Finally, he slumped back into the chair and pulled her close.
He kissed her hair and closed his eyes. “You were supposed to scream my name, but otherwise that was perfect.”
She’d forgotten everything, including his name.
Who he was, why she was here…
He was still fully dressed while she was totally, totally—it didn’t get more bare-assed than this—naked. She was wrapped tight in his arms, and while she hated to admit it—because this was in no way part of the plan—it felt right. More right than anything she could remember, and for some reason that made her want to cry. And she never cried. As a child, she’d learned early on to keep everything locked in tight. Now here she was draped all over a badass bad boy, and she had the most almighty urge to bawl her eyes out. Maybe she should go ahead. It might frighten him off and that was a good thing, because however right this felt, it was wrong. She didn’t fall into bed with strangers.
Except this one.
Twice now.
And both times it was out of this world, orgasmic.
At least he’d used a condom tonight. Obviously he’d gotten more responsible with age. Or maybe fed up with paying for unplanned offspring.
He was still deep inside her. She wriggled and a wave of residual pleasure rippled through her. The zipper of his pants was chaffing against her inner thigh and she shifted a little. Time to make a move. Go back to real life and work out how to put things back on track. Again.
Was he asleep? She made to pull away, and his hands tightened on her hips, holding her in place.
“Don’t move,” he murmured without opening his eyes. “Not yet.”
“Why? Won’t the governor be back soon?”
He chuckled, but didn’t release her, and she straightened her spine so she could look at him. His hair had come loose; she had a vague memory of digging her fingers into it while his mouth had been between her legs. Oh God, his mouth had felt so good. She’d never relaxed enough with any other man to allow him to do that, had always felt too self-conscious to enjoy the act. But she hadn’t felt self-conscious with Logan; he’d driven everything but the feel of his lips and tongue from her mind. When he’d sucked her into his mouth, she’d exploded.
“Stop wriggling,” he muttered.
She stopped. She didn’t want to disturb him, she wanted to look at him some more. She might never get another chance. If she got the plan back on track, this wouldn’t happen again. He was truly stunning—heavy-lidded eyes, with thick black lashes that lay across his high cheekbones, a straight nose, a long jaw, shadowed with stubble, and the most beautiful mouth she had ever seen, the upper lip curved, the lower full.
“You can kiss me if you want, sergeant.”
“No, thank you.”
“I can feel you staring.”
His eyes flicked open, and he held her gaze as his hand slid up to curve under the hair at the back of her head. Slowly, he drew her down, his lips parting beneath hers, his tongue pushing inside. He kissed her for long minutes, deep wet kisses that she felt all the way down to her toes. He finally drew back, leaving her shaken to the core. How could a stranger make her feel so good? So right?
She needed to get out of there, but before she could do anything he wrapped his arms around her and got to his feet, cradling her against his chest. She was by no means small, but he carried her with ease, kicking the door open and heading up the wide staircase, into a bedroom and through to the huge bathroom beyond.
As he set her down on her feet, she opened her mouth to tell him she was leaving, but before she could get the words out he started unbuttoning his shirt. It occurred to her that he’d seen her naked. Wasn’t turnabout fair? And she could revisit the whole now-or-never argument, because obviously she was never doing this again. So if she was going to see him naked—and she really wanted to—this was her only chance.
He shrugged out of the shirt, and she stared at his broad chest with the smooth swell of muscle. His skin was olive and perfect. The black ink of his tattoos snaked around from his back, curling over the lean ridges of muscle on his stomach. But it wasn’t the tattoos that held her attention but rather the glint of silver at his nipple.
He glanced down and grinned. “I had a dare with my brother Declan. He’s such an uptight bastard. He said he would if I would. So we did, and, shit, it hurt like hell.”
Then his hands moved to his waist. He kicked off his boots and pushed the leather pants down over his lean hips, turned away to toss the condom into the bin before coming back to her.
He was already semi-hard, and as she stared, his shaft twitched and filled with blood, jerked to attention until it stood upright against his flat belly. Her mouth suddenly dry, she swallowed and licked her lips.