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The Survivor Page 8
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Bess, too. “This certainly beats the subpar chains I normally frequent when I’m on the road,” she told him.
He stilled as though that thought had never occurred to him. “How often are you on the road?”
“At least a couple of weeks out of the month,” Bess said.
“Alone?”
She plopped down on the edge of the bed and toed her shoes off. She grinned. “Of course.” She shot him a look. “I can’t very well take Elsie with me.” She grinned. “In addition to being miserable, I’d have no one to look after the store.”
He grimaced, but didn’t say anything, which was just as well. But she knew what he was thinking because her grandfather had thought the same thing—it wasn’t safe. To which her standard reply was always “Hogwash.” She had a cell phone, she had her GPS so she was never lost and she had her van serviced once a month to make sure that everything was in good order.
She’d had the occasional flat—she invariably picked up a nail at some point or another, particularly if she got too close to an old barn—but she knew how to change a tire. And, in the event she ever got into any trouble she couldn’t handle, she kept her pistol beneath the front seat.
“Have you ever thought about getting a dog?” Lex asked. “Good company and a little protection. I’m of the opinion that every person should have a pet of some sort.”
She had, actually, but didn’t know when she’d have time to train an animal. After a moment, she said as much. “I’d love to have a dog,” she told him. She smiled warmly at Honey. “Especially after watching you with her. She’s very protective of you, constantly putting herself in front of you.”
“I know,” he said, rubbing the dog’s head. “She’s a good girl, aren’t you, Honey?” he murmured, bending down closer to the canine, who lapped up his affection.
She wouldn’t mind lapping up his affection, too, Bess thought, desire pinging her middle once more. I’m going to let you tear off all my clothes and do bad things with me, he’d said, his voice low and husky with the promise of sin.
He looked up at her and his blue eyes darkened with desire. “How do you feel about postponing dinner?”
So long as she could make a meal of him first, she didn’t give a damn. “I’m in favor of it,” she said, releasing a stuttering breath as her gaze fastened on his mouth once more, silently communicating what she really wanted.
Lex grinned and stood, then came forward and tumbled her back onto the bed. He was big and hard and wonderful and she relished the feel of him, the weight of him against her. His hands found her face, his thumbs sliding along the underside of her jaw, then he angled his lips over hers and kissed her. Sweet joy bolted through her and she turned, pressing herself more firmly against him.
Good heavens, this was crazy. This need, this desire. It utterly consumed her, made her want to simultaneously laugh and weep. She rolled him onto his back and straddled him, then found the hem of his sweater and tugged. The first feel of his bare skin beneath her hands made her moan with pleasure—so warm, so sleek—and she carefully worked the fabric up and out of the way, slowly revealing the beautiful landscape of his chest. Muscled abs, flat male nipples set on a slant against magnificent pecs, soft whorls of dark brown hair.
Mercy.
Though she knew he wouldn’t appreciate the adjective, beautiful was the first word that leaped to mind. In a purely masculine way, of course.
He leaned up so that she could tug the sweater completely out of the way and she let her gaze drift over his exposed skin, eating him up with her eyes. Her heart gave a hard squeeze when she spied the mangled scars on his shoulder, the puckered, shiny skin, and she bent forward and kissed them, lingering there while she slid her hands back down his belly and found the snap at his jeans.
He gasped and she wasn’t sure if it was because she’d kissed his scars or because she’d reached for his zipper, but something told her it was the former. Was he ashamed? she wondered. Embarrassed by the evidence of his wound? If so, then she desperately wanted to correct his thinking. His scars were a badge of honor, proof that he’d fought for their country and survived. It humbled her in a way she hadn’t anticipated, made him even more dear, more…everything.
Seemingly not content to be the only one without a shirt on, Lex carefully tugged hers out of the way, as well. She leaned back and let him look at her, loving the way his eyes went all heavy-lidded and sleepy looking. It made her feel beautiful. Wanted. He reached up and fingered the lace on her bra. “Pretty.”
