Calder Storm (Calder Saga 10)

“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve made love to you in my mind?” His voice was thick and husky.

But it was the possessive darkness in his gaze, so stark and hungry, that stole her breath and charged her senses. Her hands rested lightly on his chest, yet she could feel the heat of his body through his shirt. And it was a barrier she didn’t want. The certainty of that made her bold.

“Did I enjoy it?” she asked, her lips parting on the last word, and her head lifting in invitation.

“Let’s find out.” It was a challenge and a statement, issued an instant before his mouth covered her lips.

The kiss was rough with need, filled with pent-up longings that awakened her own. Eagerly she returned its hot urgency, ready to be swept up in its seductive force and a little stunned that she hadn’t realized she could want this much.

Delicious shudders quivered through her when she felt the zipper slide apart and the air touched her bare skin, but not for long. His big hand took its place, the hint of callus on it creating a pleasant rasp to go with its searing warmth. She swayed against him, her body arching under the slow stroke of his hand.

It seemed the kiss had barely begun when he dragged his mouth away from her lips and onto her cheek, yet her lungs were starved for air. But the breath she took ended in a gasp and a moan when he nuzzled that sensitive hollow near her ear, igniting a dance of erotic shivers over her skin. They only increased when his tongue traced the inner shell of her ear.

For a moment she was lost to the delights of his nips and nibbles and the moist heat of his breath on her skin. When his hands first pushed the dress off her shoulders, she resented the subsequent pinning of her arms to her sides and initially resisted until she realized his intention. In an eager and liquid move, she lowered her arms and quickly pulled them free of the garment’s sleeves. The dress slid to the floor, puddling around her feet.

The lacy slip she wore beneath it was like a second skin, blocking none of his body heat or the sensation of his caressing hands. When his attention shifted to the long cord in her neck and the pulsing vein that ran alongside it, Sloan tipped her head, giving him greater access and thrilling to the fresh wave of shivers that swept over her.

She felt a great welling up of need within her, rising and expanding until she thought she would burst with it. She was slow to realize that part of the sensation was caused by Trey’s hands, traveling up from her hips to her rib cage and drawing her slip’s silken length along with them.

This time she knew instantly that his intention was to rid her of it. It was what she wanted, and yet a sliver of panic raced through her as Sloan realized that if she didn’t take control, she would soon lose it. Self-protection came into play, born of a need to keep from becoming too emotionally involved.

“Let me,” she whispered, as she stilled his hands. Her voice breathy with the disturbances he’d created within.

His fingers released the folds of her slip. She imagined that he expected her to remove it. Instead she went to work unfastening the buttons of his shirt. He was quick to help her by tugging the tails loose from his jeans. With the release of the last button, he shrugged out of it and gave it a toss behind him, leaving Sloan free to feast her gaze on the breadth of his shoulders and all his tanned, hard flesh.

She studied the complex roping of muscle, lean, and sharply defined, as if by a sculptor’s hand. From the ridged flatness of his stomach to the broadening sweep of his chest and shoulders, there wasn’t an ounce of fat to be found. He was the image of youthful manhood, virile and strong.

“I wish I had my camera,” Sloan murmured even as she smoothed her hands onto the center of his ribs.

“Oh no you don’t. You aren’t hiding behind any lens tonight.” His voice had an edge to it that held its own warning.

“Not tonight,” Sloan agreed and let her hands glide up to invade the wiry nest of chest hairs, then traveled on to the masculine flatness of his breasts and their pebble-like nipples.

Curiosity had her lipping one, an action that drew a half curse from Trey. She smiled, pleased that her touch disturbed him, and let her hands slide down to his waist.

Moving against him, she used her hands and her body to nudge him backward toward the bed. “I’ll help you off with your boots,” she told him, tipping her head to smile at him.

He responded with a small, negative shake of his head. “Nope. Your slip, then my boots.”

The smoldering darkness of his gaze had her heart tripping over itself, but she managed a soft laugh. “A negotiation, is it?”

“Or a fair trade.” His quick hands had already caught hold of the slip and gave it an upward pull.

Acquiescing, Sloan raised her arms. Like liquid, the slip slid up and over her head, then went sailing after his shirt. When she focused on his face again, her breath was taken by the caressing way his gaze moved over the lacy cups of her underwire brassiere, then down to her matching lace briefs.

There was so much desire in his face that it took her a moment to find her voice. “Your boots.” In another attempt to seize the initiative, she gave him a quick, firm shove, overbalancing him and sending him backward onto the bed.

r /> He sat down heavily, the springs creaking under his weight. Not giving him a chance to recover, Sloan quickly picked up his left foot and swung around to straddle it facing the boot, cupping a hand under its heel.

“You push. I pull,” she instructed.

Just as she tightened her grip on his boot, he clamped his hands on her waist and pulled her sideways and down, onto the bed beside him. The suddenness of it drew an outcry of surprise from her, then a laugh when she bounced on the mattress.

“That’s not fair,” she protested.

“It wasn’t fair that there was no place for me to do any pushing, not as dirty as the soles of these boots are.” He leaned forward and proceeded to tug off his own boots. “As attractive as the view was, it would have taken too long.”

“I could have managed,” she murmured idly, taking advantage of the chance to study, unobserved, the rippling movements of his arm and shoulder muscles.