“There,” she said, pointing. And it required only that one husky word to throw him nearly to the edge.
He took the exit.
CHAPTER THIRTY
“I could have paid for the room.”
“No.” Harper had gotten a great deal of pleasure out of charging the bill on her credit card. It was fun, as if she were having an illicit affair with a slick race car driver.
All she’d thought about in the car was getting her hands on him. And his hands on her. The moment the door closed behind them, she fisted his shirt and pulled his head down to hers. Her blood was on the boil as she kissed him—deep, wet kisses that made them both desperate.
“Did you bring a condom?” She couldn’t believe herself—Miss Timid making demands. Taking charge. Better than that, feeling totally comfortable doing both those things.
He patted his back pocket. “Always prepared, just like a Boy Scout.”
“You—” She tapped his chest. “—were never a Boy Scout.” Grabbing his shirt again, she turned and dragged him to the bed. “You’re a road warrior.” A fire flared in his eyes, one that she knew had to match the fire in hers. “My road warrior.” With the flat of her hand on his chest, she pushed him down onto the mattress. “And I want you bad.”
The curtains were closed, the room dim, and his eyes were as dark as blue midnight. And hot.
“Not as bad as I need you, sweetheart.”
Harper slid out of her sandals and climbed onto his lap. With her thighs along his, she slid down hard against him. His hands on her butt, he hauled her even closer, until every ridge and bulge enticed her through their jeans.
God, she loved the feel of him. The hard muscles, slick skin, delicious mouth.
“I want to ride you the way I rode the Cobra today,” she said, her lips almost touching his. “Only I want your hands, your arms, to be the straps keeping me safe.”
“Jesus.” His breath caught in his throat as though even the idea of her being on top was too much for him.
She bit his lip. A love bite. Then leaned down and practically jerked the T-shirt off him. If she could have had him in the car at high speed on the freeway, she’d have done it. This was the next best thing.
They tore at the front of his jeans, Will undoing the button, Harper sliding the zipper. She stepped back onto the carpet to let him get rid of everything and swiped her T-shirt over her head. She’d never gotten naked so fast, and she didn’t even let him climb fully up the bed before she was on him again.
Her hair fell forward, cocooning them. “You made me crazy in the Cobra on purpose, didn’t you?”
He grinned a Who me? smile. But then his expression grew serious. And loving. “I want to give you everything,” he said in a voice made raw with desire and emotion. “Everything you want. Everything you need.”
The next thing she knew, he’d sheathed himself. In one desperate move, she took him fast. Hard. And oh so right. The rush shot to her brain as he gripped her hips, arched, and went so deep there wasn’t any part of her that wasn’t filled with him.
His skin was hot, his body hard. She was soft and liquid.
They were a perfect match.
“Harper.” He looked up at her and let her see all the way into his soul. “What you do to me—”
She reveled in the sweet sound of his surrender. Bending to the tattoo on his arm, she licked it, her tongue rasping like a cat’s on his flesh. “Mine,” she whispered. “Road Warrior.”
She lay flush against him and claimed his lips with another kiss. They were one, mouths locked, bodies fused. She took his tongue into her mouth the way she’d taken his hard flesh into her body, then angled her head for his kiss and circled her hips on him as Will groaned his pleasure again, a rumble against her breasts. She let him guide his hands on her—until she had to have more friction or she’d die without it.
She pulled back from his luscious mouth, his sweet taste, and planted her hands on his chest both to steady herself and because she couldn’t stop touching him. His skin was hot, his muscles hard. He forced her to a beautifully punishing pace, knocking the breath from her with each slap of their bodies.
She clenched around him. “Oh God, Will, please. Please.”
He was so beautiful beneath her, his face taut, his hot eyes owning her. All her emotion welled up her throat, her cries spilling over. But she didn’t care about the unladylike sounds she made. She didn’t care that sweat turned her skin slippery. She didn’t care about anything but the feel of him inside her...and the sound of his voice as he said, “I love you.”
Again and again and again.
*