Six
His mouth came down on hers and the first taste of her sent Garrett over the edge. The kiss they’d shared at Disneyland had haunted him until he had damn near convinced himself that no kiss could be as good as he remembered it.
He was wrong.
It was better.
He knew the contours of her mouth now, how her body folded into him, the sigh of her breath on his cheek. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself more tightly to him. Her hands swept up into his hair, and each touch of her fingers was like lightning through his bloodstream.
He parted her lips with his tongue and she met him eagerly, stroking, tasting, exploring. Mouths fused, breaths mingling, hearts hammering in time, they came together with a desperate need that charged the air around them.
Garrett set his hands at her h*ps and lifted her up, shifting her around until she was straddling him, her pelvis pressed to his hard, aching groin. It wasn’t enough, but it was a start. She groaned into his mouth as his h*ps arched up against her.
Alex moved with him, rocking her body against his, as demanding as he felt. She slanted her head, giving as well as taking, tangling her tongue with his, losing herself in the heat that seemed to be searing both of them.
His hands swept up, beneath the hem of that red shirt that had been making him crazy all morning. He skimmed his fingers across her skin until he could cup her lace-covered br**sts in his palms. Then he swept his thumb back and forth across her erect ni**les until she was twisting and writhing against him, grinding her h*ps against his.
Her kiss grew hungrier, more desperate.
He knew the feeling.
Her moans enflamed him. Her touch, the scrape of her short, neat fingernails over the back of his neck, felt like accelerant thrown onto a bonfire. He was being engulfed and he welcomed it.
It was as if everything in his life had come down to this moment with her. As if his hands had always ached for the touch of her. His body hard and ready, all he wanted was to peel her out of her white slacks and panties and bury himself inside her.
The ocean air slid around them like a cool caress, keeping the heat at bay and adding new sensations to the mix. Hair rippled, clothing was tugged as if even nature wanted them together in the most basic way.
“You’re killin’ me,” he muttered, tearing his mouth from hers long enough to drag in a deep breath of the salt-stained air.
“No,” she said with a sigh and a grin as she licked her lips. “Not interested in killing you at all, Garrett.”
He returned that smile, and slowly lifted the hem of her shirt, baring her abdomen and more to his gaze. When her lace-covered br**sts were revealed, he reached behind her, unhooked her bra with a flick of his fingers then lifted the lacy cups for his first good look at her br**sts.
Round and full, with dark pink, pebbled ni**les, they made his mouth water. He lifted his gaze to hers and saw passion glazing her eyes. She licked her bottom lip, drew a shallow breath and leaned into him.
“Taste me,” she whispered.
And it would have taken a stronger man than Garrett to turn down that offer. He bent his head and took first one nipple, then the other into his mouth. Moving back and forth between them, he licked and nibbled at her sensitive skin until she was a jangle of need, practically vibrating against him.
Finally, he suckled at her left breast while tugging at the nipple of her right with his fingers. His tongue traced damp circles around her areola and his mouth worked at her, sucking and pulling, drawing as much of her as he could into him.
“Garrett, yes,” she whispered, holding his head to her, as if afraid he might stop.
But he had no intention of stopping. Now that they had crossed the barrier keeping them apart, nothing would keep him from having her completely.
“That feels so good.” She was breathless, her body moving of its own accord, looking for the release she needed.
And as she moved on him, his groin tightened to the point of real pain and he wouldn’t change anything. He dropped one hand to the juncture of her thighs and through the material of her white slacks, he felt her heat. Felt the dampness gathering there at her core.
He rubbed her, pressing hard against the nub of sensation he knew would be aching as he ached. She groaned again, louder this time, and moved restlessly on him. Dropping her hands to the snap and zipper, she undid them, giving him a view of the pale, ivory lace panties she wore before going up on her knees on the bench seat.
Garrett released her nipple, looked up into her eyes and lost himself in their passion-filled depths. He lifted one hand and deliberately, slowly dipped his fingers beneath the elastic band of her panties. She took a breath, let her head fall back and tensed, waiting for his first touch.
She looked like a pagan goddess.
Breasts bared to the sun, face lifted to the sky, hair flying in the wind and her center, open and waiting. He was rocked right down to his soul. She was magnificent. And the need clamoring inside him whipped into a churning frenzy.
He cupped her heat with his palm and was rewarded by a soft sigh of pleasure that slid from her elegant throat. Garrett’s hand moved lower, his fingers reaching. She moved with him, giving him easier access. Her hands dropped to his shoulders to steady herself and when his thumb stroked over that one bud of passion, she jolted and gasped in a breath.
“Garrett…Garrett…” It was both plea and temptation.
He watched her, gaze fixed on her expressive face as he dipped first one finger, then two, inside her damp heat. He worked her body, making her rock and twist as she climbed that ladder of need to the cl**ax that was waiting for her. His thumb moved over that nub again and again until she was practically whimpering. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, her sighs came fast and furious.
He stroked her, inside and out, until her body was bowed with building tension, until she was so blindly wrapped up in her own need, he, too, felt the gathering storm. When the first shocking jolt of release hit her, Garrett steadied her with one hand while with the other he pushed her higher, and higher, demanding more, always more.
“I can’t,” she whispered brokenly. “No more…”
“There’s always more,” he promised and then delivered—another orgasm, crashing down on her right after the first.
She wobbled on unsteady knees and finally dropped to his lap. Only then did she open her eyes and look into his. Only then did she lean forward and kiss him with a long, slow passion that left him as breathless as she felt.
Never before had he taken so much pleasure from his partner’s cl**ax. Never before had he been willing to put his own needs on hold for the simple joy of watching a woman shatter in his arms.