Drawn in Blood (Burbank and Parker 2)

“Here is good.” Sloane’s voice was breathless, and her eyes held that familiar, smoky hunger that drove him crazy. She leaned forward and reached for him. “In fact, here is great.” Her words ended in an aroused whimper, as Derek reached under her, gripping her bottom and lifting her against him.

“No foreplay?” she managed, wrapping her arms around his neck and rubbing her body against his.

“Not this time.” He angled her, his erection nudging her, pushing slightly inside to see how ready she was.

She was more than ready for him.

He thrust all the way in and then some, simultaneously taking her mouth in an all-consuming kiss. His tongue mimicked the motions of his hips, plunging, stroking, retreating, again and again, and she held on, meeting him kiss for kiss, stroke for stroke.

It was over before either of them could think of prolonging it. Sloane came in hard, racking spasms. Derek spurted into her, each clench of her body milking his, drawing out his orgasm as he instinctively timed it to match hers.

An exquisite peak, and an equally exquisite plummet.

With a soft moan, Sloane went limp, her head dropping forward until her forehead was resting against Derek’s chest.

“Wow,” she said in broken pants. “Quite an initiation.”

“Just a prelude.” Derek’s ability to speak wasn’t much better.

“Your heart’s racing.”

“Your legs are quivering” was his hoarse reply.

She nodded against his damp skin. “I don’t think I can walk. Or stand.”

“Then don’t.” He lifted her, his body still lodged inside hers, and carried her toward the living room. “We’ve got a lot more initiating to do.”

It was hours later when they lay draped across each other in Sloane’s bed, replete with that utter, bone-melting peace that was the result of one of their marathon lovemaking sessions.

“Did I miss any rooms?” Derek muttered into her hair.

Sloane’s lips curved. “Definitely not. You were very thorough. We covered every room in the house—even the laundry room. Making love on a washer and dryer—that’s one I never thought of.”

“You loved it. You came twice.”

“No arguments. I’ll just never be able to think of it as a laundry room again. Guess you’ll be doing the wash from now on.”

“Touché.” Derek chuckled.

“I’m starved,” Sloane announced.

“Me, too. I was about to order a combo dinner—Thai and Chinese—when you walked in. Once that happened, all I wanted was this.”

“I don’t blame you. It was my first choice as well.”

“But now that I’ve worn you out, you’d like some sustenance.”

“Exactly.” Sloane eyed him with a wry expression. “And wipe that smug grin off your face. I gave as good as I got. You look like a train wreck.”

“True.” Derek wasn’t the least bit put off. “I feel like I was hit by an eighteen-wheeler, even though it came in a very small and sexy package. As for the Thai and Chinese, I could eat everything on both menus.”

Sloane sat up, squinting at the clock. “Well, we’d better hurry. We’ll get in just under the wire. The restaurants here close by nine. Ten if you’re lucky.” She gave Derek a playful poke as she reached for the phone. “Get used to the country, city boy. This isn’t Manhattan. No twenty-four/seven food.”

“It’s worth the sacrifice. The perks are good.”

Forty minutes later, Derek returned with their food. They ate in bed, right out of the cartons. The hounds, having been fed and taken out, were clustered around them, nibbling on their own treats.

“If we make a ritual out of this initiation process, I’ll never have the strength to work,” Sloane commented between bites.