More deep kisses. More firm, but gentle hands buffing her body. More of this heady, dizzy, free-falling sensation that made her cling even tighter to him for fear of losing her balance.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not with him. Apparently she didn’t have to trust the man to desire him. He was attractive and she hadn’t had sex in a long time, so her reaction to him was probably just deprived hormones at work. But he and Pops were wrong. She wasn’t hiding. She wasn’t afraid.
She wanted Gavin Jarrod, she admitted as their tongues dueled. And what was wrong with that? What was wrong with wanting to experience hot, sweaty mind-numbing passion one more time? It didn’t have to mean anything. In fact, she wouldn’t let it mean anything. She’d already had a man who’d loved as ardently as he’d lived, and like her grandfather, she’d never settle for second-best.
Gavin’s hands skimmed her waist, her br**sts, and her heart banged wildly. He lowered her coat’s zipper tooth by tooth. The rasp shattered the silence of the small room, then welcome cool air soothed her overheated skin. He parted her coat and spanned her rib cage, palms burning hot through her sweater as he stroked his thumbs back and forth beneath her br**sts with breath-stealing effectiveness. The urge to press herself into his palms surged through her. It had been so long she almost didn’t recognize the bite of lust gnawing her middle.
And then his hands slipped under the hem of her sweater and his skin found hers. She jumped. The chilly air contrasting with the heat of his touch set her core on fire. Breaking the kiss, she threw her head back and gasped for breath, for sanity, for control. Her head spun. Her knees wobbled. His lips scorched a path from her cheek to her temple then down the side of her neck. Desire thundered over her like a storm coming over the mountains, rumbling with a strength she couldn’t remember experiencing before. But she must have. With Russell.
Was she making a mistake? Playing with fire? Taking on more than she could handle?
The heady rush caused by Gavin’s warm breath on her skin combined with the slick heat of his tongue teasing the sensitive spot behind her ear and his teeth grazing the cord of her neck provided her answer. She had to taste the passion, had to sample the need of a hungry man. She’d missed that feeling so much. Too much. She’d allow Gavin into her life long enough to take the edge off. But that was it. Nothing more. No promises. No long-term. Just this. Today.
She shoved Gavin’s coat off his shoulders. He whipped hers down her arms. Breathing heavily, he cupped her face, traced her jaw as if he were trying to slow down. Then he pressed his lips together, and with a rueful grimace shook his head and yanked her close.
The impact of his ravenous kiss robbed her breath, her balance, her reason. He kissed her as if he couldn’t get enough of her and a similar sensation swelled inside her. She clung to him. The hard length of his erection burned against her hips. Cool air swept her midsection, then he eased his upper torso away only far enough to whisk her sweater over her head. She had a moment to feel uncomfortable and exposed in her plain white bra before he ripped off his own shirt, and then her doubts vanished and her appreciation focused on him.
His chest was all male—wide shoulders, brawny pectorals, dark swirls of hair, tiny, puckered n**ples, and hot, so, so hot to the touch. She dragged her fingertips down his sternum. Satisfaction rose in her when she left a crop of goose bumps in her wake. She pressed her cheek to his chest and inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with his masculine scent, then she licked his golden skin and tasted a slight tang of salt.
His breath hissed and his grip tightened on her waist as she licked across the tiny hard tip. A groan rumbled from his chest. “I like your mouth, your hands on me, Sabrina.”
Hot palms buffed her back, her waist and then he covered her br**sts. He captured her gasp with his mouth, swallowed the Mmm of pleasure she couldn’t contain. She wanted, needed skin on skin. Her bra was in the way. She reached for the hooks in the middle of her back, but he beat her to them and dispensed with the garment. He cradled her aching br**sts in his palms. His thumbs teased the tips, sending bolts of need straight to her center. Intense. Too intense.
She eased back to map the supple skin covering the ropy muscles of his shoulders, his thick biceps, his hard pectorals. She flicked her short nails over his beaded flesh then raked downward over his six-pack abs to his waistband.
He shuddered an inhalation, then swept her into his arms and carried her to the sofa where he laid her on top of the fur blankets before following her. His weight pinned her down and being trapped beneath him felt good. So good. She lightly raked his back and then his mouth found her breast. Hot. Wet. Slick. Pleasure bathed her as his tongue laved her, and she moaned. He sucked, nipped, rasped her with his chin stubble, and all she could do was struggle to control her growing urgency. Her legs shifted restlessly, trying to soothe the knot of nerves between them.
She ached to tear off the remainder of their clothing and fill the emptiness expanding in her belly. Her fingers tangled in his hair, holding him close. He worked his way down her midline until he reached the button of her jeans. He released it. The fabric gave way and the zipper parted letting in a kiss of cool air. He skimmed her pants and panties down her legs, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses in the fabric’s wake. Then her pants, boots and socks were gone.
She lay nak*d before him and she should have had second thoughts, but she didn’t, not with the way he devoured her with his eyes. She attributed the depth of her hunger to the length of time it had been since she’d allowed herself even a teensy sexual urge. Why else would this feel so right, so necessary? She reached for the fly of his jeans.
