Jack leaned one shoulder against the big fireplace and smiled, watching Lacey in his kitchen as she poured hot water into the mugs of chocolate mix. He’d stood like this before. In her kitchen a few nights ago. Then she’d been petrified and nervous. Now she had a warm smile as she looked up at him and stirred the chocolate. He stepped around behind her, slid his arms around her stomach, and tugged her back to him.
She’d relaxed as they entered the cabin. All the tension during the drive up had melted away after he’d kissed her. He wasn’t getting the uncertain vibes that’d hung about her for several days. She had come to some sort of decision about him.
He hoped it was the same one he’d made days ago.
“That smells great.” He wasn’t talking about the chocolate.
Lacey lifted a mug and took a sniff. “I know. I can’t be in this cabin during a snowfall without some hot chocolate. It puts me in the right mood.”
“Good.” He nuzzled her hair and felt her relax into him. The sun had set and he watched large snowflakes blow against the kitchen windows. The smell of the fire was drifting through the big room. He flipped off a switch in the kitchen and the cabin fell into a lovely warm light from the flames. She shivered.
“Are you cold?” He wrapped more of his body around her.
“No. Just...a little on edge.” She turned her head to look at him and he spotted the lines of tension across her forehead. He kissed them away, lingering on the silk of her skin.
“You’re safe here. There’s no way he can find you. No one can get up our road without a four-wheel drive and night vision goggles.” The cabin road was a winding, twisting unmarked dirt road that even he wouldn’t attempt to drive in the dark.
She exhaled and nodded. “It’s just that I worry...”
He cut her off. “No more worrying or thinking tonight.” He didn’t let her answer as he covered her lips and turned her to face him. “It’s just you and me. And I want to make love with you right now. More than anything I’ve ever wanted.” His chest tightened as he spoke; it was the truth. He felt her soften against him with a small sound.
He took the hot chocolate out of her hand and boosted her onto the countertop, stepping inside her thighs and pulling her tight against his stomach all while keeping the kiss. Her hands moved up to his neck, lightly stroking a clever spot behind his ear that pumped lightning into his spine.
He pulled back from her mouth, gently framing her jaw with his hands, and ran a thumb across her damp lips. His breath hissed in as she took his thumb between her teeth and touched her tongue to the tip. Her pupils dilated, the flames from the fireplace reflecting back at him. God, she was lovely. She brought out something wild in him. It made him want to toss her on her back, rip off her jeans and take her right here on the kitchen floor. His heart sped up and he lifted a hand to touch the soft hair by her ear. He slowed his strokes, wanted to revel in every long second, imprint the sensations in his memory.
He kissed her again, letting his hands slide through her hair. The rush of sleekness tormented the sensitive skin between each finger. The matching silk of her tongue teased his mouth and he pushed deeper into her. His hand slid to the small of her back and under her sweater, down below the low waist of her jeans. His fingers crossed a band of stretchy lace to the smooth skin of her bottom. A thong. His groin surged. He slid his hand as far down as he could into her jeans and cupped her firm cheek, pulling her closer. She caught her breath against his mouth with a small moan and he nearly exploded.
Christ. Two minutes with the woman and he was nearly shooting off like a teenager.
He broke the kiss and rested his forehead to hers; his eyes closed and he breathed slowly. His body screamed for him to rush, but his mind said wait. Since when did he listen to his brain in the middle of temptation?
Being with her was different.
“Jack?” She was hesitant, questioning.
Her voice throaty. He kept his eyes shut but nodded. His forehead still connected with hers.
“Give me a second.”
She brought her hands down and lifted his shirt. “I want to see you.” The shirt pulled higher. “I want to touch you.” There was a bit of brazenness in her low words. “This morning I only got to look. Now I want to touch.” She leaned to touch her tongue to his earlobe as her nails ran across his nipples. Icy hot bolts of sensation shot down below his stomach.
Apparently she didn’t understand what “Give me a second” meant to a man. He clenched his teeth and ripped the shirt over his head. “I wouldn’t have complained if you’d touched.” He dropped his shirt on the floor, gave her a fast deep kiss, and pulled her sweater off. “No one was stopping you,” he whispered. Her bra was simple and smooth. Her breasts were just right. Not big. Just utterly enticing. He lifted one with his hand and felt her nipple tighten. Her chin dropped a notch and she closed her eyes, arching her back, pushing into his touch.
She was his, giving him permission to do as he pleased, responding hotly to his simple touch. She’d handed him total power.
He unclasped the bra hooks, sliding the straps down her arms and stepping back the slightest bit to look at her in the flickering light. Exquisite. He leaned over and lifted a breast to his mouth and tasted the satin of her skin, catching a nipple between his teeth and scraping lightly. She gasped and leaned back on her hands.
Whom was he fooling? This woman had total power over him.
