He quickly ripped open the wrapper, sheathed himself, then thrust forward. At the sudden fullness, she arched, crying out. Embedded to the hilt, he closed his eyes and groaned. “That’s it. Make those noises for me. Let me hear you.”
He buried his head against her neck as he slowly withdrew and pushed back. He continued the steady pace, his harsh breath heating her skin. She let out small stuttered gasps and cradled the man in her arms and her body.
“Gayle, you feel so good.” His lips pressed into her shoulder, then a light nip of his teeth. He thrust a little harder, a little faster.
She wanted him deeper. Spreading her legs, she grabbed his ass in her palms and drove him forward. He pushed up on his hands, towering above her as he increased his pace.
Knowing he was watching her was an aphrodisiac. Closing her eyes, she relinquished all control and allowed the feelings he created inside her to tumble out into the open. Moans, gasps, muttered words of pleasure. She held nothing back. Didn’t quiet herself, didn’t care if she woke the entire motel, she gave him what he needed—by simply expressing what he truly did to her body. There was no falseness, no exaggeration. Just an uninhibited response. To him.
“So goddamn beautiful,” he said, his voice strained. “So fucking full of life.” Sliding his hand over her mound, he circled her clit. The sensations inside tripled. “I want to watch you come.”
With that explosive combination, she came fast—long and loud. He took a harsh breath and his steady pumping faltered. He braced his hands on the mattress as he thrust hard three more times, his body quaking, then he collapsed to his elbows with a sated groan.
Still breathing hard, she placed a kiss on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”
Gratitude—and something else she couldn’t quite name—warmed his eyes as he brushed her hair back. “I am now. I needed this. I needed you.”
He kissed her and shifted his body so she turned onto her side, then he spooned behind her. He wrapped an arm around her waist, and she stroked his forearm. Wow. She’d had sex before. Thought she’d understood what it was just to kick back and enjoy the act. The first time she’d been with Mac, she realized she’d held a part of herself back.
Tonight she’d set herself free.
And most likely free to have her heart crushed in the process.
Chapter Nine
From the moment he’d woken this morning to find Gayle already dressed in khaki shorts and a pale green tank top, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, sitting cross-legged on her bed tapping away on her laptop, Mac had noticed a new tension in her. No doubt it had to do with the unexpected turn of events last night. But after he’d woken from the nightmare to find her beside him, safe and alive, he couldn’t keep from reaching for her, much less stop what happened afterward. And he didn’t regret it. Not for a second.
The terror of yesterday’s events had catapulted him into the moment and with its stranglehold had kept him from sinking into the past. As she’d run past him screaming a tornado was coming, he had not been paralyzed with fear—instead he’d been pushed into action. Compelled to protect the woman he’d grown to care for.
Last night, for the first time, his nightmares hadn’t revolved around finding Ally, they’d been about losing Gayle. Definitely things he was going to have to think about…but one thing was clear, a corner had been turned.
As the day wore on and they drove the five hours north toward the intersecting borders of Oklahoma, Texas, and Arkansas, her shoulders had grown even more rigid. Once they made it over into Arkansas, they’d camped out in the parking lot of a truck stop for the last three hours. Gayle became obsessive over the laptop and her assortment of different radars and numbers. A few minutes ago, she and Rick had released a weather balloon into the air.
And that was when the mood in both of them had changed. As usual their technical speak went over Mac’s head. Something about separate things converging, cap levels eroding, and a bad feeling. But it was then he finally realized Gayle’s withdrawn attitude didn’t have anything to do with last night.
Something was brewing. Now.
Something horrible.
“Okay. Why the hell are we sticking around here?” he finally asked.
Everything about today was off. After the long, hurried drive to get here, they just sat on the hood of the SUV and watched the sky. No one talked. Every minute that crept by in the edgy quiet increased Mac’s damn stress. Two storm chasers not excited about the chase and having “bad feelings” was seriously fucked up.
Gayle studied him, almost as though trying to decide if she was going to let him in on the secret or not. Her shoulders slumped. Fuck. She’d decided to tell him. Now he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. “We’re waiting, Mac.”
“On what?”
“The explosion.”
That sounded…bad. “Can you be a little more specific?”