Under the Boardwalk (Costas Sisters 1)

Quinn let out a low groan. “What you do to me . . .” He shook his head. “It defies description.”

His groin pulsed low and hard against her feminine mound and she couldn’t help but smile. “That’s good to know, because I’m pretty swept away myself.”

He rolled to one side, opening the night table drawer and pulling out a sealed box of condoms. Ariana couldn’t believe how ridiculously happy she was to see that he hadn’t used them before. With no discussion, he opened them and sheathed himself, then he returned to pick up where they’d left off.

But Ariana wasn’t content to let him have his way this time. She hooked her leg around his and maneuvered him onto his back.

“Looking to be in charge?” he asked wryly.

“You don’t seem like you’re complaining, either.” She lowered herself over him, slowly, deliberately taking him inside. As she felt him full, hard, and completely in her body, the mix of emotions was almost too much for her to handle and she closed her eyes.

“Ari. Look at me.”

She did as he asked and Quinn used that precise moment to thrust upward, impaling himself deep inside her. Their gazes connected as tightly as their bodies, forcing her to acknowledge her own feelings, even if she didn’t voice them aloud.

No matter his intent, looking into his darkened gaze made her come face-to-face with the wealth of emotion he pulled from her. And then he shifted beneath her and she couldn’t think at all. Her body began another rapid climb toward fulfillment, this time more satisfying with Quinn joining her for the ride.

Her hands grasped his and she gyrated her hips in a circular motion until her most sensitive spot ground tight against him. Clenching her internal muscles, she gripped him in warm, wet heat and again her body reached higher until together they found a matching rhythm all their own.

His hips pumped upward, hers downward, faster and faster, the intensity spiraling beyond reason. Unable to maintain any semblance of control, she stretched herself over him and ground her hips into his, her climax beginning and peaking almost at the exact same time.

Waves and waves of rapture washed over her and she rode the crest, rode him, prolonging the exquisite sensations and feelings until she was wrung dry.

Ariana woke up to the most pleasurable feeling of being wrapped in complete warmth and safety. She couldn’t ever remember such utter bliss and she inhaled deep. Musky scents assailed her, scents of passion and Quinn. Unwilling to let herself think and possibly spoil the moment, she eased back into him. He was spooned around her, holding her tight.

“You’re up?” he asked in a low, morning-roughened voice.

“Mmm-hmm.”

He nuzzled her neck in reply. “You smell delicious in the morning.”

“That’s ridiculous,” she said and laughed, but she’d thought the same thing about him. “You don’t snore.” The words popped out without thought.

“Did you expect me to?”

“No. It was just an observation.” She wasn’t about to explain her mother’s views on men, love, and snoring, since they couldn’t possibly mean anything to herself and Quinn. Not at all, she reassured herself. But her heart was pounding hard in her chest while her panicked brain reminded her this was temporary and her life was hours away in a small college town in Vermont.

A knock sounded from the other room, louder with each successive rapping noise. “Did you hear that?” she asked.

“Unfortunately, yeah.” Quinn got out of bed, but not before rolling her onto her back and treating her to a morning-after kiss that rocked her world and aroused her all over again. “Wait here.”

As if she had anywhere else to go, at least for the moment. “I’ll just call my parents back while you get the door,” she said.

He has risen naked, then pulled on a pair of jeans he’d tossed over a chair, zipped them but ignored the button. The result was disheveled and sexy, and would convey a message to whoever was at the door that they’d interrupted and were unwelcome.

She bit the inside of her cheek as he walked out of the room, pulling the door shut behind him. Left alone in his bed, she had to admit she liked being the bad girl who’d spent the night in Quinn’s bed, then had to sneak her way home in the morning wearing last night’s wrinkled clothes. Maybe she was making up for lost time, because Lord knew she’d never been a bad girl before. That had been Zoe’s job.

Zoe. She’d trusted Quinn’s word that Zoe was safe and her parents’ phone call had nothing to do with her missing twin. Trusted him in favor of a night of blissful lovemaking in his bed. Blissful sex, she corrected herself, but her rapid pulse and full heart didn’t back up her claim.

She scooted to the bottom of the bed and reached to the floor for her bag. She dialed home but nobody answered, meaning they were either ignoring call-waiting or Spank had pulled the answering machine cords out of the wall. Then again, it could be the workmen. Either way, if her mother had needed her that badly, all she’d have to do was call the hotel and ask for Quinn’s room. Certain everything at home was fine, she rose and found a large T-shirt of Quinn’s that she pulled over her head, and then started for the bathroom.