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The Heat Is On Page 9


  He pulled her back against his chest, wrapping his arms around her from behind. “I’m not sending you away.”

  “But—”

  “We’ve got men on the shop, on all the dates, and now here, as well.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. And don’t forget, the perp doesn’t know where I live, my home address wasn’t on my profile. The guys were punking me, not trying to get me stalked and shot at.”

  “That’s right,” she murmured. “I keep forgetting you weren’t on that date by your own choice.”

  “Maybe not at first.” Turning her in his arms, he stroked a finger down her temple, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “But that changed pretty quickly.”

  She stared up at him. “When?”

  “When a pretty, wild-haired brunette showed up, willing to have a first date that involved adventure seeking and getting her hair wet and her hands dirty.”

  She smiled at him, some of the panic leaving her eyes. “So what now, Jacob?”

  “I want you to show me the profile you filled out, the one that the singles club used to line up your eight dates.”

  She moved back to the couch and opened his laptop. She waited until he leaned over her and typed in his password, then using his browser program, she accessed her e-mail and then opened a Word document. “Bella?”

  “It’s pretty detailed.”

  He knew because he’d seen the one the guys had filled out for him. There’d been some innocuous questions, like favorite foods and colors. And some not-so-innocuous questions, like sexual likes and dislikes. And fantasies. The profile wasn’t to be shared between any of the daters, only used to line up potential matches and, the club promised, would be destroyed afterward.

  The guys at the P.D. had bullshitted their way through Jacob’s. Since Bella hadn’t had her so-called friends “help,” most likely she’d answered truthfully, which meant that by allowing him to read her profile, he’d be reading her innermost thoughts and desires. It would be like peeling back the layers of the real Bella.

  She made a sound that said “screw it” and thrust the laptop at him.

  He looked at her, but had no idea what to say, so he began to read. Her favorite color was the color of the sun because it made her happy. Her favorite food was, surprise surprise, dessert of any kind. Her favorite clothes were anything that felt good and moved with her, she didn’t care about labels or designers. Her favorite amusement ride was anything with speed. Her favorite thing she’d not yet done—fall in love.

  He looked at her.

  She lifted a shoulder. “I think I should try everything at least once, including love. You know, someday.”

  She was embarrassed, but for him he was struck by her honesty and bravado. Since she’d hate for him to point that out, he nodded, and ignoring his suddenly tight throat, quietly read on. The next section was a list of sexual preferences. She preferred one lover at a time, didn’t mind toys when they were appropriate and didn’t need a bed in order to get in the mood.

  She’d left sexual fantasies blank.

  “They should be individual to whoever you’re with,” she said.

  He lifted his gaze to hers.

  “Yes,” she said. “What?”

  “You were going to ask if I have one for us. I do.”

  His body processed this faster than his brain. “Are you going to share?” he finally asked.

  “You first,” she said.

  He felt a little thrown. A feeling he was starting to get used to around her. He knew now wasn’t the time to be playful, but it felt like exactly the right time. They needed this. “Is this a show-and-tell sort of thing?”

  “I think it just might be,” she said, and for the first time since they’d gotten to his house, he smiled. “How bad do you want to know, Bella?”

  She took the computer from his lap and set it aside. “Bad. Besides, you owe me.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “I trusted you with my profile.”

  True. And, he realized, he trusted her. He, who because of his job and all he’d seen and done on that job, rarely trusted at all, trusted her to the bone after only a few days. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but he wasn’t quite jaded enough to let it go unappreciated. Pulling her onto his lap, he shifted her so that she was straddling him.

  “Wait,” she said, standing up and removing the jean shorts from beneath her dress. “More comfortable.”

  He was all for comfort.

  She settled back on his lap, once again straddling him. “I like this sundress,” he said. “It’s the same one you wore after we went Jet Skiing.” He ran his hands slowly up her smooth thighs, pushing up the hem as he went. “In my fantasy, you’re not wearing anything beneath.”

