Jaci Burton (27 page)

“You’ve got that look in your eyes.”

She met Cole’s gaze. “What look?”

“The one that says in less than five minutes you’re going to grab your purse and run out my front door.”

She lifted her chin. “I have no such look.”

“Actually, you do. It usually appears after we’ve had sex.”

“It does not.”

He continued to stare at her, giving her his stoic, unflinching look.

“You think I run away from you.”

“I know you run away from me. You’ve done it more than once. More than twice.”

He was right. There was no point in denying it when they both knew it was true. She inhaled and let out an audible sigh. “I can’t help it. You scare me.”

“Why?”

She didn’t want to have this intimate, personal conversation with him. She wasn’t ready to talk to him about her feelings. She wasn’t the type of person to have open, intimate conversations with
anyone about how she felt. Other than Liz, of course. But that was different. Liz knew her story and she understood.

“Peaches. Talk to me.”

“You’re like a mind reader sometimes. There’s one thing that scares me.”

He let out a short laugh. “What are you talking about?”

“I was just thinking that I’ve never told a man how I felt, and then you popped up and asked me to talk to you. It’s…weird.”

“Come here, Savannah.”

She did, and he drew her onto his lap. Her nerves danced for a myriad of reasons. Nervousness was one, and the other was excitement, which she always felt being this close to him. How was she supposed to keep a clear head when his body touched hers?

“It’s okay to tell me how you feel. You can trust me.”

She looked down at him, at his eyes that always compelled her. She’d always thought they were so mysterious, but now they were so clear. “I don’t trust many people.”

“Neither do I. But you’re the one who told me I need to broaden my circle of friends.”

“And now who’s the pot calling the kettle black?”

“I’m not saying that to throw your words back at you. You were right. I had close friends in school. But not since then. I shut myself off. Getting cut from Arizona—my first team—that hurt. I had started to make friends there. After that, I didn’t want to, afraid the same thing would happen again. And then it did happen again. After that, I became my own worst enemy. I didn’t trust a team to keep me. And maybe I didn’t trust myself to do the right things to stay there, and I didn’t do the right things. It was a self-fulfilling prophecy, you know.”

“I can see how that could happen,” she said. “You got hurt, and you lashed out so no one could hurt you.”

“Something like that. So I didn’t let myself get close to anyone
on any of the teams I played for. If you don’t let yourself get close to anyone, when you get dumped, it doesn’t hurt.”

It was like listening to a version of herself. Only Cole was a lot more honest in how he felt, something she’d never allowed herself to be. He was saying all the things she felt inside but had never given voice to.

“How does it feel?” she asked.

“How does what feel?”

“To be that open and honest with someone.”

He shrugged. “I’ve never done it before. I’ve never said those things to anyone but you.”

Her heart squeezed. “Why me?”

“I guess I just wanted to say it—to someone. Or maybe you needed to hear it. I don’t know.”

She swept her hand along his jaw, then leaned in to brush her lips across his. He didn’t do anything, didn’t rise up, didn’t even touch her, just let her control the kiss, no doubt afraid she’d pull back or hesitate. Given her propensity for running like hell or pulling away, she couldn’t blame him for his hesitation.

But he’d been so kind to her, and he’d opened up to her in a way no man had ever done. She knew how difficult it was for a man to admit his insecurities. That he had with her touched her. It showed her he trusted her, and that meant so much.

She still wasn’t ready to tell him all her secrets, but she could trust him with some part of her. She half turned, deepening the kiss, sliding her hand through the lush thickness of his hair. Her breast pressed against his chest, her thigh lay against his stomach, and her heart pounded as she licked against his tongue.

He kissed her back with a fervor that never failed to take her to dizzying heights, but he still hadn’t put his hands on her. Was he still unsure about her? She broke the kiss, looked into the smoky depths of his eyes, saw the desire and the hesitancy there.

“Touch me,” she said, taking his hand and laying it on her hip.

The sharp intake of his breath was exactly what she needed to hear. When he clenched his fingers around her hip, she dampened with arousal.