“Thank you,” she said.
He popped the front closure and her breasts almost sprang free, the fabric catching on her nipples. He bent forward and nudged the lacy cup aside with his nose, then nuzzled her breast, his hot mouth—oh, that mouth, she thought as a delicious shiver moved through her—fastening around the pouting nipple.
She gasped and framed his face with her hands, felt the hot length of him press up against her, but it wasn’t enough because they weren’t naked and he wasn’t inside her. And suddenly, that’s all she needed, all she wanted. Her heart raced in her chest and frantic blood pounded in her ears. Her body was both strung out and languid and she wanted him, desperately needed him more than she’d ever needed anything in her life.
Though she’d never felt more alive, conversely she was certain she was going to die if he didn’t take her, if he didn’t get inside her.
She squirmed against him once more and felt him buck beneath her. The next instant he’d rolled her onto her back, was working his way down her belly, that warm mouth making a sensational trek over her ribs, around her navel. He unbuttoned her jeans and she heard the zipper whine as he lowered it, then he slid his big hands over her hips and swiftly removed them, panties and all.
Bare, but feeling far from exposed, Bess leaned back against the bed and felt his hot gaze travel over her. She liked the way it made her feel—wicked and wanton and depraved. He pulled his wallet from his jeans, then determinedly snagged a couple of condoms and tossed them on the bed. Five seconds later he’d shucked his pants and donned the protection and was nudging her folds, poised at her entrance.
He bent forward and kissed her again, his eyes dark, his mouth wonderful against hers and she arched up, slickening him with her own juices.
He groaned and pushed forward.
Lights sparkled as her vision went black and she inhaled sharply as he filled her up. He took every bit of room inside her, stretching her until she could feel every inch of his hardened flesh.
Every vein, every ridge, every ripple, every bump.
She could feel him pulsing inside of her, his very heartbeat in her core, and something about that simply did it for her, literally lit her up inside, and she tightened around him and rocked her hips.
He smiled above her, that unbelievably carnal mouth curling with masculine satisfaction, and she slid her hands up over his chest, up his neck and into his hair, where she pulled him down to kiss him again. His tongue plunged in and out of her mouth and his hips mimicked the action, in and out of her body. She met him thrust for thrust, anchored her legs around his waist and rocked against him.
Her heavy breasts bounced on her chest as he pushed into her, her aching nipples abraded by his masculine hair, the combined sensation making the tingling in her womb intensify. He threaded his fingers through hers and anchored their hands over her head, stretching her out, then took a breast into his hot mouth once more, suckling her deeply.
Her eyes literally rolled back in her head.
He shifted then, angling higher, where every long, delicious stroke of his body into hers nailed that sensitive place at the top of her sex, making it swell, hum, tingle and burn.
Oh, heaven help her. She was— Almost— Ohhhhh, damn.
One moment she was lost in the perfection of their joined bodies, the way his hips fit almost providentially in the cradle of her thighs, and the next she was flying apart, splintering into a million pieces.
Her breath lodged in her throat, he
r mouth opened in a soundless gasp and then she moaned, a long keening cry that felt like it had been ripped from her very soul. She couldn’t catch her breath, couldn’t escape him, and the pleasure intensified with every push of his magnificent body into hers. Her body went rigid as she rode out the wave of climax, relishing every ebb and flow of the singular sensation, then she went limp, sated and replete.
Elsie had been right, Bess thought dimly. She was definitely in danger…but it was her heart that was at risk.
8
DO BAD THINGS WITH YOU, indeed, Lex thought as he pushed deeper and deeper into Bess’s sweet, extraordinarily responsive body. Her pink-tipped breasts bounced on her chest, absorbing the force of his thrusts, and her hips, soft and womanly and flared just so, rocked beneath his, taking him in, a perpetual invitation into her body.