  “That’s it? That’s your fantasy? That’s…surprisingly tame.”

  “You didn’t let me finish.” His fingers glided higher on her thighs, and anticipation drummed between them. She was still covered by the hem of the sundress, but barely. “In my fantasy,” he went on, his voice thick and hoarse to his own ears, “we go out on my bike, and the whole time we’re riding, I can feel the heat of you, bare against me when you hug up close. You’re covered from view to everyone else by the wide skirt of your sundress, only I know you don’t have on panties.”

  Her breathing had definitely changed. Actually, he wasn’t quite sure she was breathing at all, but the pulse at the base of her throat leaped wildly. “Then what?” she whispered.

  “I take you out to dinner. While we’re waiting for our food, I slip a hand beneath the table, under your dress. You’re hot for me. You press yourself against my fingers, wanting more.”

  She opened her mouth a little, but nothing came out. Her eyes went glossy with arousal. He knew if he slid a hand beneath her dress right now, he’d find her hot and wet like in his fantasy. “We dance afterward. And every time I touch you, I’m reminded that you’re bare-ass naked beneath the dress. Then you lean in and whisper in my ear that I’m making you wet, and I can’t get you off the dance floor fast enough.”

  She drew in a shuddery gulp of air. “And then we make a run for the closest coat closet?”

  “Mmm, good plan. We’ll add that in. You’ll scream my name, but no one but me will hear over the music.”

  “I want to make you lose control, too,” she told him breathlessly. “You scream out my name, too.”

  He shook his head. “Guys don’t scream. It’s not manly.”

  She paused with a small smile. “Manly?”

  “My fantasy.”

  “You’re right,” she said, pacifying him with a pat on the shoulder. “You can groan my name loudly. But hate to break it to you, it’s still pretty tame.”

  “Still not finished.” He ran a finger over her shoulder. “Someone keeps interrupting me.”

  “Sorry. Do go on.”

  “We get back on the bike and ride along the bluffs overlooking the ocean. There’s no one around, so when your skirt blows up, you leave it.”

  He could tell by the way she nibbled on her lower lip that she liked that idea. A lot.

  “I reach back and feel you,” he murmured, sliding both hands up to her hips, bringing the hem of her dress up, as well.

  She was wearing a light blue silk thong. “You’re completely exposed,” he murmured. “And completely turned on by it. We pull over to the side of the road and—”

  “Have some fairly acrobatic beneath-the-moon sex?” she asked hopefully, eyes dilated, voice husky.

  “You have no patience.” Giving in to temptation, he nudged her forward, lightly sinking his teeth into the spot where her neck met her shoulder, loving the shiver that racked her. “First I get off the bike and just look at you.”

  “Is my dress still hiked up to my waist?”

  “Yeah. And you’ve unbuttoned the top part, too.”

  “No bra?”

  “No bra, and when I pull the dress all the way off, you look up at me with a sexy littl
e smile and slowly spread your legs.”

  “Like this?” And eyes on his, she did just that, opening her legs even farther over his.

  Christ. “Yeah,” he said hoarsely, watching the silk stretch tight over her mound. “And then you touch yourself. We both know anyone could walk by and see us at any time, but it doesn’t stop you from opening my jeans and—”

  “Wait a minute.” She cocked her head. “I’m nearly buck-ass naked in the great outdoors, and you get to pull out just the essentials?”

  “Yes, but the essentials are the important part.” He wanted to laugh at the indignation on her face. “My fantasy,” he reminded her.

  “Men suck.”

  “Actually, you suck. It’s what comes next in this scenario. Male Fantasy 101,” he admitted. “But don’t worry. Afterward, I lean you up against the bike, spread your legs, drop to my knees and return the favor until you’re screaming my name again.”

  “You like that, the screaming thing.”

  “I do.”

  “Then what?” she asked.

