As the therapist nodded like a bobblehead doll, all Devina could think of was, God, she’d rather go back to Target.
Chapter Thirty-one
“It’s after hours. The door’s locked.”
As Cait jogged the boathouse’s combination lock, the disappointment she was feeling was obvious in her voice. But come on, of course the facility was still going to be mostly off-limits in late April.
“Here.” Duke stepped into the light thrown by the fixture overhead. “Let me take a look at it.”
“It’s totally locked.”
Damn it. Where could they go now? There was nothing else around, really—not unless they wanted to be picked up on public-obscenity charges. It looked like they were going to have to go back and get their cars—
Click. Creak.
Hello, wide-open.
Duke motioned the way in gallantly.
“How did you…”
“I work for the city during the day. This is an officially owned Caldwell property, and gee, what do you know, I have the master combination to all the locks.”
“You are incredible.”
Those lids dropped low again. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”
In an instant, Cait was totally aroused, and as she brushed past him, she deliberately let her shoulder move across his chest. He hadn’t bothered to bring a coat, and his invincibility with the weather made her wonder if he couldn’t lift cars, stop bullets with his teeth, leap buildings in a—
Okay, now she was being ridiculous.
Inside, it was dark as night, the illumination from the lights along the roofline no match for the grime-covered windows. The only thing that registered was the sound of the water clapping under the cribs—a good reminder to watch where you were going so you didn’t fall in—
“Ouch!”
Or run into something.
“Are you okay?” he said right behind her.
“Yes, I hit a…”
Well, she wasn’t too sure what the thing was, but hard-as-a-rock certainly covered it. Reaching out, she found the sharp vertical edge that had caught her right in the shin, and then a long, widening rail—ah, yes, a canoe, she thought as she felt around.
“Come here,” Duke growled, spinning her around. “You can hang on to me.”
Cait needed no other invitation. She went right against his powerful body, arms rising up so she could grab the back of his neck and bring his mouth to hers. Their lips met in a clash of flesh, the sexual need exploding between them, everything going even more desperate than it had the night before: She was only dimly aware of him kicking the door shut. And after that, nothing mattered but what they were doing.
Duke’s hands were rough as they ripped the bottom of her shirt free from her skirt, and then his broad palms were on her br**sts.
“Oh, yeah, that’s what I want,” he bit out before melding his lips to her own again.
The kissing was utterly delicious, the slide of velvet on velvet as intoxicating as the way he was caressing her—but he broke up the dueling of their tongues and pulled back all too soon. Fortunately, the relocation of that mouth of his was so not a problem, considering where he went next.
Duke beelined for what he had bared, and as warm, wet suction found her nipple, Cait closed her eyes and went limp in his powerful grip. As he licked and teased at her, his strong arms gathered her up off the dock, and held her aloft.
Unlike her, he knew exactly where to go: A moment later, she was laid down on a soft pile of boat cushions.
“This okay?” he asked.
“Lay me on asphalt, concrete, wherever. Just come with me.”
“Oh, I will. You can bet your life on that one.”
His mouth was back on hers a split second later, his tongue entering her mouth, penetrating her as one of his knees pushed in between her legs and then his hips thrust against her—he was utterly erect, his arousal pushing into her core, the barriers of their clothes frustrating to the point of pain.
As she dug her nails into his upper arms, her scrambled brain incapable of figuring out zippers and button flies, she was out of her mind and totally aware at the same time: He tasted of fresh coffee, and smelled of some kind of woodsy cologne, and as she clawed at one of his shoulders, his body was like a steel cable.
Just as she had remembered.
As he shoved her jacket aside and pushed up her shirt even further, his pelvis surged against her, finding a rhythm that would be oh, so much more effective if someone, anyone just got his pants down to his thighs. Taking the initiative, she shifted her hands downward, her only clear thought that she’d rip things in half if she had to—
Duke positively purred as she rubbed against his arousal, her hands sloppy as she popped the first of what proved to be, yup, just her luck, a button fly.
“I have what we need,” he grunted as he pushed himself off of her to help.
Yes, you certainly do, she thought as he shucked what covered him and exposed his—
She nearly laughed. So much for that whole cold-shrinks thing.
And then she was all business. She gripped his girth—
“Oh … fucking hell, I need this.”
His words devolved into nothing but guttural syllables as she stroked up and down his shaft. He even fell against her, as if his arms had lost their strength.
“Wait, wait.” He grabbed her hand and squeezed, stilling her. “I’m going to come if you keep that up.”
“I thought that was the point.” As her eyes had adjusted, she could make out part of his harsh face in the dimness. “Or have I misread this?”
Wow, she actually sounded kind of tantalizing. Go her.
And clearly, it worked—he kissed her hard, and then groaned, “Inside of you. I want you to feel me orgasm.”
Rearing up over her, he reached into his back pocket and took out a foil square. Biting through the wrapper, just as he had the night before, he rolled the condom onto himself as she swept off her panties.
She all but yanked him back down.
This time, he was the one who joined them, the blunt head of his erection pushing into her, guided by his steady hand—and then there was a thrust, a deep one. But there was no pain. Her body was more than ready—all she felt was that incredible stretching and sense of fullness.
As Duke dropped his head into her neck, she smoothed down to the small of his back and arched under him so that they were linked even more fully. With perfect synchronicity, they began to move together, the surging penetrations increasing in power and tempo.
No way to kiss. Too fast and furious.