Need for her surged through him and he eyed the looming four-poster bed. Making love in the chair could be fun, and certainly worth considering for later. But he had something more intense and thorough in mind for their first time together.
Starting now.
Chapter 6
Oh my, she hadn’t expected to find this again.
She’d been lucky to enjoy that toe-tingling passion with Benjamin. She’d only expected—maybe—to discover friendship with another man, with the warm comfort of a shoulder to rest her head against.
Even with the sizzle of their morning kiss, the inferno now pulsing through her, the urgency that sent her hands grappling at Hank with frantic need surprised her. Even shocked her. Ginger arched her back, pressing her br**sts against his chest.
Her jeans itched against her oversensitized skin. She wanted him to peel them off her. She’d missed being undressed by a man.
More than that, she’d missed undressing a man.
She wanted to see Hank. Her frenzied fingers found their way to his belt buckle. Then, better yet, she uncovered his zipper. He eased her from his lap until they both stood by the roaring fire. He locked his arms low around her, a good thing since her feet weren’t all that steady under her as she worked at unfastening his pants.
The raspy glide of his zipper sliding down, down echoed through the room. Hank’s pupils widened in response a second before his lids lowered to half-mast and his hands went into action.
His thumbs tucked inside her jeans and began inching them off her body. She was more than happy to help with an extra shimmy and hop as his fingers skimmed over her legs. Ginger kicked the pants free and helped him out of his own until he loomed over her, tanned and toned.
Wow.
Just wow.
She’d seen him in swim trunks before and noticed he was a handsome guy, but goodness, had she been wearing blinders? Hank was all man. Hot, solid man. She wished she’d been ready for this sooner because she’d certainly been denying herself some major benefits in this friendship.
Ginger pointed one finger and planted it in the middle of his chest, pushing him backward one step at a time. “Bedtime, General.”
A smile dented one corner of Hank’s wind-weathered face. “Yes, ma’am.”
He let her topple him backwards onto the fluffy comforter. One slow step at a time, she advanced, kneeing up onto the bed until she straddled his waist. She brought some experience to this, and she intended to enjoy it to the most…
In case there wasn’t a repeat?
The scary notion threatened to chill her at a totally inopportune moment. She focused instead on warming herself with the heat radiating from Hank’s muscular body and the crackling fire. She extended her arms in a gesture for him to finish undressing her. As his hands swept up to find the center clasp between her breasts, she couldn’t help but think about when he’d touched her there for the first time while fastening the listening device. Her world, her senses, had changed forever in that instant.
Another thought slithered through as she wondered how much more her world would change as they took these touches deeper, to the most intimate of caresses, by making love.
He rolled to his side, stroking her face before reaching off the bed to where his jeans had fallen when he’d kicked them free. “I don’t want to break the mood, but I planned, too. During our shopping, I picked up…” His hand came back with a condom.
“Thank goodness you thought of it because yes, there’s still the possibility, and heaven forbid I should be an unwed pregnant senator.” Yet she’d almost leapt into bed without protection.
Then he robbed her of the ability to think again with the stroke of his hands over bare flesh, his mouth to her breasts. And no way was she missing out on the opportunity to savor every inch of his muscular body, his chest, his legs, the hard hot length of him in her hand.
They weren’t inexperienced youths. She knew what she wanted, what she needed and she didn’t hesitate to show him. Thank goodness he had the smart sense and a strong enough ego to growl in appreciation.
She was a lucky woman tonight.
He tucked her underneath him and she hooked her arms around his shoulders, gliding a foot along the length of one of his legs. She couldn’t stop the purr of pleasure over the warm weight of him settling atop her, the unmistakable pressure of his arousal ready, so near. He smiled, and she held that image in her mind as her eyes drifted closed at the muscle-melting sensation of him sliding inside her.
She wanted to capture each moment of this into her memory but thoughts jumbled with each bold stroke of his body into hers. Somewhere in her scrambled mind, she realized that instincts were taking over. Her legs wrapped around his h*ps to hold on, tipping her h*ps for more, wonderful more.
She lost herself in the friction of sweat-slickened skin against skin. Touching. Tasting. Mumbled encouragement and appreciation and moans. Somehow in a distant part of her brain she wondered if their longtime friendship had brought a synchronicity of instinctive knowledge to their coupling, because this went beyond right.
With the building swell inside her, she feared it would end too quickly, yet he seemed to sense her frustration and slowed. Hank rolled to his back, shifting her on top, taking her to the edge again only to stop short. Time and time again, he teased her until she no longer worried about finishing fast at all.
“Enough.” She gripped, raked at his back with her nails.