If he’d ever felt anything as perfect as Bess—as the two of them together—then he couldn’t recall it. Every cell in his body responded to her on a primal, visceral level, and though he’d never felt this way about a woman before, he was consumed with the idea of branding her forever, of making her his. Had he been a caveman he would have clubbed her over the head, then dragged her by the hair back to his cave, where he would have kept her forever and defended her at all costs.
He could taste her on his tongue, smell her in his nostrils—sweet and musky and laden with the scent of their sex. He was breathing her in, even as he moved in and out of her, her greedy muscles clamping around him, squeezing him, loving him with her body.
Her hair, long dark red curls, fanned out beneath her head, and her lips were raspberry-pink and swollen from his kisses. Even now, though he knew he’d satisfied her, she was looking at him as though she were starved for him, as though the rest of the world could crumble down around them, but so long as he was there with her, she’d be fine, she’d be satisfied.
She was a sensual delight, a feast for his senses, and nothing—nothing—was more attractive than being wanted, being desired. With every touch of her hands against him, every desperate clutch and release against his dick, every sleepy-eyed look, every sigh and moan, he knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that she wanted him. That she needed him with the same sort of mindless intensity he needed her.
He bent forward and kissed her again, licked a path along her arched throat and dipped his tongue into the hollow of her collarbone, before moving slowly down to lave her nipple, feeling the hardened peak against his tongue. She clamped around him again and the pressure triggered a response in the back of his balls. He angled higher, pushed deeper and upped the tempo.
He felt the first flash of climax kindle in his loins and, seemingly sensing that he was close to release, Bess bent forward and flicked her tongue against his nipple, tasting him as he’d just tasted her. She clamped her small hands on the twin globes of his ass and squeezed, urging him on.
He pounded into her, harder and harder and harder still. The bed rocked beneath them, a roaring built in his ears and the blood rushed from his head to the one farther south. Impossibly, he hardened even more, and then the bottom suddenly dropped out of his stomach—as though he’d just taken an unexpected leap off a cliff—and he came.
Hard.
Sound receded, sensation reigned and her greedy body tightened rhythmically around him, coaxing the orgasm out of him one determined squeeze at a time. He dug his toes into the mattress and lodged himself as deeply into her as he could go, then stayed there until the last of the contractions eddied through him.
He released a shaky breath, then rolled to the side. He made quick work of disposing of the condom, then hauled her up against him and wrapped a hand possessively over her breast. She snuggled deeply into his embrace and a contented sigh rolled between her lips.
“I’m hungry now,” she announced, to his immense surprise.
He chuckled and twisted a lock of her hair around his finger. “Now?”
She stretched and flexed her toes. “Positively ravenous. Aren’t you?”
As if on cue, his stomach rumbled and he laughed. “I guess I am. I hadn’t noticed.”
“That’s because you’ve been busy doing bad things with me,” she said, tracing circles on his chest. It felt nice. Natural, even, lying there with her.
He chuckled. “And enjoying every minute of it.” He paused. “I hope you were satisfied.”
She laughed, seemingly outraged. “Fishing for compliments? Seriously, I know you saw my eyes roll back in my head.” She chuckled. “If that’s what you mean by satisfied, then yes, Lex, you satisfied the living hell out of me.” She took a deep breath and released it. “Honestly, I’m just glad we got it over with.”
He blinked. “What?”
“Well, now we’ll be able to concentrate on other things,” she explained with some sort of logic he was having trouble understanding. “I’ve been distracted all day.”
As nice as it was to hear that he’d been distracting her all day with his potent sex appeal, he wasn’t so sure he liked the way she’d put it. “Got it over with?” That almost sounded like they weren’t going to do it again, in which case he would beg to differ.
And he would beg. Really.
Because once wasn’t going to be enough. In truth, he could take her again right now, could feel the tension seeping back into his penis, felt it drift toward her like a damned divining rod.
“You know what I mean. I’ve been a bit preoccupied with your mouth. Would you hand me the menu? If we don’t call room service soon we’re going to miss the boat.”