He kissed his way to the other breast and unbuttoned her jeans, his mind under attack by the memory of lace underneath. He straightened and she weakly protested as he left her breasts. He slid her hips forward off the counter, and she landed on unsteady legs, her sexy cowboy boots rapping the floor. He pushed her jeans down to midthigh and tossed her back up on the counter wearing just that thong. It was hot pink. Breathing hard, she curled her hands around the counter’s edge. He put two hands on her boots and slipped both off at once. Her jeans followed an instant later. Loving the surprise in her eyes, he stepped close to kiss her witless.
His mind was spinning. He couldn’t wait to get inside this woman and drive her wild.
Lacey gasped as her jeans hit the floor. It’d happened so fast. One minute he had the slowest, most sensual hands she’s ever felt, and then the next minute he raced along like a NASCAR driver. She couldn’t catch her breath; he kept knocking her off guard. He stepped close to kiss her with a possessive male look that triggered a hot fervor in her groin. She moved against him and grew wet, slick. Why’d he leave her panties in the way?
She unsnapped the top of his jeans, but he elbowed her arms out of reach and kissed her with a fierceness that curled her toes. His mouth was hot and commanding, taking everything she had. She wanted to beat on his back with her fists to make him let her touch him, but she settled for touching his shoulders, chest and biceps. Those cut muscles she’d admired last night were as hard as iron. He had the body of an athlete. Muscle, speed, and length. She outlined his pecs, running her fingers through the soft hair on his chest. His mouth moved up her cheek to her eyelids and back to her ear. As he traced the arc of her ear with a hot wet tongue, his hand slid between her thighs and firmly brushed a spot through her panties that made her spine melt. Then he did it again, and she clutched at his shoulders, digging her nails into his deltoids and closing her eyes. It was a double assault. Her ear and her clit.
She wanted this man. It didn’t matter about his past or hers. She’d wanted him from the beginning, but never dreamed she would end up in a snow-covered cabin, making love to him by firelight.
“Ohhh. Jack. I need...you need to let me...” He touched her again and she lost her train of thought. Jeans. She needed his jeans off now. Now. She reached for his fly again and yanked before he could stop her, flipping all the snaps open at once. He pushed her back, arching her over his arm, and attacked a breast with his teeth and tongue. She squirmed under the wild onslaught of sensation. He pushed aside the crotch of her panties and ran two fingers through her folds. He slid his fingers up and down, spreading her wetness, and she pushed against his hand, needing more than the delicious friction. She was unbearably aroused, her skin ultrasensitive. Her stomach convulsed. She needed him to do more than touch her.
“Please. Jack. You’ve got to...please.”
“Please what?”
“What?” Her brain was low on oxygen.
“Ask me again.” His hot, wet mouth swept to her other breast and bit gently.
“Please. I need. You. Now!” She ended on a gasp as two of those fingers slid home and stroked her from the inside. This wasn’t going to take any time at all; she was so close. A talented thumb rubbed at her clit as he stroked her inside and she squeezed her inner muscles tight, sending herself over. Flashes of light danced across the back of her eyelids and she strained her head back in pleasure. Her contractions milked his fingers as she rode the wave. He didn’t stop his movements and sent her flying again.
Jack carefully laid her limp form back on the counter and slipped off her panties as his head rested between her breasts. He could hear her heart pound and her lungs grab short gasps of air. Her erotic slickness still pulsated around his other hand as her fingernails stroked his hair. He pressed a kiss against her stomach, dipping his tongue into her belly button, making her stomach quiver. He’d never been so fucking turned on in his life. He’d nearly lost it watching her come.
Taking his hands from her, he pried off his boots and pulled down his jeans she’d ripped open. Lacey pushed up to her elbows, watching him, her legs dangling limply off the counter. Her eyes locked on his hard length as it pointed toward home. She sat up and reached for him with an unsteady hand, and guided him to her. The feel of her fingers blew his arousal over the top and he clenched his stomach, fighting for control. Her fingers wrapped around him and squeezed firmly, running her palm over his head. He watched her, fascinated by the hungry look on her face. When her exploration was finished, she put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him closer, directing him into her. His hands took hold on her hips, bringing her to the absolute edge of the counter. He nudged just inside her entrance and stopped, fighting every hormone in his head that screamed for him to pound into her. He lifted her chin with a hand and softly kissed her mouth. She opened her lips with a quiet sigh, closed her eyes, and he entered with his tongue, exploring her mouth. He pulled his hips back, sliding out and she protested, pushing against him. He slid in again, just the littlest bit, feeling her stretch and shape herself to him. He took a deep breath and exhaled.
“Lacey.” He wanted her eyes open. He wanted her to look at him.
Her lids slowly lifted. In the firelight her eyes were dark, their color unclear, but he could read her desire. It was the counterpart to his. With the sense of a fated moment, he clamped his palm on her bottom and slid home with one strong thrust. Her eyes widened and she gasped.
