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Make-Believe Wedding (Montana Born Brides Book 9) Page 8
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Page 8
Instantly he was thrown back to the feel of Andie’s mouth hot and wet beneath his, strawberry sweet and so willing the memory alone made him hard.
So much for being back in control.
“I’ll grab the rod,” he said gruffly, shoving the front door open more firmly than absolutely necessary.
His gut tensed as he waited for her to follow him inside, but she remained on the porch. A small mercy. He located the rod amongst his own in the second bedroom and returned to the front porch. She was standing with her back to the door, her hair swept forward over one shoulder as she looked out into the night. The urge to simply toss the rod to one side and slide his arms around her was so strong he had to grit his teeth.
He had no right to feel this way about her.
“Here.”
She turned to face him, and for a moment the curve of her cheek was limned by moonlight, pale and beautiful.
“Thanks.”
She took the rod from him, then offered him a small smile.
“Hope you don’t have too much of a headache in the morning. Call me if you need a lift to go pick up your car. But not too early, okay? I need my beauty sleep. “
The breeze lifted a strand of her hair, and again he was breathing in the sweet smell of berries.
“What is that, anyway?” he asked, unable to stop himself. “The strawberry thing.”
“My lip gloss. Why? Don’t you like it?”
Her gaze held his, deep blue and mysterious in the moonlight.
“No.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s addictive.”
“Oh.” She lifted a hand to her lips, then thought better of it and let it fall to her side.Even though the voice in his head was telling him to back the hell up, he took a step forward.
“I’m giving you fair warning, Andie. If you don’t leave this porch in the next three seconds, I’m going to break every rule I have a hundred different ways.”
Her gaze widened. Then her gaze dropped to his mouth. The fishing rod clattered to the porch as she dropped it. Andie took a step forward, closing the final distance between them.
“Thank God,” she said.
Chapter Eight
Heath’s mouth came down on hers hard and hot, pushing her head back on her neck. His arms were as strong as steel as they wrapped around her, dragging her body against his. His tongue stroked hers, a demanding, urgent invasion, and she gripped first his shoulders, then his back and finally his hips as she tried to get as close to him as she could. Her whole body felt as though it was on fire, every stroke of his hands on her throat and back stoking the flames. Then his hand slid around her ribcage and onto her breast, his thumb finding her nipple with unerring accuracy, and it was all she could do not to sob out loud.
Had she always known it would be like this with him? Was that why she’d stayed fixated on him for so many years?
The thought barely had time to form in her mind before he slipped his hand beneath her t-shirt and pushed her bra out of the way, cupping her breast in his warm palm and blowing her mind utterly.
“God, Heath, yes,” she panted, unable to contain herself. “Please.”
He pressed his hips more firmly against hers, kissing his way to her ear.
“Tell me what you want, Andie. Tell me what you need.”
“You. I need you, inside me. I want your mouth on my breasts. I want everything.”
Heath swore, and the next thing she knew he was kissing her again, his free hand on her ass urging her hips tightly against his. They ground together desperately, his hand doing indescribable things to her breast and nipple, his tongue claiming her mouth. He walked her backward, into his house, and together they bumped into the hall wall. He pulled at her t-shirt, not breaking their kiss until the last possible moment as he whipped it over her head, and then his gaze was raking her breasts, his eyes glittering with desire.
“Andie,” he groaned, reaching for her with his big hands.
She arched her back, pushing herself into his palms, swallowing a sob as he pinched her nipples and then soothed them with his thumbs. Her sex felt swollen and achy with desire, and all she could think about was having him inside her, stretching her.
She reached for his belt buckle, yanking it free with shaking hands. His stud followed, then his fly, and then she was sliding her hand down his smooth, flat belly and wrapping it around the velvet steel of his erection. She stroked her hand up and down his length, her inner muscles clenching as she imagined how it was going to feel when all this leashed power was inside her.
“Andie,” he said, and there was a warning beneath his words.
She stroked him again, and the next thing she knew she was on her back in the hallway, Heath looming over her, his face taut with need. He lowered his head to her breasts, pulling first one and then the other nipple into his mouth and sucking until she cried out from the pleasure-pain of it. His hands worked at the stud on her jeans, and she lifted her hips frantically as he pushed them as well as her underwear down her body. She heard the dull clink of her jeans landing on the floor as his mouth tugged at her breasts and he slid a hand over the silk of her pubic hair and between her thighs.
The first touch of his fingers on her swollen center nearly made her levitate. When he stroked her and plunged a single finger inside her she dropped her head back and started to pant.
How could anything feel this good? How could this be legal? How could she have lived twenty-six years and not experienced so much need and want and desperation?
“Andie, Andie.” Heath’s voice was ragged and broken, unrecognizable. “How did you get so fucking sweet?”
Something exploded inside her. She needed him right now. She’d waited thirteen years. It was enough. Too much.
She pushed him away, taking advantage of his surprise to shove him onto his back. Then she threw her leg over him and slid on top. Absolutely intent on her mission, she pulled him free from his underwear, her whole body shaking with anticipation. He was so hard yet so delicately silky in her hand as she lifted her hips and notched him into place. Her hair fell forward as she bore down on him, biting down on her lip to stop herself from screaming.
