Too Hot to Handle (Jackson Hole 2)

“And you keep…teasing me.”

He was teasing her. He didn’t know why. But he did know he wasn’t usually like this. He kissed her one last time. “You’re cute when you laugh,” he said, which was true enough, but not the whole story. Her smile made him happy, but he couldn’t say that. Ever.

“Only when I laugh, huh?”

“Oh, also when you say my name and beg me to fuck you.”

“Jesus, Shane!” She shoved him hard and dragged the covers up over her head.

He laughed. Hard. And he only laughed harder when one of her fists emerged from the covers to punch his shoulder. But he finally took pity and lay down next to her, mostly because he was suddenly exhausted. He hadn’t come that hard in a very long time, if ever. And it had been much longer since he’d laughed that hard. He felt as if his muscles had melted into pools of warm liquid.

“Christ, Merry,” he breathed. “That was good.”

She was silent for a long moment, and he was beginning to worry she didn’t agree. But then he heard her draw a deep breath. “Was it good? It felt really good.”

He smiled at the ceiling. “I think that’s the only measure.”

“I’ve never…”

Those two words trailed over his skin as they disappeared into silence. He turned toward her, but in the dark room he couldn’t see anything more than a faint glimmer of her eyes in the shadow of the blankets.

“I’ve never come like that before.”

“Like what?”

“During sex like that. With you inside me. It was…” Her smile flashed white for a moment. “Nice.”

Shane grinned. He couldn’t help it. If he had more energy, he would have jumped up on the bed and hooted while he beat his chest. Thank God his exhaustion could masquerade as dignity.

“I’m glad,” he murmured. “Because it was pretty high up in great moments of my life.”

Merry laughed so hard she snorted, which gave him another thing to tease her about. But his amusement died when she snuggled close. Shane put his arm around her and pulled her head to his chest. And as her breath chased over his skin in gentle puffs, he didn’t feel like laughing at all. He just stared into the darkness and wondered what the hell he’d done.

* * *

MERRY SNUCK INTO Grace’s apartment, sure that dirty guilt was written all over her face. Her clothes probably looked normal, but she felt generally rumpled, and she was certain she could smell Shane on her skin.

God. She blushed at the very thought of his name, but the warmth kept traveling over her skin, falling from her face to her neck and her chest and all the way down to her thighs.

She’d been very thoroughly fucked, and she felt it in every inch of her body. There was no way she looked the same.

Luckily the apartment was empty. A glance at the clock revealed that only sixty minutes had passed since she’d left the bar. How was that possible? It had felt like hours. She shook her head in surprise but grabbed a pair of sweatpants and moved quickly to the bathroom. She needed to wash off the invisible depravity that covered her skin.

Yes, she thought to herself as she let the shower heat up. That was how she felt. Depraved. Dirty. Wonderful.

And still embarrassed. She couldn’t help it. Being naked like that, being exposed…it felt so vulnerable. She’d always been in awe of Grace, who used her body for pleasure whenever the urge struck. Merry could never be that brave. To let a man inside her and just accept that as her right. It felt scary. And she couldn’t tell if it was scarier that she hardly knew Shane or terrifying because she knew him at all.

She stepped beneath the hot water with a groan of relief.

Thank God she’d gone to the saloon. Thank God she’d had those two martinis, or she’d never have been able to let that happen.

She cringed at her own thought. That she had to let it happen. That she was barely an active participant. But right now she couldn’t make the semantics matter, because it had been fucking fabulous.

Merry looked around the shower as if someone else would be watching, then she took a deep breath, balled her hands into fists and danced on her tiptoes to a silent squeal of triumph.

“Ohmigod,” she panted, covering her open mouth with her hands to keep the water out. “Ohmigod.”

He’d been perfect. And big. And perfect. And he’d made her feel beautiful for a few minutes. He’d made her feel like she was the woman he wanted.