She wriggled under him. The slick skin of their bellies, pressed together, or her inner thighs where they were wrapped around his hips, reminded him of the slick pressure surrounding his cock. Then she twisted her wrists in his grip, and he got it. He let go of her wrists, only to find her adjusting her arms so she could wind her fingers through his and hold on tight.
“I think, if you just…” she said, a calculating, distant look in her eyes as she circled her hips under him.
He’d spent too much time in the SEALs to waste words when actions shouted. He curved over her, pulled out, and buried himself to the hilt inside her, a hot, gliding stroke that lit him up from the inside out. Her words splintered into a soft gasp that deepened into a moan when he did it again, the angle of his hips canted to find the hot spot inside her.
“If I just what?” he whispered. “Just did this?”
He did it again, finding the perfect rhythm and depth to drive her wild without moving things along too quickly. Her toes curled against his flanks, and before long, a deep rosy flush bloomed on her face and spread down her throat. He used every trick he knew to hold himself back, tightening the muscles around his cock, counting backward in Pashtun, because he didn’t just want to make her come. He wanted to make her come apart. So he gave her what he knew she needed, a steady rhythm gliding over her hot spot again and again, slow, maddening, the promise of getting her mind blown if she’d just take it, take him.
He could feel it coming. Her back arched, her face tightened, a low groan vibrating in her throat. When the crest crashed down, he yanked his hand free of hers and clapped his hand over her mouth, drove into her twice more, and let the surf take them both.
The next thing he heard was an indistinct sound from Rose. “Huh?” he said, not the most coherent statement he’d ever made.
“Off,” Rose said, and added a shove to his ribs. “No endorphins. Too heavy. Can’t breathe.”
He shifted to his side, disengaging their bodies, but keeping a hand on her hip. She took a deep inhale, the exhale shuddering as it left her body, then clumsily pushed her T-shirt and bra down. He helped, gently checking her over as he did. She seemed okay, breathing slowly, eyes closed, when he got up to ditch the condom. By the time he’d finished and hitched his pants up, she was on her feet, pulling on her leggings. “I should go,” she said when he leaned against the bathroom doorframe. “If I stay any longer I’ll fall asleep. I don’t want Grannie to wake up alone in a strange place.”
“Sure,” he said, telling himself he should feel relieved by her matter-of-fact attitude. Two consenting adults, one vacation fling. Watching her pull her shirt over her head, then gather her hair into a loose ponytail, he’d think she did this all the time, except she was so tight and hot and wild under him, like she never let herself go.
She looked at the clock and blew out her breath. “What time are we leaving tomorrow?”
“Five thirty,” he said, adjusting to civilian time.
“I should get up earlier, check in on things before we leave.”
“Rose,” he said firmly, “get some sleep. I’ve got this.”
“Got what?”
“Whatever might come up. I’ve got it. Trust me.”
Clutching her sweater to her chest, she looked at him like she’d never relied on another person in her entire life. Her pupils were blown wide, her skin flushed and gleaming. “Okay,” she said faintly. “I’ll just … okay. Thanks for … thanks. That was way better than second best.”
When she’d left, he inhaled deeply. The room smelled faintly of her, not perfume, not hair spray, but the rich, musky scent of her skin, of sex. For the first time in a long time, he fell asleep with the smell of a woman in his nose.
Chapter Three
“The bathroom’s all yours, Rose,” Grannie said.
Rose looked up from the email she was sending to Hua Li, her most trusted employee. If anyone could sweet talk I.T. into expediting her request to get her international service ASAP, it was Hua. They’d been warned that hot air balloon rides at the beginning of the season could be very cold, so Grannie was bundled up in lightweight travel pants, a button-down shirt, and a thick sweater.
“Are you wearing your long underwear?” Rose asked.
“Yes, and wool socks,” Grannie said, zipping her toiletries bag into her suitcase. She studied Rose long enough for a flush to creep into Rose’s cheeks.
“What?” she said with a smile. “I just need a few minutes and I’ll be ready—”