  “I turn you around, bend you over the bike and—”

  “Let me guess. Make me scream.” She shook her head. “You are such a guy.” The mock annoyance wasn’t fooling him. Her eyes were bright, she was having trouble breathing and her hands kept sweeping restlessly over his body, his shoulders, his abs…“How about the water?” she asked. “Do we get in the water and go skinny-dipping?”

  “Most definitely. And there’s no male shrinkage at all.”

  She burst out laughing, and he grinned, loving the sound. “In fact, you’re so impressed with me, we do it again.”

  She snorted.

  “And again,” he said, gliding his hands along her smooth thighs.

  “I wouldn’t be able to walk.” When his fingers got high enough to brush her panties, she closed her eyes and swallowed. “Or ride home.”

  “Fantasy,” he reminded her, groaning when he stroked a finger over the taut silk and found it wet—

  As if galvanized into action, she once again leveraged herself off him, evading his hands when he tried to stop her. “You’re going to like this,” she said. Lifting her hands, she untied the back of her halter dress, cupping the material to her breasts as it began to slide down.

  She was right. He was liking this.

  With a little smile, she slowly let it slip to her waist, exposing her bare breasts.

  Her nipples had hardened into two tight peaks and his mouth went dry.

  She slid her hands under the hem, giving him a quick peekaboo hint of that silk. Then she wriggled, and her hand reappeared with that blue silk, which she tossed over her shoulder.

  Ah, yeah. He was liking this a lot.

  “We’re not on your bike,” she murmured, slipping back onto his lap, straddling him. “But maybe we can improvise.”

  10

  “I’M GOOD AT IMPROVISING,” Jacob murmured in Bella’s ear. The rough timbre of his voice made her shiver. It was true, she thought. He was really good.

  Always.

  He kissed her lips and she curled her fingers around his neck. She slid them into the soft, silky hair at the nape, making him let out a low sound that was half growl, half purr, as if her touch had suffused him with pleasure.

  He wasted no time in once again pushing the dress up to her waist, but of course this time she was commando.

  “Christ, look at you,” he breathed reverently. “So pretty here.” Lightly, he dragged his thumb over her wet flesh. “And here.”

  Her head fell back, mouth open as she tried to suck in some air, but someone had used it all. She tightened her fingers on his hair as he continued stroking her with that rough, callused thumb. His other hand gripped her hip, slowly rocking her against the hard bulge behind his button fly. Then his mouth joined the fray, hungry and demanding as it devoured hers.

  It was all too much—and not enough. “Jacob.”

  “You feel so good, Bella.” Sliding his hand around to cup her ass now, he pulled her harder against him, letting her experience just how good she made him feel.

  She felt the same. Having him look at her like this had feminine power surging through her, and caused her pulse to throb in every erogenous zone in her body, of which there was suddenly so many. “Jacob—”

  “Right here.” His grip on her hips was tight, controlling as he ground against her rhythmically, causing the heat to spread. Her every muscle tightened, leaving her about an inch from orgasm.

  “I can’t get enough of you,” he murmured, opening his mouth on her throat, still rocking, always rocking.

  “Yes, but—” But she was going to go off far too quickly, she could feel it building within her even before he kissed and sucked and nibbled his way to her breasts.

  “Oh God.” She couldn’t suppress the whimper, or slow the train down. Her mind was spinning with it, with the shocked realization of what he did to her, how he could make her so completely lose herself so that nothing, nothing else mattered but this.

  Him.

  His mouth fastened on her nipple, and with another helpless whimper, she arched her back as he continued to grind his erection hard between her legs, assaulting her senses, finding a spot deep inside her that no one else had touched. “You have to stop,” she gasped, trying to pull free. “I’m going to—”

  He merely tightened his grip, and then lightly clamped his teeth down on her nipple.

  With a soft cry, she exploded—and lost her ability to see or hear anything over the roaring of the blood in her ears. When she could stop trembling and blink her vision clear, she pressed her face to his throat and moaned in embarrassment. “That was all your fault.”