He felt so good. Amazing. So big and thick…
His hands found her hips, his eyes never leaving her face as she took him to the hilt.
“Oh, yes,” she moaned, utterly overwhelmed.
The urge to move was too powerful for her to remain still for long, and she rose again, feeling the delicious slide of him inside her.
More. She needed more of this beautiful madness. His hands found her breasts, massaging, teasing, as she found a fast, urgent rhythm, riding him toward the climax that was even now bearing down on her.
It hit her like a blow, tightening every muscle, throwing her head back, loosing a keen from her throat.
“Heath. Heath,” she sobbed, totally lost.
He pulled her down onto his chest, holding her close before rolling so that she was once again beneath him. Then he started to pump into her, and even though she’d thought she was done, that it was over, that there couldn’t possibly be more, she felt herself tighten again.
“Please,” she begged. “Yes, please.”
“Stay with me, baby,” Heath whispered against her mouth. “Stay with me.”
His tongue stroked hers, echoing what their bodies were doing, and she wrapped her legs around his hips and met him thrust for thrust. And then she was coming again, and he was shuddering, his face pressed into her neck, his fingers clenched into her hips as he lost himself to his own climax.
Her head hit the hall floor with a thunk as she let it drop backward, suddenly too exhausted to keep it up. She was utterly spent, breathless, her body limp and damp with sweat, the last ripples of her climax still washing through her.
Well. She’d always wondered what it would be like with Heath.
And now she knew.
God, how she knew.
Heath woke to the sound of running water. He cracked an eye, frowning. Stretched out a hand. Sure enough, the sheets were still warm beside him.
It hit him then, all of it. Andie driving him home. His warning for her to leave. Her pushing him onto his back and taking them on the wildest ride of his life.
He stared at the ceiling, waiting for regret to hit him. He’d let them both down last night, not to mention Beau. Try as he might, though, he couldn’t drum up even a scrap of guilt or regret. It had been that good, that hot. That amazing.
For the rest of his life, his personal definition of sexy would be the sight of Andie riding him, her face flushed, her hair tangled around her shoulders as she gave herself over to desire. Her small, firm breasts. The lean planes of her belly. The slenderness of her arms and shoulders…
The water shut off abruptly in the next room. He ran a hand over his face, trying to work out how to play this. Because this was Andie, and what they’d done last night had the potential to cause a lot of problems, for both of them. They hadn’t used a condom, for starters, that first time in the hallway. He’d managed to get it together enough the second time, when they’d made it onto his bed, but that didn’t negate the first time, or the fact that she worked for him, or who Beau was in his life, or–
Andie appeared in the bathroom doorway, a towel wrapped around her torso and cinched beneath her arm. Her slender legs seemed to go on forever, and her hair hung dark blonde and wet around her face. She paused when she saw he was awake, and something flickered and then was gone in her blue eyes.
“Hi,” she said.
He pushed his hair off his forehead. “Andie… I owe you an apology for last night.”
She tucked the corner of the towel more firmly under her arm. “No, you don’t. I had a good time. There’s nothing for you to apologize for. Unless you didn’t. And then I guess I should be the one apologizing to you.”
The uncertainty in her tone was the only thing that stopped him from smiling. “Andie. We didn’t even make it to the bedroom.”
“And… that’s a good thing…?”
“Trust me.”
“It’s just I’m not that experienced with all of this.” Her gesture took in the bedroom and the two of them.
He was experienced, however, and there was no excuse for forgetting to use a condom last night. Something they really needed to address.
“Listen.” He cleared his throat. “We need to talk about consequences.”
“Consequences?” She looked alarmed for a moment, then her expression cleared. “Oh, you mean pregnancy.”
“We didn’t use anything that first time in the hallway.”
“Right.”
He watched, fascinated, as color moved up her chest and into her cheeks.
“Are you on the pill?” he asked.
“No. I’m pretty sure I’m safe, since I just finished my period a couple of days ago. But I’ll go to the doctor and get some emergency contraception.”
“Okay. Good.” He forced himself to say the rest of what needed to be said. “I’m, um, good to go otherwise. Medically speaking. I had my annual physical a month ago.”
“Oh. You mean…”
“Yeah.”
“Me, too. I mean, not that it’s that big an issue, since I’m not exactly, you know, active as such. Recently, anyway.” She tucked her hair behind her ears, her cheeks very pink now. Her gaze darted to where her clothes were abandoned in the corner, and he knew she was wondering how she was going to get dressed without him seeing everything. Even though they’d practically devoured each other last night.
She was adorable. And sexy as hell. And he couldn’t help thinking that even though there were a million things that could go wrong as a result of what happened last night, it would be a crying shame to ignore the fact that she was fresh from the shower and naked as a jaybird under that towel.
“You have anywhere you need to be in a hurry?” he asked.
“Did you want to go pick up your car?”
