Closer, she thought, focused entirely on the movements between her legs, on the pressure building, the insistent hammering of her heart. Closer. She could see it, right there. Just out of reach. So close…
She parted her legs a little more and leaned back into him, at the same time pulsing her hips toward his hand. And then she was coming, her release rippling through her, claiming her, making her gasp and cry out.
“Like that,” he breathed. “Just like that.”
She shuddered once as the last of her satisfaction faded. But she didn’t relax and enjoy the moment. Instead she sat up, then turned to face him.
He was grinning.
“You think you’re redeemed,” she said, still flushed from her orgasm.
“I know I am.”
“We’ll see about that.”
She knelt over him, then eased herself onto his arousal. The angle was different from the last time they’d done this, but he went in just as deep. He filled her, stretching her, making her groan.
She watched his eyes dilate, felt his breath catch. Then he drew her closer and kissed her, his tongue mimicking the movements of their lovemaking.
She settled her hands on the back of the tub, bracing herself so she could continue to move up and down. Want filled her again, this time more powerful than before. She wanted, needed and was determined to have. She lost herself in the deepness of their kiss, the pushing, filling satisfaction of him inside of her. When he moved his hands to her br**sts and touched her there as well, she didn’t know how long she could hold out.
She wanted more, she thought desperately, nipping at his lips before pushing her tongue into his mouth. This time she wanted all of it. She went faster, deeper, the water sloshing over the edge of the tub.
More, she thought frantically, her breath coming in gasps. Up and down, each thrust finding that one place inside, rubbing it, drawing her closer.
Tucker hissed, dropping his hands to her hips. “You’re killing me,” he said, his voice strangled.
Their eyes locked. He was close. She could see it and feel it. But he was doing his best to hang on.
“Just a second more,” she begged, still moving up and down, faster and faster until—
Her release ripped through her like a tornado. She rode him, taking everything he had, all while it seemed that she’d been flung into the universe and swirled around and around. She was vaguely aware of him coming, of his hold on her tightening, then she was looking at him again. Exposing all of herself and staring into the welcoming lightness of Tucker’s soul.
LATER, AFTER THEY’D USED TOWELS to clean up the water that had poured over the side of the tub and retreated to her bedroom with wine and cupcakes, they sat next to each other on her bed.
Nevada was doing her best to act normal, as if she became some kind of sex animal all the time and it was no big deal. In truth she felt a little embarrassed by her unrestrained behavior. As if she should explain or apologize. In her head, she knew neither act was required, but for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out what she was supposed to say.
Tucker handed her a chocolate cupcake, then pulled it back at the last second.
“You risk your life by playing games with a cupcake,” she told him.
Instead of smiling, he became more serious, his dark eyes staring into hers.
“You are unexpected.”
Before she could react to the touching words, he kissed her. A light kiss that seemed to say something more. Something she couldn’t quite decipher.
He handed her the cupcake, then poured more wine into their glasses.
“I’m staying the night.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Are you asking or telling?”
“Telling.”
“Figures.”
But she wasn’t complaining, she thought, as they shifted to lean against the headboard. Somehow this all felt right.
He reached for the remote and clicked on the TV. “Because I’m such a swell guy, I’ll let you pick.”
She thought about torturing him with home shopping, but decided the state of her still quivery body deserved a reward.
“The USC game should still be on,” she told him.
He turned to her and smiled. “The perfect woman.”
“Tell me about it.”
“I DIDN’T KNOW there were this many bridal magazines,” Nevada murmured, fingering the stack on the coffee table.
“Talk about a fascinating industry,” Montana said. “I’ve decided that planning a wedding in four months is going to be a whole lot easier than taking the year all the experts suggest. There’s a lot less time to agonize over every decision.”
They were in their mother’s family room, with Dakota sprawled on the sofa, Nevada and Montana on the floor and their mother in the wing chair.
“There are still choices to be made,” Denise announced. “You two need to pick out your dresses. With the location reserved, that’s the next priority.”
Dakota patted her relatively tiny bump. “I don’t know how huge I’m going to be. Maybe I should wait until after the baby is born. Isn’t being pregnant at my own wedding a little tacky?”