Tattooed Hearts (24 page)

“I was about to shower,”
he said.

She cleared her throat,
ignoring the rush of heat that coursed through her and told
herself
to calm down for a minute. “Can I come
in?”

Without a word, he stepped
back. They stood staring at each other for a beat, sexual tension electrifying
the space between them.

“Driving here was not
prudent,” he said in a gravelly voice. “There’s a blizzard outside.”

The act was a completely
reckless o
ne, but the heart had a way of throwing
caution to the wind. “I read your text.”

Something flared in his
eyes—desire. Her heart picked up pace again.

“That could have waited,”
he said, voice calm.

A tiny burst of panic
kicked the air out of her lungs. The
man was so
controlled. Here she stood, the cleft between her thighs moist and desperate,
and he was telling her they could have waited to have sex.
Definitely not.
She would have driven
through a tsunami tonight.

“No, it couldn’t.” There
was a pause,
then
she added, “I’m sorry.”

He ran a hand through his
hair.
“Me too.”

She shook her head. “Your
words hurt, but they were the truth.” She released a small sigh. “I’m sorry for
earlier. I’m sorry for walking away from you that night.” Just thinking about
Forre
st sitting in his room waiting made her heart
ache all over again. “I should have come to you. I shouldn’t have ignored your
attempts to talk to me, but…” she sucked in a breath, choking and fighting back
tears. “You’re the last person I ever wanted to hur
t.”
Her uncaring attitude went on for too long. “I was so…selfish. I’m sorry.”

She held her breath,
waiting, hoping. She loved him, always had, and always would.

“Claire…” he started in a
gravel voice.

“You still want me.” It
wasn’t a question, but her sto
mach still tightened a
little with angst.

“Always,” he said without
any hesitation, causing a pulse to run from the tips of her breasts to her
core.

The air snapped and
crackled. “I can do lust.”

He closed the door and
looked at her for a beat. Warning fla
shed in those
beautiful eyes of his, a very serious warning. One that said,
In
about thirty seconds, we are having wild animal sex.
She moved in closer just
as he took a step forward, the space between them ceased to exist.

He gripped her hips and
pressed
her against the hardness of his arousal. “I
can share my bed.”

Chapter Twenty

“Grab my hair like you grabbed my heart.”

Anonymous

Forrest studied Claire.
Her palms placed flat over his chest. Brown eyes hazy with lust looked up and
drew him in. The
fire she started in him over a
decade ago flared, the ache for her tight and hard in his gut.

Torn by the urge to strip
her naked and maybe…just maybe make it to the couch, or keep his balls in check
for the slow, deep penetration he craved most. Desire ru
mbled through his chest. But he’d set the pace. He liked control. More
importantly he wanted to know how she felt melting against him. Their first
time after a decade of longing, yearning, had been purely physical, straight
out, unadulterated blatant sex
…
f
or him.

Emotions tugged at his
stomach. This time he’d reciprocate.
This
was Claire pressing
against him. The woman he’d never gotten over.

He wanted to touch, kiss,
and wrap his arms around her. Not just for the sake of the physical connection.
That would
never be enough. He yearned for something
deeper–to lose himself in her. The need was so fierce it made his heart ache.

“Kerry’s car broke down,”
he said for no particular reason, except it was important she knew he’d never
go to someone else to spite her
. No matter how he
fought the longing, the warnings to not go back to what broke him, it’d always
come down to her. “I gave a friend a ride.”

“To her house,” she said
in a quavering voice.

“Then I went to Mrs. Kane
to shovel snow.”

At that she smiled. His
gaze dropped to her mouth, bare and tantalizing. He trailed
his lips along her jawline to her ear. She shivered against him. His mouth slid
to the corner of hers and was rewarded by the clutch of her hands on his
sweater. Having her cling on to him like...
he was her
only anchor, sent a leap of tangled emotions straight through him.

