, it blurred the line between pleasure and pain.
“Gavin. Oh, my God,” Sloane gasped, and Gavin held her tightly as she began to tremble, then fall apart. After a moment of stillness, she unwound her body from his. But rather than moving away or turning to get dressed, she simply settled against him, matching his slowing, awe-filled breaths with her own.
And as he held her and listened to the rise and fall of her body lulling her to sleep, Gavin knew he could just as soon live without her as he could move the moon.
25
Sloane tugged at the waistband of the plaid pajama pants she’d borrowed from Gavin, re-tying the drawstring below her belly button in an effort to keep them settled over her hips. She knotted her legs beneath her as she readjusted her position at the kitchen table for conservatively the sixtieth time in ten minutes. Her stare was certainly as blank as the screen in front of her, and she didn’t even try to stop the sigh in her chest from rolling past her lips.
Of all the things she’d even written, this e-mail to Belinda was proving by far the most difficult. She’d rather take on ten Greece books than pen the message that would probably tank her hard-earned career. Oh, God, how had she not thought of this last night when she’d recklessly said she’d stay?
The answer was easy enough. She might’ve said it recklessly, but she’d meant it right down to her marrow. Sloane had said she wouldn’t leave Pine Mountain, and it was because she was head over heels in love with Gavin Carmichael.
That falling unexpectedly in love would end up being the one thing that kept her from writing a romance novel was so ironic, she had no choice but to laugh, even though the sound emerged as flat as an old party balloon. It wasn’t the decision to stay that was difficult—on the contrary,thathad felt as right and natural as taking a deep breath upon waking to a new day.
It was the fallout that threatened to swallow her whole.
Eyeing the hallway down which Bree still lay blissfully asleep, Sloane scooped her cell phone into her hand and tiptoed onto the porch.
“Hey, it’s me,” she whispered after dialing, wishing in hindsight she’d grabbed a sweatshirt to brace herself against the Saturday-morning cold. She paced over the sun-bleached slate of the porch floor. “Do you have a minute?”
Carly’s laugh held all the warmth Sloane’s had lacked only a few minutes ago. “I have exactly ten, and then I have to leave for the restaurant. What’s up?”
Sloane closed her eyes, and her words barged out without apology or grace. “I’m in love with Gavin.”
Silence buzzed softly over the line for a second, then two before Carly replied, “Well. I’ve got to give you credit,cucciola. When you go swimming, you sure as hell jump in with both feet. Does he know?”
“You mean have I said it?”
“Yeah.”
