“Where are you?” he asked her again, rotating his palm against her mound, pressing deep with his fingertips, playing her hard and well.
Unable to speak, she swallowed a moan and he released the exquisite building pressure, stopping her assent. “Doug, please.” Her hips jerked forward in a silent plea.
“Just tell me where you are,” he said, his own voice gruff with desire and raw emotion. “Open your eyes and look around.”
Had she closed them? Juliette forced her eyelids open and glanced over her shoulder into the dark night. “I’m outside.”
He rewarded her answer with just the right movement of his hand, the perfect rotation of his palm and fingertips, keeping the momentum going until she knew she was riding that wave once more, but stronger this time.
Holding on to Doug for support, she leaned her head backward, jerking her hips forward at the same time, seeking harder, deeper pressure.
“Is it raining?” he asked.
Knowing the result if she ignored the question in favor of sensation, she blinked and forced the answer from inside her. “Yes.”
He’d found the perfect turning, twisting motion and his hand seemed connected to her body, bringing her closer and closer to…
“Lightning?” he asked.
She was so, so near…Her body shook and a yawning emptiness warred with the cataclysmic fulfillment that was almost within reach. She didn’t want to speak, she wanted to feel. “No, no lightning. Not anymore.”
He quickly shifted their positions, leaning her against the door and repositioning his hand. The door gave her more solid support against her back, letting him thrust as hard and deep as he could, pushing her to the outer limits of desire.
“Thunder?” His voice sounded as hoarse and raw as she felt.
“Yes.” The pulsing picked up momentum and her hips gyrated against his hand. “Oh, yes.”
“What are you going to think of next time it rains?” His voice rasped in her ear.
“You,” she said as her body exploded.
He sealed his lips over hers, catching the word in his mouth, joining with her for the first wave of blinding light that could have been lightning striking them and she wouldn’t have cared.
Then the languorous, incredible waves subsided and reality set in. She’d come on to this man in a way that was completely foreign to her and she’d experienced delight at his hands. Much as she’d enjoyed it, she was mortified and didn’t know how she’d face him now.
“COFFEE’S READY.” Juliette walked into the sitting area of the small cottage holding two white mugs.
She wore a silky two-piece outfit that covered more skin than Doug would have liked, yet teased him with a low dip in the neckline and a faint outline of her full curves. Curves he’d still like to feel thoroughly and without the barrier of clothes.
He cleared his throat. “Thank you. Hot coffee’s great.”
“Are you still chilled?” She set the drinks on the table in front of the couch.
Though she’d been able to change into dry clothes, he’d had no choice but to remain in his damp ones. The jeans weren’t too wet but his shirt had soaked through, so he’d taken it off and wrapped a towel around his neck for comfort.
He picked up the mug, letting the heat pass from the cup through his body. “I’m better now.” Not because of the coffee but thanks to his view of Juliette.
Her hair fell in soft curls over her shoulders, her skin was makeup free and she turned him on more than any woman he’d seen dressed for a night on the town.
“This place amazes me. It’s got all the comforts of home and yet I’ve never felt further from my life.” She shifted her legs from one position to the next, while twisting one long lock of hair around her finger.
“I don’t feel much closer to mine,” he muttered. A chill shook him—from the rain, or her effect on him, he didn’t know.
“I wish I had something warmer for you to wear but I barely recognize the clothes in my suitcase and, trust me, there’s nothing remotely big enough to fit you.”
She couldn’t look him in the eye—or anywhere else for that matter. Doug wondered if he’d ever known a truly modest woman before. He wished she wasn’t so uncomfortable about the incredible experience they’d just shared. He wished he had a dry shirt to put on and ease her discomfort. But a bigger part of him wanted her comfortable with him, undressed or not. And damned if he didn’t want to repeat their outdoor experience, but this time they’d be in a warm bed and he’d be inside her body.
He swiped a weary hand over his eyes. Now that couldn’t happen. He’d already taken things further than he’d ever dreamed and, besides, her fidgeting told him how ill at ease she truly was.