At the sound of his husky voice, she trembled. Shaken or not, when the man started a project, he apparently liked to finish. Something they had in common. Because she hadn’t finished wanting him.
“Then what are you waiting for?” Funny how she found bravery beneath closed eyes.
His hot fingers grabbed hold of her foot and began a slow, easy massage. He kneaded and rubbed, pressed and released, eliciting a torturous yet rapturous sensation at the same time. He coated her foot and calf with scented oil, pausing to relubricate his hands before doing the same to the other leg and then moving upward.
He’d only grasped her ankle yet the rest of her flesh burned. He built up the steady press and release rhythm anew, one her body seemed to recognize and mimic until the pulsing of her muscles found an answering vibration in areas he had yet to caress.
“I have to admit, you’ve got talent,” she said on a soft sigh, opening her eyes.
“You haven’t seen anything yet.” He met her gaze with a lingering look that felt more like a caress. His smile obviously meant to reassure.
His hands eased up from her knee to just above the hem of her skirt. When he touched skin, his eyes widened in surprise. “No bottoms.”
“Of course not. They’re in your pocket,” she said, treating him to what she hoped was a disarming grin and a teasing glint in her eyes. Bravado was all she had left to rely on. He’d seen and felt everything else. “You doubted me.”
“I doubted your nerve,” he conceded. His fingers swept in broad strokes across her femininity and her breath caught in her throat. “But I shouldn’t have.” His features darkened. “And if you want me to stop, I will. Just say the word.”
Jack’s hands closed around her thighs. He leaned over her, his dark head bowed so she looked directly into his compelling and intense gaze.
His thumb grazed tingling flesh that had been deprived for too long. He initiated long, smooth strokes that tantalized and teased, seduced and captivated.
“Stop?” She’d die if he did.
The delicious movement of his fingertips paused. His dark eyes questioned. And Mallory feared she’d broken the spell and she’d never feel the culmination of his fervent ministrations.
She licked her lips, coating the dry skin. “That was a rhetorical question.” In fact she was more afraid of him stopping than of him taking the next step.
Relief washed over his handsome features, but he didn’t say a word, just reached for the bottle once more. He poured a quarter-sized amount of liquid into his hand. “The sun can be deadly to skin that’s not used to the harsh rays.”
“So I’ve heard.” Her heart began to pound hard and fast, but somehow she managed a smile. One meant to reassure him she wanted everything and anything he planned.
His grin was nothing short of intoxicating as he parted the scarf she’d tied around her waist earlier and slipped his hands beneath the material. “In fact, I’d better make sure I coat every inch.” His entire palm cupped her thigh so his fingertips merely grazed her private folds.
The tingling she’d felt earlier turned into a full-fledged blaze. A teasing hint of what was to come, and her hips jerked upward of their own volition. “I…” She realized the sound came out more a moan than a coherent word. “I’m burning now.”
“But you’re burning from me, not the sun.” His slick fingers met her waiting flesh.
Dizzying sensations assaulted her as hot, coated strokes of his fingertips parted and caressed. She moaned as he kneaded her in exactly the right place. The moan turned her into a wild woman, her hips bucking against his hand.
Jack muttered a soft curse. Sweet heaven. And that’s where he was, in heaven, with a woman more responsive, more open and giving than any he’d known. Dampness coated his hand and despite the slick oil, he knew he’d found her essence. His own body throbbed but he couldn’t relieve his or her passion that way. No matter how much he wanted to.
No matter how much he wanted her.
Because this romp on the beach had taught him something about himself. He could lose himself in this woman. After all he’d seen in his jaded youth, life and career, there was no way he could allow it. But he could enjoy her warmth and heat and reve
l in giving her pleasure with no threat to himself.
He glanced down at her delicate features. Her eyes were shut tight, her face alight with passion. He was in control of her emotions and her release. And that’s all that mattered.
Each movement and caress of his hand elicited a new response. Enthralled by the pure rapture and need he saw on her face, the temptation to prolong his exquisite torture was appealing. But not at her expense and though she was obviously enjoying it, he’d also brought her too close, too fast.
He did the only thing he could. He eased his finger inside her hot, moist body. She shook and convulsed around him, and then her body squeezed his finger tight, gripping him in damp heat and complete ecstasy.
He stretched out beside her. With his free hand, he smoothed long strands of hair off her face. “Look at me.”
Her velvet blue eyes opened wide and she met his gaze with an imploring one of her own. He shifted his hand. Without withdrawing his finger, he cupped her entire mound in his palm and rotated with gentle pressure.
“Jack.” Her eyelids opened wide as she breathed his name.