This time he didn’t bother hiding his smile. “I don’t give a flying fig about my car, Andie. Come over here.”
Her eyes went round, then her gaze dropped to the sheet where it was pooled around his waist.
“Um. Okay.”
She walked to the bed, and he crooked his finger, encouraging her closer still. She stopped when she was standing in front of the bedside table, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
“Is this close enough?” she asked.
“Not by a long shot.”
He reached out and fisted his hand in the fabric of her towel. Andie swallowed. He tugged gently, and she lifted her arms, loosening her grip on the towel. It came away in his hand, and he let it fall to the floor.
She was beautiful, from the delicate framework of her clavicle to the plump rosiness of her breasts to the subtle sweep of her hip and the silken hair at the juncture of her thighs. And those legs… He could still feel them wrapped around his waist as he hammered into her.
She shifted her weight minutely, enough to let him know she was uncomfortable with his scrutiny. Which was crazy, because she was utterly delicious. He came onto his knees and reached for her. She stepped into his arms, and he buried his face in the fragrant skin between her breasts.
“You have no idea what you do to me, do you?” he said. Then he turned his head and licked the side of her breast.
Her body trembled in his arms and her hands slid from his shoulders to his head, her fingers threading through his hair.
“Tell me,” she said, her voice a low husk.
“You make me hard. You make me want things I shouldn’t want. You make me want to lock the door and keep you all to myself.” He punctuated each sentence with a lick, moving closer and closer to her nipple. It pebbled beneath his gaze, and her hips swayed subtly toward him.
“What’s stopping you?” she asked,
He glanced up at her. She was watching him through heavy-lidded eyes, her mouth slightly open.
“Absolutely nothing.”
Sliding his hands onto her backside, he urged her closer, opening his mouth over her breast. She made a small, inarticulate sound as he teased the taut bud with his tongue. He slid one hand over the curve of her butt, down between her thighs, and she widened her stance as he delved between them.
She was ready for him, swollen with need. Just as it had last night, something tripped in his brain, some primitive instinct, and it was all he could do not to drag her down onto the bed and plunge inside her. He settled for kissing his way down her belly and using his hands to tilt her hips forward as he pressed a kiss to her mound. Her hands clenched in his hair, and he sensed that she was holding her breath, every muscle taut.
A wild thought occurred: she’d said she wasn’t very experienced, but surely this wasn’t a first for her…?
He was caveman enough that the thought turned him on. The idea that he would be the one who initiated her into this particular, very intimate pleasure was hugely gratifying, and he put his own desire and needs to one side as he pressed another kiss to the silk of her pubic hair. He delved deeper, tracing the seam of her sex with his tongue, and she trembled in his arms.
Inch by inch, moment by moment, he loved her with his mouth and tongue, pleasuring her until she was panting, her legs shaking. Then and only then did he draw her down onto the bed, sliding one hand beneath her ass as he spread her thighs wide.
She gripped his shoulder with one hand, the back of his head with the other as he feasted on her in earnest, discovering all her secrets, reveling in every moan, every twitch of her hips, every clench of her hand. She came with a low gasp, her back arching off the bed, her breathing tortured, and he kissed her thighs and belly and hips in the aftermath, savoring her satisfaction.
Her eyes were closed when he made his way back up to her breasts but they opened again when he spoke.
“Would you-”
“Yes. Please.”
Her blue gaze was frankly, unrepen
tantly hungry, and he leaned across to find a condom in the bedside unit. Thirty seconds later, he was inside her and every thought blanked from his mind.
There was only the sound of her breathing, the warmth of her body, the taste of her skin, the sweet, crazy-making clench of her around him. He took it slow, savoring each second, waiting for her desire to build again. When she started to pant, he reached between their bodies and found her with his thumb. She came apart with a cry, her head dropping back, and he followed her, thrusting himself deep one last time.
They were both damp with sweat, their breathing ragged as they came back down to earth. He pressed a kissed to her lips, then the corner of her jaw, and finally against the soft skin beneath her ear. Even though his body felt heavier than lead, he forced himself to roll to the edge of the bed and stand. Four steps took him to the bathroom, where he disposed of the condom. Andie lay sprawled across his bed when he returned, a study in decadence and abandon. He climbed back in beside her, pulling up the sheet and duvet, and Andie shifted to the other side of the mattress.
He reached for her without thinking, drawing her back, wrapping his arms around her. She was tense for half a heartbeat, then she relaxed into his embrace, resting her head on his shoulder.
“Can I make you breakfast?” he asked after a while.
“Are we talking cereal or toast?”
“How does bacon and eggs sound?”
“Essential.”
He laughed, and even though he couldn’t see her face he knew she was smiling, too. The smile faded from his mouth as he registered how good she felt against him, how well their bodies fit together. He knew they should probably talk about all the complications this created in their lives, but for the life of him he couldn’t bring himself to go there. This moment, right now, felt pretty freaking perfect, and he was damned if he was going to ruin it just yet.
There would be plenty of time for reality to crash around them. For now, he had Andie in his arms, in his bed, and it felt like more than enough to be going on with.
Chapter Nine