“No substitute, Claire,”
he murmured, just before their lips came crashing together.
Hard, passionate, the kind of kiss that would make anyone
weak at the knees, foggy in the hea
d, and leave them
not only wanting, but desperately needing more.

He wasn’t immune. He was
in deep, deep shit.

Slanting his mouth against
hers for more, she moved with him, into him, making the connection all the more
satisfying. He heard a heavy groan.
Hi
s.
Clearly he was out of his
mind. Satisfying wasn’t the right word. Not even close.

Hot.
She was so hot he
struggled to sustain control. And then she made one of those soft, mewling
sounds from the back of her throat, silently telling him she had capitula
ted and was now at his mercy. The sound wrecked his
equilibrium.

He kissed her more,
sinking deeper into her taste. Their hands bumped into each other as they
moved, grappling for control, something to grab, touch. Hers ran over his chest
and arms. His fum
bled with the buttons of her coat
until it fell onto the floor.

She angled her body
closer, her breasts pressed against his chest. Their bodies became magnets,
crashing into their opposite charge, smashing, pushing, and discovering each
other once more. Th
eir tongues moved together in a
hot duet. The temperature rose as they clawed their way through the kiss,
desperate for more.
Teeth, lips,
mouth, tongue–all furious and fevered heat as their hands tore at sweaters and
pants to get to that skin-on-skin cont
act.

It was then they broke the
kiss and stared at each other
, chest heaving, trying to catch their
breath
. Then she did what he least expected. She caught his hand
and brought her lips to the black ink on his forearm. The act hit him square in
the chest,
and air whooshed out of his lungs.

“I’ve missed you,” she
whispered in a trembling voice, before continuing the onslaught by moving to
his chest. She grasped a nipple between her teeth and ran her tongue over it.

His heartbeat sped up. “I
need to shower,”
he said, pebbles in his throat.

“I like you sweaty.”

Bending down, he scooped
her in his arms. She let out a little giggle, wrapped her hand around his neck
and didn’t let go until he dropped her on the bed. “First shower, I’ll be
quick.”

She arched a bro
w.

“In the shower,” he said,
and sucked on her lower lip.

* * * *

After waiting impatiently
for what seemed like eternity, but was really less than five minutes, Claire
bounced off the bed and headed to the closed door. She stood outside of the
bathroom,
listening to the sound of the water
running. She bit her lower lip, envisioning Forrest naked, dripping wet.
Sensations exploded in various parts of her body from all the emotions locked
up in her heart.

Desire.

Need.

Love.

Lust.

Lust, the sudden, powerfu
l, almost overwhelming desire for something that was
definitely bad for you.

Bah!
It was Forrest standing on the other side of the door. Her
first and only love, they had given their virginity to each other. Even then,
when they were inexperienced and disc
overing
together, they’d been good together.

Lust was definitely not a
bad thing. On the contrary, the hot doctor she was lusting after would be very
good for her…without a doubt.

Stripping out of her boots
and jeans, she pushed the door open and walked in
to
the steam-filled room. Her eyes immediately went to the fogged glass door and
fixated on Forrest’s faint outline.

He stood motionless, one
hand braced on the wall in front of him. His head hanging low as splash of
water pounded between his shoulder blad
es, rippling
over his body, from his sleek back to the perfect, mouthwatering curve of his
ass. Every muscle in her body tensed. The first time she saw him naked a decade
ago, she’d thought he was beautiful and never imagined he could get better.
She’d bee
n wrong. He’d filled out in all the right
places and then some.

He was gorgeous.

Her heart jumped and a
heightened awareness prickled every part of her body. She stood staring,
enthralled by his sheer beauty. She forced herself to take a deep breath, to
just breathe. Air in. Air out. He must have felt her presence because he
glanced ov
er, swiped at the glass, squinted and held
her gaze. Then the door slid open. Claire stared. One finger signaled her to
come forward.