“Turn around. Straddle me.” He held her hands as she momentarily slid off his lap, then climbed onto his lap, facing him. There was ample room on the oversized cushioned chair to fit her knees on either side of his hips. And since he’d left the lights off outside and in the kitchen, they were shrouded in darkness, affording them plenty of privacy.

He slid his hands up her thighs, skimming his fingertips under her dress, causing goosebumps on her flesh. She laid her hands on his shoulders and lifted.

Mercy, how she craved his touch. Outside like this it felt primitive, catering to this primal hunger she always seemed to feel for Cole—the one she could never seem to satisfy.

He cupped her neck and pulled her toward him for a kiss, though letting her take the lead. She was fine with that, needed the dominance he usually provided. Their lips met in a firestorm of passion that released a whimper from her throat. She inched closer to him, sliding her sex against his jeans. Sensation spread from her pussy and she tightened, clutching on to his shirt.

He pulled his lips from hers and drew the straps of her dress down, then the cups of her bra, drawing her breasts together to tease her nipples with his fingers. She rocked her pussy against him, so caught up in the drugging sensations she moaned out loud. She knew they were outside, that she should be quiet, but she needed an orgasm—she needed him inside her.

The hard ridge of his erection was evident against his jeans. She reached down to rub her hand over it, closing her eyes to revel in his hiss of frustration. Obviously, she wasn’t the only one who needed this.

He jerked the button of his jeans open, then drew the zipper down. Savannah eased back only long enough for Cole to drop his jeans and put on the condom he’d retrieved from his pocket. She pulled her panties aside and slid down on his rigid cock, his hands on her hips to help guide her.

She trembled at the feel of him filling her, her pussy quivering and clenching around his thick heat. The painful pleasure made her shiver, and when he was buried deep inside her, she threw her head back and lifted partway, dragging her pussy over his shaft.

“You feel good on me,” he whispered, his voice as dark as the night surrounding them.

She dropped her gaze to his and dug her nails into his shoulders. “You feel good inside me.”

He thrust, burying himself to the hilt. In return, she pulsed, her pussy tightening around his shaft.

“Just like that,” she whispered, moving against him in rhythm.

In answer to their lovemaking, the night went quiet. All she could hear were the sounds of their panting breaths as they moved in unison, both of them seeking climax.

She met his gaze, perfectly visible to her in the slant of moonlight afforded to her. It was enough, capturing her, holding her while she rode him.

He grabbed her hips and lifted her, then drove her onto his cock, rocking her against him. She laid her palms on his chest and slid back and forth over him, grinding her pussy against his shaft.

Buried deep like this, she felt every muscle, every twitch, their connection so deep it was shattering to her senses, to her emotions.

“Kiss me,” he whispered. She leaned forward and he grabbed her ass as she met his lips. He squeezed the globes while their tongues tangled.

She wasn’t going to last much longer. Cole devastated her emotionally as well as physically, asking her without words to give him everything. And she couldn’t deny him.

She lifted, needing the few inches of distance to catch her breath. But when he reached down and strummed his fingers over her clit, applying the perfect amount of pressure, she knew she was lost. And he knew it, too, giving her that wicked smile that never failed to devastate her.

She tightened, her back bowed as he found the spot she needed. She gripped his wrists and held on while she shattered, her pussy clenching around his cock as she burst in orgasm, undulating against him as wave after wave of the sweetest sensations poured through her.

He lifted into her, groaning as he came, pulling her flat on top of him so he could shove his cock deep.

She felt the tremors in his body as he held her, both of them shuddering through the aftereffects.

He was still gripping tightly to her hips, his fingers digging in, long after the pulsing sensations had fled.

“Are you holding on to me because you think I’m going to disappear?”

He let go and she sat up, traced the smile that curved his lips.

“Are you?”

“Not at the moment.”

She slid off his lap and they went inside to clean up. He didn’t let her go far, and instead, led her to his bed and dragged her close to him. She’d righted her clothes in the bathroom, so they were both still dressed, on top of the comforter, their shoes off, their feet tangled together.

Thunder rumbled outside and a flash of lightning pulled her attention to the door. A storm was rolling in.

