Close Enough to Touch (Jackson Hole 1)

“Yes,” she urged as he filled her. “God, yes. Cole—” Her words died on a gasp as he surged deep. He took her slow and deep and hard. He held her down, watching her face as her eyes closed and her lips parted and the breath rushed from her throat. She gasped with each thrust, panting as he took her faster.

When he needed to feel her hands on him, he let her wrists go, grunting when she grabbed his ass and dug her nails in. “Yes,” she urged. “Yes, yes.”

He wanted to come right then. His body screamed with it. But he needed her to come. Needed it like air. Needed to feel her jerk beneath him. Needed to hear her scream. She hated to give him anything, which only made it sweeter when he finally felt her go taut beneath him.

“God. Oh, God. Cole. I… Ah!” She screamed then, her pussy squeezing him as she dragged her nails up his back.

“Ah, fuck,” he breathed as the pain twisted around his pleasure and sank him deep into his own orgasm. He thrust hard, over and over. By the time he came back to himself, all he could hear was Grace panting into his ear. He smiled weakly and rose up to his elbows to kiss her.

“I’m sorry,” she said after a deep breath. “Did I hurt

you?”

“Yes. Did I hurt you?”

“No.”

“Good.” He kissed her nose and rolled off, sinking into his mattress as if it were made of down instead of cheap springs and foam. His back burned. “I’m worried you’re going to fuck me to death one of these nights.”

“I might,” she purred, a smile in her voice.

“Good,” he said again. He looked over to find her lying there, smiling, her eyes closed and her face peaceful. He’d thought he might never move again, but he found the will to turn to his side and kiss her jaw. “You’re so beautiful.”

She opened one eye, then closed it again. “Nice try. You already told me I wasn’t.”

“I was wrong,” he murmured, breathing in the scent of her warm skin. “Totally, utterly wrong.”

“Spoken like a man who just had an amazing orgasm.”

“Damn straight.” He got up to go to the bathroom to clean up, then shucked his jeans before he got back into bed. When he felt the press of her whole naked body against his, Cole sighed and closed his eyes. Something about her relaxed him. The sex, obviously, but not just that. He felt peaceful with her, which made no sense. She was so tense and prickly and combative. Though not now. Right now, her body melted into his.

Her hand touched his hip. “Does it hurt?”

“Not at the moment.”

Her fingers traced the lines which had finally faded from red to a sick pink. “But usually?”

“It depends. Sometimes I don’t notice it. But at night, it aches like a bad tooth.”

“God, it must’ve hurt when it happened. I’ve only broken my hand. And a couple of toes.”

He lifted her hand to his mouth to kiss her knuckles. “Let me guess. A punch that landed badly? And, of course, kicking things that pissed you off?”

“No!” She jerked her hand away, but she was laughing. “Okay, maybe one of the toes had something to do with my bad temper. But the hand wasn’t my fault. I got knocked down at a club and reached out to catch myself. I’m not sure if it was the landing or the boot on my hand that broke it.”

“Nice club,” he murmured.

“I could tell you some stories.”

He put his hand to her waist, aware of the way her breath hitched a little. He propped his head up on his hand so he could watch her face as he spread his fingers over her skin. “But you won’t tell me, will you?”

“No,” she said, not a hint of tension in her voice, just honesty.

Sliding his fingers down over her hip, he covered half her tattoo with his hand, then pushed slowly back up over the stark shape of the black tree. The tips of its branches stretched up her ribs, coming to a stop just below her heart. His thumb brushed the bottom of her small breast.

“Will you tell me about the tattoo now?”

“Why would I?”