  He slid his hands into her hair and lifted her face, his eyes scorching, his voice low and fierce. “I love the sounds you make when you come.” He looked at her for a moment, then rose to his feet, effortlessly holding her. “Bed,” he said, apparently done talking, preferring to move onto the doing portion of the evening. “Now.” And he kissed her deep and wet while, without missing a beat or taking his tongue out of her mouth, he strode down the hall to his bedroom. At the side of his bed, he slowly let her slide down his body.

  She opened his Levi’s, pulled out just the “essentials” and stroked the thick, hard length of him. “Condom?”

  He pulled one from his nightstand.

  “In the name of fulfilling fantasies,” she murmured, and with a last look in his eyes, turned from him and bent over the bed, knowing by the rough groan torn from his throat that he was enjoying the view. She felt his hands glide over her, gently murmuring in her ear when she jumped a little, soothing her with his touch as he pulled her back against him.

  Then he slowly pressed into her, wrenching a sigh of pleasure from her and a deep groan from him. He went still a minute, letting her adjust to his size, then began stroking her in long, slow thrusts that had her trembling, once again on the very edge. His mouth was on her shoulder, one hand on her hip, the other gliding back and forth between her breasts, teasing her nipples into two hard aching points. Then his fingers trailed down her quivering belly, slipping between her thighs.

  Gripping the blankets beneath her in two fists, Bella pressed her forehead into them as she gasped for air, making dark needy sounds that might have horrified her if she could have put a thought together. But Jacob’s mouth was on her neck, his fingers strumming between her legs as he moved within her, and suddenly there was no thinking at all.

  Behind her, Jacob groaned, struggling for control, a battle he lost as he followed her over, her name on his lips.

  AFTERWARD, JACOB TOOK HER into the kitchen to raid his fridge. He wore his jeans, unbuttoned. Bella wore his shirt.

  Also unbuttoned.

  He handed her a bottle of water and she drank as if she hadn’t had anything to drink for a week. “Your turn,” he said, watching her throat convulse as she swallowed. Fascinated, he ran a finger down her throat to the center of her chest, changing directions to glide th
e pad of his callused thumb over her nipple. It hardened into a tight bead, and his body had a matching reaction. Jesus. He was never going to get enough of her. “Your fantasy next.”

  She looped her arms around his neck, sinking her fingers into his hair, making him practically purr. “You really want to know?”

  He looked down into her face and felt something catch deep within him, and he knew in that moment that Ethan had been right.

  He had it bad for her.

  “I really do.”

  Tilting her head up, she met his gaze. “You show up at my place unannounced.”

  “Yeah?” His hands slid up the backs of her thighs, beneath the shirt.

  “I open the door to you and tell you…” She affected a look of mock shame. “That I’ve been bad. Very, very bad.”

  “Mmm.” His mouth was busy on the spot where her neck met her shoulder, his fingers cupping and squeezing her sweet, bare ass. “How bad?”

  She kissed one corner of his lips, then his jaw. His throat… “You have to cuff me.”

  His eyes drifted shut. “Do I?”

  “Uh-huh… And then—” She licked his nipple.

  “And then?” he managed to say.

  “And then you exercise your authority,” she whispered against his chest. “Because I’ve been so bad and all. I mean, really naughty.”

  He picked her up in tune to her surprised gasp, and carried her down the hall toward the bedroom, grabbing his cuffs on the way.

  “Where are we going?” she asked breathlessly.

  “To see just how bad you’ve been.”

  BELLA WOKE UP AND TOOK assessment. She was toasty warm, and someone had stolen all the bones in her body. She cracked open an eye.

  She was face-first in Jacob’s chest.

  Not a bad place to be, as it was a world-class chest. She was snuggled up to his side with one leg and an arm thrown over him, hugging him to her like her own personal body pillow. The blankets were long gone. Only a sheet covered them, and it was pooled low at their waists. It was still dark outside but there was enough light slanting through his window from the predawn to see that Jacob was asleep.

  As they’d not passed out until very late, and it was debatable as to whether it was officially still very late or very early, she couldn’t blame him.