“Everything about you is so hard,” she murmured against his neck.
Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea.
He was stiff with arousal, and when her fingers dropped to the waistband of his sweats, he stopped her.
“Rachel, is there a couch or maybe even a bed we can use? I don’t know how I’m going to do this with these damned crutches.”
“I’m using the guest room,” she said, and dropped her hands from his body. “This way.”
Jamie followed her through the house to a room beyond the living room. She switched on a small lamp and Jamie saw what had once been a playroom when they’d been kids was now a bedroom, complete with an attached bathroom.
“My grandparents can’t really do the stairs anymore, so my parents converted this room to a bedroom,” Rachel explained.
Jamie watched as she quickly gathered up some clothing she’d left on a nearby chair, and then flipped a small wireless speaker on, and soft music filled the air. Then she yanked the bedspread to the foot of the bed, and pulled the blankets back. He couldn’t quite get his head around the unbelievable fact they were really going to do this. He was finally going to have sex with Rachel McCafferty and even if he couldn’t last—and he was already so freaking aroused he doubted he could—it was going to be the most amazing two minutes of his life.
“Sit here,” Rachel indicated, patting the edge of the bed. “I’m going to take care of you.”
The way she said the words let Jamie know that taking care of him didn’t have anything remotely to do with his injury. He eased himself onto the side of the bed, and dropped his crutches to the floor. He watched as Rachel stood in front of him and, never taking her eyes from his, she began to undress.
Slowly, as if wanting to torture him, she began to undo the buttons on her blouse, her body undulating softy to the music. Her hair swirled around her shoulders in thick, glossy waves, and one long tendril fell over her eyes, giving her a sultry look.
Jamie’s eyes were riveted to where her fingers were slowly unfastening the last button, and then spreading the edges of the blouse apart. Beneath the shirt, she wore a navy-blue lace bra. Beneath the open lace, he could see her pale skin and hints of her rosy nipples.
He swelled even more.
“Now it’s your turn,” she said, and moved forward so she all but straddled his good leg. She grasped the bottom of his shirt and tugged it upward. Jamie helped her by reaching behind his head and grabbing a fistful of the shirt, and pulling it off in one smooth motion.
“Lie back on the bed,” she said, and pushed gently on his shoulders. Jamie complied, hitching himself back so he lay diagonally across the mattress. He watched as Rachel took a bed pillow and eased it under his cast to support his leg. “Is that good?”
Jamie was unabashedly admiring how the tops of her creamy breasts jiggled beneath the lace bra as she moved, and the only thing he could manage was a nod, and an incomprehensible mumble of assent.
“Good. Can you help me take these off?” She carefully climbed over his body to slide her fingers beneath the waistband of his pants.
Jamie complied by lifting his hips, and helping her push the fabric down. He’d forgotten he was going commando until she gasped softly, and the cool air wafted across his erection.
“Oh, Jamie,” she whispered, and she stroked one fingertip along the ridge of his scar, where it curved downward and ended just above his groin.
“I got very, very lucky,” he said. “I don’t think I appreciated just how lucky, until right now.” He took her hand and moved it to where he ached for her touch, and she complied, trailing her fingers oh-so-lightly along his length.
“You are so beautiful.”
The awe in her voice, and her light touch caused his flesh to swell even more, and Jamie let his head fall back against the blankets as he struggled to breathe. She pulled the pants free of his legs, and he lifted his head to watch as she stripped her shirt off, and then reached behind her back to release her bra.
When the scrap of material fell away, Jamie sucked his breath in at the sight of the most perfect breasts he’d ever seen. Then she was unbuttoning her jeans and pushing them down over her hips and thighs, until finally, she wore nothing but a scrap of navy silk. Only then, when she saw him staring at her, did she look self-conscious. He could almost see her battling with the desire to cover herself, before she tipped her chin up and then came over him on her hands and knees, taking care to avoid his injured leg. Her breasts were right there, and it was all he could do not to haul her upward so he could bury his face between them.