Jack (The Family Simon 2)

There was no turning back.

He’d been scared shitless most of the day. With no idea of her whereabouts. With the cops telling him it wasn’t unusual for hikers to go missing for days. With the memory of their fight in his mind.

At one point, he would have gladly wrung her neck for putting him through that, but right now, with her soft and wet and willing, he had other things in mind.

Jack bent and swept a kiss over her mouth, biting her bottom lip before trailing a line down her throat. She arched backward and his cock hardened even more when her thighs pressed into him.

Her pulse ramped up, and he licked her there, his hands sliding over her wet body before his mouth left her throat and then closed over one of her nipples. He gave it a tug, his teeth grazing, teasing.

“Jack,” she gasped.

He smiled wickedly and then he suckled hard, his tongue and mouth firmly in place.

She bucked against him and then whimpered, her hands now in his hair and holding him there. He licked and sucked and kneaded until she swore (now there was his old Donovan), and yanked on his head so hard, he glanced up.

Her mouth was open and she was panting for him, that damn tongue licking the corner of her mouth, there where her mole was.

He reached for her again, hands on either side of her face. Both of them were breathing hard, and he needed to take a moment. Get some of that perspective back.

“Donnie,” he managed to say roughly. “Maybe we shouldn’t—“

“Oh we are,” she said hoarsely. “We so are.”

That was enough for him. His perspective could go to hell.

Jack’s tongue went deep as he claimed her mouth and kissed her with all the fury and passion and anger and need that was inside him. Tongues danced, hands slid over slick skin, touching here and caressing there, and it seemed like hours had passed when they eventually came up for air.

Christ, kissing had to be the most underrated form of pleasure there was. He could spend hours kissing this woman. Every cell in his body was firing all cylinders and Jack was so fucking hard and ready—all from a kiss.

He would have taken it slow. Gone back for some more tongue dancing. He would have loved and kissed every damn inch of her body. But Donovan wasn’t having any of that. There was a fever in her eyes, and he understood her need to connect.

He felt it too.

They could have lost everything today, but instead they’d found their way back to each other. Sure there was a lot of crap to wade through, but Jack wasn’t letting this woman go. Not again. Not even if she wanted it.

Donovan James was his, and he was going to damn well prove it to her.

“There’s no going back,” he said, hands on her hips.

Her bottom lip trembled a bit. “I don’t want to go back.”

Jack growled and lifted her into the air, hot water sluicing over them as he thrust deeply into her slick heat. Bracing her against the wall, he levered her just so, a dark grin on his face when she cried out and wrapped her legs around him.

“This is gonna be fast and hard,” he said hoarsely, his body finding rhythm, his strokes deep.

“Fast and hard is good,” she managed to say before kissing him into silence.

As it turned out fast and hard was more than good. In fact it called for seconds.

And it was nearly an hour and a half later when the two of them collapsed onto Jack’s bed. Both wet and satiated and thoroughly loved.

Jack rolled Donovan into his arms and held her until her breathing was even and he knew that she was asleep. Outside, the storm raged on and Jack had no way of knowing that a new one was brewing, and it would be one that would test him in ways he’d never thought possible.

He eventually drifted off, missing his cellphone and the vibration that signaled a slew of text messages.

A slew of messages that signaled the coming storm.

Chapter Twenty-two