“Jamie.”
He looked up and saw she was watching him with an expression of intense arousal on her face. He thrust upward and she gave a small exhalation, and then bent forward, her hair draping around his face. Jamie cupped her face and drew her down and kissed her deeply, absorbing the taste, the feel, the sound of her.
Her inner muscles clenched around him, and he wasn’t going to last. Dragging his mouth from hers, he made a guttural sound of pleasure. He was so damned close, but he didn’t want to come without her.
“Sit up, baby,” he said, his voice a harsh rasp.
Rachel complied, straightening, and then arched backward, slowly grinding her hips against his as her breasts thrust forward. She was achingly feminine, and Jamie didn’t think he’d ever seen a woman as sexy or beautiful as Rachel McCafferty, riding his cock.
Jamie devoured the sight, but it only served to ratchet his lust higher. Reaching down, he pressed his thumb against the apex of her slick folds, feeling the hardened little nub beneath his finger. Rachel’s face twisted, and she gave a broken cry of pleasure. She contracted around his length, again and again, and he watched her expression as she found her release, before he finally let himself go. He came in a white-hot rush, surging upward as he gripped her hips, pulsing deeply inside her until he was completely spent.
Rachel collapsed against his chest, and for a long time there was only the sound of their uneven breathing. After a few minutes, he withdrew carefully, and Rachel lay down beside him and put her head on his shoulder. She traced an invisible pattern across his torso with her fingertips.
“Was that good?” she finally asked.
Jamie angled his head to look at her in disbelief. He’d just had the most amazing, mind-blowing experience of his life, and she was asking if it had been good?
With a huff of laughter, he pulled her close and pressed his mouth against her hair.
“Sweetheart,” he finally said, “if that had been any better, I’d be dead.” He had a sudden, alarming thought. “Please tell me it was good for you, too.”
Rachel started to laugh, and buried her face against his chest. When she looked at him, a smile curved her lips. “Are you kidding? I can’t believe that’s what I’ve been missing all these years.”
Jamie sagged against the pillows in relief, even as he swelled with pride. He—skinny little Jamie Colter—had just made love to the girl he’d dreamed of for more than twelve years. Life couldn’t get any better.
Chapter Ten
Rachel didn’t know how to tell Jamie that having sex with him had been a huge—scratch that, colossal—mistake.
All three times.
Closing her eyes, she groaned. What had she been thinking? The truth was, she hadn’t been thinking. She’d had too much to drink. She could blame the wine, the firelight, and Jamie’s proximity on the chaise as the reasons why her good sense had taken a vacation, leaving her with no ability to resist him.
But she’d be lying to herself.
Last night, she had wanted him.
Desperately.
But now, standing on the patio in the cool dampness of early morning with the acrid smell of ashes from last night’s fire lingering in the air, it all seemed like a giant lapse in judgment. She’d come home to Glacier Creek to gain some perspective on her life—and on men in general. Jumping into the sack with the first good-looking guy who crossed her path was so not part of the plan!
But he was so unbelievably gorgeous!
And funny. And smart. And kind.
And hot.
Surely a woman could be forgiven for succumbing to the kind of temptation that was Jamie Colter. Rachel didn’t know whether to despise herself for her lack of willpower, or fist-pump the air because she could still attract a good-looking, younger guy.
Oh, God, he was so much younger!
She definitely despised herself.
She obviously had no morals, and no discrimination, or she would never have allowed what was supposed to be a business relationship cross over the line into intimacy.
She was an idiot.
“Hey, what are you doing out here? I woke up to find you gone, and I had plans for you this morning.”
Rachel turned to see Jamie standing just inside the sliding doors to the kitchen. At least he’d put his clothes on. She didn’t think she could focus if he’d been bare-chested.
Ignoring the suggestion in his voice, she drew in a deep breath. “Jamie, we need to talk.”
His face grew still. “Ah, here it comes. The little speech about last night being a mistake.”
Rachel frowned. Was she that transparent?
“You have to know it was a mistake,” she said, and pushed past him into the kitchen. She rinsed her cup in the sink—anything to avoid having to face him. “Last night was fun, but it can’t happen again.”