Rev It Up (25 page)

Oh wow. She’d forgotten how toe-curlingly good that could feel.

The way he kissed her, nibbling on her neck before softly biting the tender skin there, making her arch beneath him. The way they fit together, breast to chest, hip to hip. The way his eyes burned when he looked at her.

Stop
this!
, her mind screamed, but she refused to listen. She wanted more. Just a little bit more heat, a little bit more pleasure. And then she’d stop…

Shoving her hands under the tail of his silly Hawaiian shirt, she was rewarded with the feel of smooth, hot skin rippling over wonderful muscle. She couldn’t see it, but she had a very clear memory of the tattoo covering his back. It was a bold, colorful reproduction of the SEAL Budweiser, the pin all Navy SEALs attached with pride to their uniforms—on those rare occasions they actually
wore
uniforms—an eagle perched atop an anchor and trident. She remembered thinking the tattoo was tough-looking and fierce, like the man who wore it.

Like the man she’d secretly dreamed of for years.

Just a little bit more…

She kicked free of her pumps, and he groaned when the movement pressed her more tightly against his throbbing erection.

Kneeling on the mattress, he pulled her into a sitting position, ravaging her mouth as he unzipped her dress. What’d seemed to take an eternity to do in her bedroom earlier this evening was undone in an instant with no more than a harsh
zziiiipp
of metal teeth pulling free from one another.

And this was it. Here and now. If she let this go any further, there’d be no turning back.

Stop
this!
, her mind screamed at her again. But that voice was growing fainter and fainter as Jake continued to love her, as her body started a steady chant of
oh wow…oh wow…oh wow!

And hadn’t she already suffered the consequences of loving him? Hadn’t she already suffered the heartbreak? So what would be the harm in giving herself this one night to finally
make
love to him?

Sure, that was nothing but a rationalization for what was undoubtedly one of the stupidest things she’d ever contemplated doing, but did she even care?

She’d spent the last few years suppressing her own needs for those of another. Pretending she didn’t miss the feel of a man moving against her, moving inside her. Acting like she didn’t burn with a need she refused to fulfill. And tomorrow she’d go back to all that. Tomorrow she’d resume her role, adjust her mask, step back into her mommy uniform.

But tonight?

For the first time in a very long time, she decided to be selfish, to take what she wanted and not worry about the consequences.

Tonight was going to be for her. For the woman she’d been before all the pain and anger and deception. For this one night, she wasn’t going to worry what the future might hold, what terrible hurts and revelations it might reveal. For this one night, she was going to forget it all and just…feel
.

Having made her decision, however idiotic it may have been—okay, it was undoubtedly idiotic, but she was done caring—she shrugged out of her dress, letting it pool at her waist. Jake pulled back, his eyes hungry as they stared down at her lacy bra and all it supported.

“My God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, using one finger to trace the silky, black strap. Following the material to the top edge of one cup, he gently dipped that long finger inside.

Goose bumps tripped up her spine.

She reached for him, and it was then he did something totally unexpected. He jumped up from the bed, turning his back on her and lacing his fingers together on top of his head. “I didn’t bring you here for this. I swear I didn’t. I
meant
it when I gave you that promise last night.”

“I know,” she breathed, shimmying out of her dress and panties, unhooking her bra and flinging it to the floor. Since she made her decision, she wasn’t going to let him back out.

She deserved this, dangit! She deserved the wantonness and fire and hedonistic thrill. After everything she’d been through, after everything he’d put her through, she deserved it…

He dropped his arms, turning to her, his hot eyes traveling over her naked body before he groaned. “You…” he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “You took off your clothes.”

“Yes, I did,” she whispered. “Now the only problem is that
you
haven’t taken off
yours
.”

She scooted to the edge of the mattress, kneeling in front of him as she reached for the buttons on his shirt. He didn’t stop her, just stood stock-still and watched as her fingers worked the buttons free. She reveled in the thin smattering of hair she revealed, darker than that on his head, although the tips were still golden and sun-bleached. His nipples were little brown disks and when the backs of her fingers grazed his stomach, the muscles beneath quivered in a series of accordion-like contractions. He shrugged his shoulders so she could pull the shirt away, then groaned again when she dropped her fingers to the buttons of his fly.

“Why are you doing this?” He grabbed her hands, stopping her. “Does this mean that you…? That we…?” He shook his head helplessly, the hope in his eyes enough to have a dead weight settling in the center of her chest.

For a moment, she wanted to forget everything that’d happened, everything he’d ever done, take him at his word when he said he loved her and he’d changed.

But men like him never changed, no matter how much they might believe they had. Eventually, when things got boring, when things got routine, he’d prove himself true to form and go in search of the next thrill.

It was as certain as tomorrow’s sunrise…

“Nothing’s changed,” she told him, reaching up to drag him down for a kiss. “We’ve always been good at this, or…” She chuckled, and she hoped he didn’t notice that the sound was a little desperate, “…at least I
think
we’d have been good at it if we’d ever been allowed to finish.”

His eyes were so green, staring at her searchingly, but he didn’t offer up further objections as she undid the last button at his fly and yanked his jeans and his boxers over his hips. His erection sprang free and—

Oh…wow…

He was long and pink and…absolutely perfect…

When she reached for him, he stopped her, manacling her wrist. She glanced into his face and saw the struggle in his eyes, in the hard tick of the muscles in his jaw. “This is what you really want, Jake. You know it’s only ever really been about this.”

