Fatal Burn (West Coast 2)

So determined.

And she wanted him.

He stared down at her, then kissed her again, his midnight blue gaze locked with hers as he jerked on the waistband of her jeans. The zipper gave way in an eager, expectant hiss.

She was breathing fast and hard, desire building, fires stoked. Both his hands forced their way between her skin and the denim, touching, probing, one set of fingers sliding down her abdomen beneath the thin barrier of her panties, the other hand lightly skimming her buttocks, making her wriggle.

“Ooh.” Heat oozed within her. “Ooh…oh, Travis,” she cried.

Still kissing her, he slid his finger into her cleft, into the moistness. She gasped, bucked up and he applied more pressure, widening her, making her ready. His other hand flattened over her buttocks, holding her in place as he stroked her, touching deep inside, causing her to gasp in the back of her throat. “Oh, God,” she cried, her fingers digging into his shoulders as he kept up his ministrations, his knee now separating her thighs, his hand still working its magic.

It was impossible to take a breath, to think of anything but that one pulsing, needy spot and the way he was touching her, salving her while at the same time she wanted more, so much more. Her heart was beating wildly, her blood pumping white-hot through her veins, her pulse skyrocketing. The more he touched her, the more she wanted, the more she writhed. Sweat soaked her skin and she felt that at any second she might explode. Hotter. Faster. Wilder. In a blinding instant she convulsed, crying out, clinging to him, her mind splintering.

Slowly Shannon exhaled her pent-up breath. She opened her eyes to stare into his before falling back onto the bed, drenched in sweat, her breath raspy, her blood tingling in her veins.

As her breathing slowed, she flung one arm over her forehead. “For the love of God,” she said, “for the love of God.” She glanced at him and smiled. “I think maybe you’ve done this before.”

He laughed then, his own breath uneven. “Maybe a time or two.”

“Yeah…I’ll bet. Wow.” She sighed. “Wow.”

He stretched out beside her, levering up on an elbow, a half-smile visible in the darkness. She wrapped one hand around his neck. “Come here, you,” she whispered. “Two can play at this game.”

“You think?”

“I know.”

“Then game on, darlin’,” he said, kissing her forehead. “Game on.”

She couldn’t resist. Bit her lower lip. Touching his cheek, she slowly dragged one finger down his jaw, then lower still along his neck, tracing an imaginary line. “Tell me if I do anything that bothers you,” she said, and he laughed again.

“Try.”

“Hmmm.” She slid her finger lower, down the hard muscles of his chest, along a washboard of abdominal muscles while following a fine, dark arrow of hair that dipped beneath his jeans. She hooked the finger over the waistband, feeling his abdomen retract, offering her further access.

“I think it’s your turn now,” she said, her breath fanning his chest as she stared up at him through the fringe of her lashes. He sucked in his breath as she tugged on his jeans, hearing the soft pop, pop, pop as the buttons gave way and his fly opened.

“Watch it, lady,” he warned, voice low. “You’re playing with fire.”

“You, too…” She pushed her hand into the opening of his fly, fingers scraping the muscles of his thighs. He rolled closer to her, his mouth pressing urgently against hers.

Kissing.

Touching.

Caressing.

Her hands moved naturally. Feeling his hardness, tracing the length of his shaft, her breathing irregular as she wrapped a hand around him and cupped his buttocks.

“Jesus,” he whispered.

She started working his jeans down his legs but he was impatient and with a groan rolled away, quickly kicking off his Levi’s. And then he was lying naked against her. Long, muscular thighs rubbing against her. He was hard, taut, his muscles gleaming with sweat, his manhood hard and ready.

Her breath caught in the back of her throat.

He stared down at her, leaned over and kissed first one breast, then the other. He suckled eagerly, hungrily, his mouth warm and wet, his teeth and tongue skimming over her flesh. Her mind closed to anything but the pure animal want that was driving her, the need to be close to him, the ache that only he could salve.

Love me, she thought, but didn’t say the words.