“Feel me. Feel me inside you.” She was hot, slick, and tight, and he didn’t ever want to leave. He fought his instinct to batter into her and held perfectly still, feeling her pulsate and squeeze around him. He would never forget the sensation. She pulled on his shoulders and shamelessly ground against him.
“Damn you, Jack. Move!” She wrapped her legs around his hips and squeezed, rocking her hips. She lifted her chin and pushed her neck against his lips, demanding his attention. He inhaled deeply, smelling her arousal and the delicious scent that was uniquely Lacey. He grazed her neck with his teeth. She continued to grind against him, small exclamations of frustration spilling from her mouth. He didn’t move as she tortured him. Pure bliss, pure torture. He didn’t want it to end.
It was time. He wrapped his arms tight around her and lifted her off the counter. She let out a cry of anger as he pulled out. He carried her into the great room where he’d created a nest with thick sleeping bags and down comforters. He kneeled and laid her back, brushing the waves of hair out of her face. The firelight caught her eyes, revealing her desperate need. He positioned his body above her and lowered his head, speaking against her eager mouth.
“Hang on, baby.”
She couldn’t see. She couldn’t hear. All her senses were focused on one spot in her body. Jack had finally let go and was fucking her like he’d waited a decade for release. She rocked against him and clutched his shoulders for the ride. The frantic friction was driving her higher. One second she felt waves of satisfaction and the next second her body screamed, aching to be filled. It was a rocking of emotion and sensation that was threatening to burst her heart. He tensed and increased his pace, shortening his thrusts as he reached between them and stroked her. She felt the quake start at her core. She squeezed him tight, heard him shout, and she tumbled over the crest, dragging him with her.
Lacey lay halfway on top of him, sated and exhausted on the cushion of comforters and sleeping bags. She traced a finger down his stomach, exploring his body, watching each muscle tense as she touched it. He was beautifully made. Solid muscle everywhere it counted. They relaxed in the silence, interrupted only by the occasional crackle of the fire. Her hand moved down his thigh and lingered over a thick knot in his skin. Curious, she pushed up and looked closer. It was an angry round scar.
“It was a bullet.” He had a hand under his head, propped against a pillow he stole from the couch, as he watched her explore. At his even tone, she turned to study his face.
“What happened?” She caught her breath as his face closed off and he reminded her of Alex. That vacant emptiness in his eyes. Jack didn’t want to talk about it. She moved up his body until she could kiss away the blank face that gave her chills. His silver eyes flickered with the firelight and she felt his heart speed up under her hand. She stayed silent and waited.
He told her a story that sent her own heart racing.
“You could have been killed.” She stared in shock.
“A lot of people could have been killed. Neither of us checked them for weapons. Stupid mistake.” Anger spat from his eyes.
She spoke slowly. “Is that when you left the department?”
Jack nodded. “I couldn’t do it anymore. I wanted to whip out my weapon every time I came in contact with a person. I was a mental wreck. I needed a job where I could control what went on around me. A cop’s job has too much uncertainty.” He paused. “I had to walk away. It got to the point where I couldn’t pick up a gun without getting physically ill. And I haven’t been able to touch one since.” He stared at the fire. “I couldn’t do the job. I thought I was going to hurt someone else.”
She sat up. “You didn’t hurt that woman! Her husband did.”
“I know.” She could tell from his face he was lying.
She touched his face, loving the feel of the sandpaper of his cheek. She bent down and breezed her lips across the stubble, the tickle stimulating a new arousal. “It wasn’t your fault. You could never hurt anybody. When I’m with you...I feel safe. You wouldn’t let anything hurt me.” She moved to his lips and he ran his hands up and down her back, kissing her deeply. “I trust you, Jack.” The words surprised her as she said them. “I trust very few people and you’ve become one of them.”
In a move that stole her breath, he flipped her onto her back and set upon her with his tongue and rough hands. Heat flared in her veins at his possessive handling. She reached out to touch his face. In his sad eyes she saw his desperate need to believe her as he moved between her legs and claimed her again.
Jack stretched his legs, pushing his feet out from under the down comforter toward the fire. The flames were gone and hot red coals warmed his toes. He needed to toss a few more logs on the fire. Lacey slept curled against him. Turning his face to press his nose into her soft waves, he inhaled deeply. He could smell her vanilla scent and something else. Her hair smelled like she’d been rolling around in bed with a man. But not just any man. Him.
He wallowed contentedly in the possessive surge that swam through his tired body. She’d said she trusted him, believed he could keep her safe. God damn it, he’d prove her right even if he had to lock her in the cabin for a month. His body hardened at the thought, erotic images dancing about his brain. He studied her profile in the wan light, wanting to wake her but also wanting to keep staring as she slept. This wasn’t the usual postcoital glow.
She’d sunk into his core and imprinted his heart.
He was hooked.