Can't Hardly Breathe (The Original Heartbreakers #4)

Dorothea paused but didn’t look back. “You shouldn’t have to know to forgive me or feel sorry for me or whatever it is you’re doing. What ever happened to just because I love you?” She kicked into motion, determined to push the encounter out of her mind. Today was about pleasure, only pleasure. Everything else could wait.

The sound of hammering drew her to the first floor...to the door of the theme room. The open door. She gaped, overcome by shock. The room was bursting with activity. Harlow was painting another mural. Jessie Kay sat on the bed, her head bent over her sewing. Daniel was building a new headboard. He was shirtless, which wasn’t fair to Dorothea’s hormones. The dogs were at his feet, chewing on his boots. Lyndie and Ryanne were chatting about the upcoming spring festival and picking up strips of tattered comforter. Jude and Brock were sanding the floor.

Tenderness welled inside her. Family wasn’t such a bad thing, after all. These people loved and supported her.

Daniel pointed the hammer at Jude. “If you want your skull to remain in its current condition, you’ll—” His gaze found Dorothea, and he quieted. He took in her “outfit” and the darkness of his pupils spilled over his irises. “Get out. Get out of the room. All of you. Now. Brock, take the dogs.”

His urgency thrilled her, arousing her to a fevered pitch.

“What the hell, man?” Jude grumbled.

“Well, clutch my pearls.” Jessie Kay placed her needles and material in a basket. “What’s gotten into my sweet Dan—Ohhhhh. I get it now. Our boy wants a little some-some from his girl.”

Jude and Brock noticed Dorothea, and Brock smiled a wicked smile. Jude nodded. Laughing, her friends clapped. Dorothea stood her ground, unabashed.

Daniel gave his friends a push. “Out!”

Everyone rushed into the hall. The guys patted her on the shoulder, and the girls winked at her. Daniel never took his eyes off her. She placed the Do Not Disturb sign on the doorknob, stepped deeper into the room and, with a little push, closed the door. The locked engaged.

He took her hand and studied her nails. He kissed her knuckles.

This man...

Her legs grew unsteady as she moved to the center of the room, but her blood practically fizzed like champagne bubbles as she untied the coat. The material gaped open, and cool air kissed her heated skin.

Daniel sucked in a breath. “Off.” A croak. “All the way.”

I think you’re perfect just the way you are.

She shrugged, the material slipping to the floor, leaving her bare. In the bright light of day.

Tension pulsed from him as he walked around her. Slowly. A predator soon to devour his prey. He had on pants, but she was naked, and she experienced a sense of heightened awareness, very conscious of the fact that she was being studied as thoroughly as a science experiment. Her heart raced, determined to win against some invisible competitor. Her nipples puckered. The apex of her thighs ached, and her bones felt as if they were melting.

“Do you know,” he began in a husky voice, “how beautiful you are?” He stopped in front of her, so tall and wide he dwarfed her. His gaze burned through flesh and blood and encountered soul. “Exquisite.”

The intensity of the moment staggered her, but a tangible weight held her in place.

“And you, Daniel.” How to explain the depths of her feelings for him? Her deep admiration for him, spirit, soul and body. “You are amazing. Wonderful. Strong. Sexy. You are magnificent. And sexy. You’re smart and talented, your carving skills unsurpassed. But it’s more than that. You are kind. You care, and it makes others care for you. You’re protective and...perfect. I think you’re perfect just the way you are.”

He reached out, his fingers trembling as they brushed over her tattoo, then one of her scars. At the moment of contact, she inhaled sharply; how could a simple touch be so incredibly pleasurable? Easy. Because Daniel was the one who’d touched her. The rasp and heat of his skin, the musk of his scent, the awed look in his eyes—they were her favorite things in the whole world.

“The things you do to me,” he said. He bent his head and fit his teeth around her nipple, taking a little nip. Blood rushed to meet him, causing the bud to swell with need. He gave the other one a nip, as well. “The things I’m going to do to you...”

“I hope your energy is high this morning.” She shivered. “I’ve got a little of that insatiable lust you mentioned.”

“The job of a gentleman lover is never done.” He swept her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. The sheets were chilly as he laid her down, and his tags and the locket were like ice when they clanged against her chest.

She loved the dark smattering of hair on his pecs and under his navel. Loved the bronzed hue of his skin. The tensile strength and sinew he’d earned on the battlefield. She loved his scars; they said I lived, I survived.

He rubbed his hand up and down his rigid length before he unfastened his pants, maintaining a slow, languid pace, not in any kind of hurry, but savoring every second he spent with her. She loved that, too. They’d sprinted to the finish line before, and as amazing as it had been, this was better. She got to savor him, too.

The pants were kicked aside. Soon his boxer briefs joined the pile. Because the lights were on, she received her first full-length view of him, and—someone save me—he was big. Really big. Her X-rated Prince Charming.

She cursed the fear that had kept her from this, from seeing all of him.

“Spread your legs.” His voice was nothing but a harsh rasp. “Let me see you.”

She obeyed without hesitation, showing him just how wet she was for him. Just how intensely he affected her.

His eyelids hooded as he traced a finger along her aching core. “Look how pink and pretty you are.”

Pleasure zinged through her, and goose bumps broke out all over her skin. “I think I was made just for you,” she said, almost drunk on pleasure, remembering when he’d admitted her body fit his.

“That’s right. Made just for me. I’m the only one who can have you. The only one who can have this.” The possessiveness of his tone was almost as potent as his next caress.

“Then take it.” Her hips arched up to meet him. A challenge. A dare. “Take it now.”

“Oh, sweetheart. You’re playing with fire...and I’m going to make you scream for it.” He took her hips in his hands and yanked her to the edge of the mattress. After he placed her feet on his shoulders, he dropped to his knees.

So vulnerable. And yet she had never been so turned on.

He leaned in to nuzzle her inner thigh. The stubble of his beard tickled her but also sent a riptide of pleasure zinging through her, and she moaned. He kissed around her core, and waiting for his mouth to reach her where she needed him most was as much agony as ecstasy. Bowing her back, she reached overhead and fisted the pillows, offering herself up to him in every way. Calloused fingers kneaded her breasts before tracing a path of flame down her stomach...but still his mouth remained just out of reach.

She’d told him to take what he wanted. Now she would heed her own advice. She lifted her hips again, higher and higher, until...