She took a step and
stopped, not sure if she should remove her bra and panties first. Eyes locked
on hers, he wrapped his
hand around his hard length
and held. Her breath hitched. The juncture of her thighs throbbed and swelled.

“Keep coming,” he
said,
voice gruff.

Her legs took over and
moved forward, and then she was in the shower. He stepped back to give her room
under the
spraying jet stream. At first contact, the
warm temperature of the water made her suck in a breath, causing her hardened
nipples to rise. Forrest groaned, hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her
to him. “You’re so beautiful.”

She slid her fingers in
to his wet hair and pulled him down. “Kiss me.”

Catching her chin with his
thumb, he tilted her face up and gave in to her request. Claire opened for him.
His tongue delved into her mouth, seeking and demanding. His hands moved along
her back and unsnapped
her bra. He kissed her harder,
garnering a little whimper out of her.

At the sound, Forrest
pulled back just a fraction and looked into her eyes,
hot
wild lust in his gaze. It
mirrored what she felt inside. She tugged him in, needing to feel him, wanting
no space between them.

“Don’t stop kissing me.”

“Just slowing the pace,”
he said, running the pad of his thumb against her cheek.

She shook her head. “Don’t
ever stop.”

“Never?”
With his other hand, he
caught one peaked nipple between his thumb and index f
inger,
squeezed and rolled it gently.

Claire sucked in a breath.
“Never ever.”

His
mouth smirked in this
smile that made her know he was thinking of something. Lowering his head, his
lips grazed her jaw, her throat, across her collarbone. Before she knew i
t, he dropped to his knees and peeled off her panties. He
let out a guttural sound at the sight of her bared in front of him, then he
cupped her ass and squeezed.

“Open for me,” he said,
hands on her thighs.

She spread her feet and
found herself wide open
in every possible way. He
slipped his hand between her legs, sliding a finger, then another, through her
slick flesh. He teased and stroked until her core tightened, ready to unravel.

Then his
mouth.
Oh
God,
his
mouth…

He licked her once, ran
his tongue ag
ainst her bare flesh and groaned. “You
taste so fucking delicious.” Then kissed the most sensitive spot, this time he
took his sweet time–stroking, touching, kissing every inch of her so that she
was worked up into a near frenzy.

His hands tightened around
her thighs, spread her open even more, and let her wetness
flood his mouth.

Her head swam.

Her hips rolled with
abandon.

Her whole body pulsed for
him, blood thrumming through her veins to the rhythm of want, a pounding in her
ears that blotted out everyt
hing but the feelings
that charged through her. And when he rolled his fingers over the bundle of
nerves, she went over the edge, crying out his name.

His hands steadied her
thighs, holding her while her body trembled. He didn’t rise to his feet until
her
breathing was somewhat steady.

“Hold on to me,” he said,
leaning her against the wall.

“But…I want…” Her hands
moved below his waist, skimmed his hardness and held.

Nuzzling his face in her
neck, he shook his head. “Not now.” He turned off the water, grabb
ed a towel, and soaked up each glittering droplet from her
skin.

The intimacy behind the
act of Forrest drying her caused her heart rate to kick up. When he was
finished, he discarded the towel to the floor. Grabbing her ass, he scooped her
up, bringing th
em at eye level, her breasts smashed
against his chest. Her legs acted on instinct and wrapped around his waist. A
wave of heat licked her veins, scorching her. She welcomed it.

“Bed,” he said and ran his
tongue along the outer edge of her ear.

Claire shud
dered. He kissed her again, and she moaned with pleasure at
the taste of herself in his mouth.

She needed to have him.

He had to take her.

He was hot as sin, smelled
like lust, and radiated sexuality.

Wrapping her arms around
his neck, she held on and
didn’t let go until they
fell together on the bed.

He kissed her breasts,
suckled and nipped until they felt heavy and swollen. He touched and licked
every inch of her skin as if seeking to memorize her body or claim it. Either
way, she was his. He could d
o it for eternity.