She shifted. Her hands skimmed his shoulders, then dipped beneath the open collar of Jake's shirt.
The decision, if there ever really had been one, was made. The way her choppy, almost confused sounding sigh rang in his ears was an unnecessary confirmation that, while what he was about to do wasn't exactly right, he was going to—had to—do it anyway. Consequences be damned. What was going to happen had been a foregone conclusion—an inevitability—since the second he'd slipped his hands beneath that frigid river-water to free her ankle from the tree branch.
He'd wanted her then.
He wanted her more now.
And he was going to have her. Damned if he wasn't!
The male in him was wild with hunger, driven by urges too essential to deny. Primitive needs rushed to the fore. They had no rhyme or reason. They were too strong and consuming to ignore or deny.
He was going to have her, going to make her his. God help him, he was going to possess this lady—this white lady—right here, right now.
Chapter 11
The sun peeked from behind a water-heavy cloud, warming the cool breeze that puffed over Amanda's skin, warming the drops of rain that sprinkled her cheeks.
Of course, she could have been in a blizzard for all she would have noticed. Jake was kissing her—deeply, hungrily, as though he never intended to stop kissing her. His mouth ate at hers, devouring the giving softness of her lips. His hands stroked feverish paths up and down her arms. Her body burned for him to stroke her just as feverishly elsewhere. Everywhere.
If there was anything else in the world besides the two of them, Amanda didn't notice. She'd waited so long for this moment. She wouldn't let herself be distracted.
Jake's fingers, riding her waist, tightened as he deepened the kiss, lightened it, then deepened it yet again. Amanda snuck her hands under the collar of his shirt. The muscles gliding beneath her fingertips bunched and flexed with his every move, proof of his dormant strength. It was odd that she didn't feel frightened or intimidated by that, the way she had been by his fury. Considering the circumstances, she should be scared senseless. And that, she thought, was exactly the problem. When Jake Chandler held her like this, kissed and touched her like this, she simply could not think straight. Nor did she want to.
Their mouths hungrily locked, Jake shifted and lifted Amanda off of the mare. He turned her slightly, and settled her in front of him atop the white. The animal felt strong and solid beneath her, but not as strong and solid as the big hand that settled possessively on her hip. She sucked in a ragged breath when Jake dragged her up against his chest, tightly, as though he was trying to melt her through his clothes, into his warm flesh. His fingers curled into her bottom as he molded the side of her hip into the wedge of his parted thighs. The firmness of the horse felt as soft as sun-warm clay when compared to the hard strength of Jake's body, pressing against her.
Jake pulled back only far enough for his tongue to stop plundering Amanda's mouth. His appetite momentarily appeased, he seemed content to let the very tip of his tongue skim her kiss-swollen lips. He licked and savored, sipping at the hot sweetness of her mouth without launching a second invasion. Yet.
While one hand hovered near her waist—the fingers flexing and releasing the wrinkled calico, tunneling possessively into the soft white flesh beneath—his other hand slipped behind her back. His palm stroked a path of fire up her spine, then hooked over a slender shoulder. He yanked her so close their frantic heartbeats entwined.
"Remember the kiss?" His hot, moist tongue stroked her lips between each huskily whispered word. "The first kiss, princess. The one we were supposed to put behind us and forget."
Amanda h
esitated, then nodded as best she could with her head thrown back, and Jake's breath burning hotly over her chin, along her jaw, down the sensitive taper of her neck. "I... yes, Jake, I remember."
"It didn't work for me either. I didn't forget you, Amanda. I tried... God, how I tried! But I didn't, couldn't forget how sweet you taste. How much I wanted to taste you again."
"I know," she said hoarsely and sucked in a shaky breath when his teeth nibbled a particularly vulnerable spot, the center of her lower lip. A trickle of heat feathered through her blood, a hot surge of desire poured through her veins. Her hands fisted his shirt, even as she arched more closely against his hard male heat. "I—I know you didn't forget, Jake."
His silky hair tickled her throat when he nodded. He tasted the skin on the side of her neck, just below her ear. With a throaty moan, he sucked a patch of it into his mouth.
Damn, she tasted good! All creamy and sweet. Forbidden fruit, forbidden white skin. He hesitated, abandoning himself to the bittersweet flavor of her, the bittersweet feel of her flesh skimming beneath his hungry tongue. He kissed her neck, nuzzled the possessive red mark his suckling mouth had branded into her flesh. He stopped to gulp in a long, shuddering breath.
Jake's head lifted. His passion-darkened gaze seared into Amanda. Her head was thrown back, cradled against his shoulder, her throat eagerly exposed to him. He could see the pulse pounding in the creamy hollow. As tempting as it would be to caress that frantic beat with his tongue, he didn't. Not yet. But the temptation was there, and it was stronger than anything he'd ever felt before.
His gaze lifted. Wispy strands of spun gold had escaped the braid at her nape. The long, rain-dampened tendrils made spirals to frame her cheeks and brow. Her lips were swollen from his kisses. So moist. So tempting. As he watched, her lips parted oh, so softly, as though begging for a fuller exploration.
Jake promised himself she would get exactly that.
Soon. But there was something his mind demanded he say to this woman before his body took control. He waited until her lashes had swooped up. The fear that he was about to stop this sensuous madness shimmered in her eyes; it was tempered by a determined green glint that said she would not let him stop. Not now, perhaps not ever.
"I told you I don't repeat my mistakes, Amanda Lennox," he said, his voice strained. He tightened his hold on her when she flinched. Her eyes looked huge and moist in what little light the day offered. Her attention shifted to the side of his neck, which was concealed from view by the thick black curtain of his hair. Their thoughts meshed on the scar creasing his skin.
Pain swam in her eyes, tightened her expression. The same pain knifed through Jake. The intensity of it might have made him stop talking there and then, had he allowed himself to surrender to it. He didn't.
He sandwiched her cheeks in his open palms and held her steady when she would have looked away. Dammit, he didn't want her looking away from him! Not now. He wanted her eyes on him, nowhere else, when he said what needed to be said and said it as quickly as humanly possible. "Kissing you once and hoping it would get you out of my system was a mistake, lady. One I don't intend to repeat."
"Kissing me is a mistake?" she asked weakly. Her voice cracked, but it was nothing compared to the crack his words chiseled in her heart. He was going to reject her again. She could feel it, dreaded it.