He covered her hands, pressing them to the ridge beneath his denim, groaned and then shook his head. “Not this time. I can’t handle it.”
She took comfort in knowing she wasn’t alone in her over-the-top response. He brushed her hands aside and quickly stripped. His body was long and lean, but corded with thick muscles. She wanted to stare, to map his contours with her fingertips, but she also wanted him on her, surrounding her, inside her. She lifted a hand to him, beckoning him. He rejoined her, pressing her into the soft blankets with his weight.
While his mouth consumed hers she palmed the muscles of his back, his buttocks, his strong thighs. He kissed and laved his way to her br**sts, sucking, licking, nipping until she squirmed beneath him, impatient for more. Then he blazed a trail down her middle. Her muscles clenched in anticipation, and then he was there—his hot breath a prelude to the scalding sweep of his tongue. He found exactly the right spot instantly. How did he do that? Pleasure quivered through her, making her whimper, causing her to bow off the sofa and toward the mouth working magic on her body.
Tension built, adding more and more pressure until she cracked like a dam and an orgasm erupted though her in wave after wave of breathtaking release. It wasn’t enough. She’d waited so long for this. She needed more. Digging her fingers into his arms, she tugged him upward. He resisted, forcing one more breath-robbing cli**x on her before he rose above her, spread her legs and positioned himself. He paused.
Confused and gasping for air, she looked into his lust-darkened eyes. His passion was too intense. She lowered her lids. “Please, Gavin. Now.”
“Open your eyes,” he rumbled almost inaudibly.
Reluctantly, she did as he ordered. Once their gazes locked he eased into her, inch by inch, filling her, stretching her.
“You’re so wet.”
Having a lover talk was a new experience, and surprisingly it increased her arousal. He felt good. So good. And then he withdrew. She pulled him back again and again, chasing another cli**x with each thrust and withdrawal, feeling the heaviness build low in her belly and waiting, waiting for the explosion. When it hit, it hit hard, racking her body with spasms. “That’s it, baby. Squeeze me.”
She bit his shoulder to muffle her cry, and then before the aftershocks faded he groaned as he found his own release.
Gavin rested atop her, the majority of his weight braced on his forearms as she struggled to catch her breath and to still the quaking of her legs. His long, hot thighs burned against hers and his chest pressed hers with each rapid breath.
Reality slowly nudged fantasy aside. How had she and he come together so naturally when she and Russell had worked long and hard to achieve such satisfaction? Guilt settled heavily on her at the traitorous thought.
It’s only because you and Russell were inexperienced kids when you first made love. You and Gavin are experienced adults.
As she mentally withdrew from him she became aware of the soft furs tickling her back, the unheated air cooling her skin, the hot, damp man still buried deep inside her and the stickiness joining them.
Stickiness?
They hadn’t used a condom. Shock raced over her, quickly chased by panic. What had she done? She hadn’t simply answered a biological call as planned.
She’d made a mistake of potentially disastrous proportions—one that could have lifelong repercussions. She’d risked a pregnancy—something she’d sworn she’d never, ever do again.
Satiation and satisfaction blended in Gavin’s blood like a top-shelf cocktail. His heart pumped faster and yet his limbs felt weighted. His brain raced, searching for the next step in his plan to seduce Sabrina Taylor into marriage. But for some crazy-ass reason he was having trouble thinking about anything except the warm, soft woman beneath him, the hot, wet grip of her body and the smell of sex hanging in the air.He ought to feel ashamed for enjoying the act as much as he had considering he was using her as a means to an end. But he didn’t because she’d enjoyed it as much as he had.
She stiffened beneath him, jarring him out of Shangri-la.
“That shouldn’t have happened.”
Not what a guy wanted to hear when he was still buried deep inside a woman. “With chemistry like ours it was inevitable.”
She squirmed as if trying to get free, and the slick slide of her body on his signaled his erection for an encore. “No. It wasn’t. I don’t do…this with men I barely know.”
“Good to know.” Marriage and more of this appealed more with each of her wiggles.
“Gavin, we didn’t use a condom.”
The statement rocked him, instantly dousing the smoldering embers of desire. He never neglected to practice safe sex. “My company requires physicals on a regular basis. I’m clean. You?”
Face flushing, she pushed against his chest, her fingers digging into his pectorals until he eased off her and sat beside her on the sofa. “Of course.”
“Good.” Without the warmth of her body pressed against his, the chill of the unheated tack room—and the woman beside him—penetrated his consciousness.
She sprang to her feet, frantically scooping up clothing and clutching the wad of fabric to her spectacular chest. Her br**sts might not be large, but they were perfectly formed. A handful. A mouthful. The pink tips lured him ba—
“You’re ignoring the big picture. I’m not on the pill.”
Arousal once more derailed, he processed the bad news. Their union was supposed to be temporary. A baby was a long-term commitment—definitely not in the works for a rolling stone like him who didn’t know how to be a good father. “The odds of you conceiving from one encounter are slim. We’ll take precautions next time.”