Softly she pulled his hand away from her wrist and placed it on her breast. His eyes followed the move and the minute she skimmed his fingers across her hardened nipple, his nostrils flared, and his gaze narrowed.

“Shell,” he groaned, his eyes avidly watching the movement of his fingers as he circled and gently pinched at the aching bud. “It
isn’t
just about this.” But even as he said it, he moved closer, his knees bumping up against the mattress.

She reached for him again, and this time he made no move to stop her.

“Ah, God,” he whispered when she stroked her hand up his length.

“Let’s finally finish this,” she murmured, leaning forward to press her lips to the tip of him, reveling in the smell of aroused man, in the feel of silky hot skin sliding over a column of flesh-and-blood steel.

He made a desperate, hungry sound in the back of his throat before pushing her away so he could hop out of his boots, shedding his jeans and ankle holster in the process.

And then he was there, pressing her back into the mattress, covering her with his long, hard body, kissing her as feverishly as she kissed him, stroking her as hungrily as she stroked him, raking his teeth and tongue across her body when she wasn’t doing the same thing to him.

And just when she was about to throw a leg over his hips, when she was about to impale herself on all that hot, vibrant flesh she held in her hands, a seed of sanity bloomed inside her head.

She almost kept her mouth shut. After all, the question she needed to ask was the same question that’d made him come to his senses four years ago. The same question that had had everything coming to a screeching halt in the bathroom of the Clover Bar and Grill.

Still, the good Lord knew she couldn’t take any chances…

“You have a condom, right?” she panted, still stroking him. Running her thumb over his soft tip and spreading the silkiness she found there around his plump, smooth head.

He exhaled hard. “Damn, I don’t know. They may be in the bag I left at your house.”

For a brief instant, she considered throwing caution to the wind, especially when he did something crazy with his tongue.

“I guess,” she gasped and licked her lips, her body on fire, “I guess we’ll have to improvise.”

“Hold that thought,” he said, pushing from the bed only to retrieve his jeans from the floor and scrounge through the pockets. His sudden absence, and the cool rush of hotel room air that blew over her skin, was almost shocking.

She had to stifle the urge to launch herself off the bed, tackle him to the floor, and ride him until her eyes crossed.

Instead, she pressed up on her elbows. “What are you doing?” she asked, letting her avid gaze roam over his splendid male body, her eyes alighting on his tattoo, so vibrant and powerful-looking, spread across his beautifully broad back…

“Ah, ha!” He shouted triumphantly as he held up the two foil packages he’d pulled from his wallet. “Always be prepared. I
told
you I was a Boy Scout.”

***

Shell crooked a finger at him, a living, breathing goddess, beckoning him back to bed.

“Come here,” she said and, word up, he didn’t need to be told twice.

Okay, and it was official. He was the weakest-willed man on the entire planet, because he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he shouldn’t be doing this.

But she was naked.

In his bed.

And he loved her…

So despite the myriad reasons why he should put the brakes on this little endeavor, he found himself stalking toward the bed, intent on making love to her.

And it was going to be love. He’d make damn sure of that.

She didn’t believe the words when he gave them to her, so he’d show her with his hands and tongue and body just how much he cherished her, worshipped her.

How much he
loved
her.

He crawled up the bed, up her body, letting his eyes drift from sweetly painted toes to softly turned calves. Farther to silky thighs and amazingly curvaceous hips.

She had the cutest belly button. So little and perfectly round. It looked like it hadn’t decided whether it wanted to be an outie or an innie, so it’d become both. He couldn’t resist it. When he kissed it delicately, she giggled softly, spearing her fingers into his hair. He took that as his cue to continue his journey northward.

Of course when his gaze landed on her breasts, he had to stop again because…
yo
…they were perfect. Large and round, with dark, half-dollar-sized nipples. Nipples begging for his kiss.

He didn’t disappoint.

And when he lapped one with his tongue, she sighed. The sound went all through him, turning him on and revving him up.

He sucked her breast gently, loving the way she moaned and arched into him, loving the way his hands were filled to overflowing with her.

Shell wasn’t one of those delicate women who’d snap in two if he held her too tightly. She was an armful. A warm, soft, wonderful armful that he wasn’t afraid to love.

In a word: perfection.

He figured he could continue to make love to her breasts until eternity, knead their delicate lushness and kiss their hard tips until he went toes up from pleasure, but he remembered how much she loved to have her throat kissed. How it made her tilt her head just so…

He made his way up her soft neck, back to her sweet ear, letting his teeth and tongue graze against soft, fragrant skin and reveling in the way she lifted her chin, giving him all the access he could ever desire, giving in to him in a way he’d only dreamed possible.

He wanted to see her face. That beautiful face, those gorgeous eyes, and those amazing lips…

When he pulled back to look down at her, his heart stopped.

Holy, holy hell.
She was something all right. Eyes, heavy with passion. Cheeks, bright with a warm blush. Lips, slick and pink and swollen…just like the flesh between her legs would be.

He couldn’t stand it a second longer. He reached down and palmed her gently before inserting one and then a second finger inside her.

She was hot. Wet. A woman ripe with desire. Every dream he’d ever dared to dream. Every hot fantasy he’d conjured up in the middle of the night.