“If you’re going to bolt, you should do it before that thunderstorm hits.”

She laid her head on his shoulder. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“I’d prefer you stay the night. I just know you like to leave.”

She didn’t like to leave. She had to leave, at least at a certain point. There was a difference.

It wasn’t something she liked to acknowlede about herself. Indecision plagued her. Staying with him meant more sex, and that was always a good thing. But staying also meant getting close to him. Sleeping with him. Waking up next to him. Opening the door to her heart and her emotions a fraction more.

That definitely scared her.

“I don’t like to leave, Cole.”

“But you have to. I know.”

She burrowed against him and watched lightning arc across the sky. The thunder picked up in intensity.

“I think I’ll ride the storm out here tonight, if you don’t mind.”

“If you stay, I want to fix you breakfast in the morning. No waking up realizing you’ve made some huge mistake and needing to run out of here like some rabid dog is after you.”

He must feel awful every time she did that. She knew how she’d feel if someone did that to her. She laid her hand on his chest. “Breakfast sounds good. I like my eggs scrambled.”

He laughed, the rumble as deep as the heavy thunder. “I’ll do my best to please you.”

She brought her lips to his. “You always do a good job of that.”

COLE TOOK A DEEP BREATH, INHALING SAVANNAH’S
scent. It meant something to have her here in his bed. He tried not to think about what it meant, because he was tied up and mixed up where she was concerned. It was enough that she was here and had decided to stay tonight.

Her body was soft and pliant as he shifted to his side, drawing her close so that her breasts touched his chest, her thighs resting against his, and their legs mixing it up together.

He’d enjoyed having her outside, watching her breasts rise
and fall in the moonlight as she rode him to one hell of a gut-wrenching orgasm. He’d come so hard he was pretty sure he’d felt it in his hair.

Now, as he brushed his lips over hers, he wanted to take it slow and easy, to love her gently. But the storm outside was throwing slashes of lightning and rocketing deep growls of thunder, and as their kisses deepened, he felt the weather’s raw power mixing with his need for Savannah, a hunger for her that never seemed to go away, no matter how many times they were together.

He climbed off the bed and drew his shirt off, undid the button of his jeans and let them fall to the ground. With a sexy grin, Savannah got to her knees and slid the straps of her dress down, letting it fall to her waist. She undid the clasp on her bra and pulled it off, tossing it onto his dresser. She stood on his bed and shimmied out of her dress, then her panties, then fell to the mattress, beautifully naked.

He couldn’t get out of his pants and underwear fast enough.

Thunder crashed outside, a strike of lightning that knocked out the power, sending the room into darkness.

He crawled onto the bed, jerking the covers back.

“Are you scared?” he asked as he slid his palm over the soft skin of her belly.

“No. I love storms.” She turned on her side, her hand gliding over his shoulder and down his arm, then sliding over to find his hip—and lower. She wrapped her fingers around him.

His cock jerked. He was hard and aching to sink into the wet heat of her pussy. But when she shifted, sliding down his body to put her mouth around him, he decided he could wait.

Her lips surrounded him and he was content to watch her as flashes of lightning bathed her face in a silver glow. Her mouth was magic, her tongue wet and hot as hell as she wound it around the sensitive head, then engulfed him, using just the right amount of pressure when she took him deep.

His balls tightened, threatening to erupt. He held back, enjoying the silkiness of her hair teasing his thighs as she worshiped his cock, dragging her tongue along the underside, then using both her mouth and hands to suck and stroke him.

Enough, or he was going to blow his load down her sweet throat. He pulled her up, laid her on her back, and kissed her, driving his tongue inside her mouth as the storm battered against the door. She whimpered, wrapping her legs around him to imprison him against her.

He reached for a condom. Then he was back, sliding inside her with one deep thrust. She let out a soft cry as thunder hit, the storm raging outside in the same way it raged within him. When Savannah raked her nails down his back and bit at his bottom lip, he knew she felt the same force that boiled inside him. He lifted and powered inside her again, this time dropping down to roll against her, giving her the friction she needed.