Baffled, but flattered, he handed her the folder and she sat up and started blithely flipping pages. She was completely at ease with her nudity, didn’t pull the edge of the comforter over her body. And she wouldn’t, would she? This was a woman who bathed on her back porch because she had a privacy fence. He was so in over his head, Lex thought. And perversely, didn’t seem to care.
“My mouth?”
“Oh, man,” she said, a frown emerging between her finely arched brows. “I hate it when I get this hungry. Everything looks good, you know? I can’t decide if I want a cheeseburger or the chicken and sugared pecan salad. I’ve been cold today, so something warm would be good, but…”
“My mouth?” he repeated.
“Yes,” she confirmed absently, still reviewing her choices. “It’s sexy. The sexiest thing I’ve ever seen really. I’ve been thinking about what it would be like to kiss you and how much I’d like to have your mouth on certain parts of my body—my breasts, specifically—and how it would feel against my skin. It’s simply—” she gave a delicate shudder “—exquisite.”
His felt his expression blank for a second as her words materialized in his mind. His mouth against her skin, tasting her breasts…
“What do you want?” she asked, looking up and over at him.
Her. Again. Right now.
She caught his expression and went still, then tossed the menu aside. He was on her in a heartbeat again. Skin to skin, flesh to flesh, his mouth—the one she’d imagined on her breasts—taking a nipple deep into his mouth. She found the other condom he’d gotten from his wallet, tore into the package, then carefully slid it over the engorged head of his penis and rolled it into place.
A moment later she was straddling him, her weeping folds sliding along the thick ridge of his dick, her ripe breasts ready for his lips. Her soft belly, the generous flare of her hips, a thatch of dark red curls at the junction of her thighs. He looked down and saw where they met, saw the tip of his penis peeking out of her sex and almost came again. She leaned up, arching her hips, then tipped forward until she’d successfully guided him to her entrance.
With a slow moan, her eyes fluttering shut and her breath leaking out of her lungs in a long, blissful sigh, she slowly impaled herself on him.
Her hair was long and tangled from their love-making and it draped over her shoulders and curled around her breasts, reaching nearly to her waist. She was a sexual vision, a siren, and watching her take him in, wat
ching her enjoy feeling him inside of her, was the single most erotic thing he’d ever witnessed in his entire misbegotten life.
She rested her hands on his chest and worked herself up and down, a gentle, slow deliberate rise and fall. Her breath caught, a low hum of pleasure slipped past her lips, and her eyes, normally a bright vivid green, went dark and verdant. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip and she leaned back, taking him deeper, then she reached around behind her and massaged his balls while she rode him. When she found the sweet spot between the root and sack, he thought he was going to die, to literally expire on the spot.
But he couldn’t yet, Lex told himself. He couldn’t let her subject him to this sweet torture without repaying it in kind. He bent forward and pulled her nipple into his mouth, suckling hard, then slid his fingers between their joined bodies, found the hard kernel nestled at the top of her sex and stroked it.
She inhaled sharply and rode him harder.
He knuckled her and she went wild, bucking on top of him, stroking the back of his balls, begging him to come with her talented fingers and the sweet friction of her channel.
He left off one nipple and found the other, thrusting upward beneath her, working her clit until a low keening wail ripped from her throat. She leaned forward and rode him with every bit of strength she possessed, harder and harder, her delicious flesh slapping against his as he took everything she had to give. He felt her tighten around him, a prelude to her release, and knuckled harder.
She came for him.
Her body fisted around him over and over, squeezing, contracting, begging him to join her, to let go…
A low groan tore from his throat and she bent forward and caught it, kissing him as he erupted inside of her, spilling his seed into the condom.
Breathing hard, he kissed her again, then rested his forehead against hers. “Let me guess. You’re glad we got that over with?”
She smiled against his mouth and he felt her lashes tickle his face. “Immensely.”
“THIS IS THE BEST HAMBURGER I’ve ever eaten in my life,” Bess moaned hours later.