He grew bolder—sliding hands beneath her T-shirt, cupping her breasts, teasing her taut nipples, making them harden more. It wasn’t enough for her. She wanted rid of her bra—couldn’t her clothes just evaporate?
“We can’t do this here,” he said, casting a rigid look around the steel kitchen.
Hell, that’s right, they were in a kitchen—a bakery where people arrived at three in the morning to start on the bread.
“I don’t normally do this,” she panted—suddenly jerked back into reality. She didn’t want complicated. She didn’t want heartbreak. But she did want him.
“Tonight you do,” he replied. “But not here. My place. Comfort, space, privacy.” He suddenly turned away from her, flinging the rinsed dishes into the dishwasher with supersonic speed.
Libby couldn’t help smiling. “What about Tom? I thought you didn’t want me to see him?”
“He’s not there, he’s back at training camp for the last part of his preparations.” Jack was wiping down the counter already.
“So how’s he getting my muesli?”
Jack rinsed the cleaning cloth, stowed it and glanced around the sparkling kitchen with a satisfied grunt. “I’m couriering it to him.”
Oh. They’d have his place to themselves. No interruptions, no distractions. Only privacy—perfect for sex—full on, hard, frantic, glorious sex. She could do that for one night, right? Just because she didn’t want forever, didn’t mean she couldn’t have this now.
“Come with me.” His words dropped into her ear sending a shiver of anticipation—excitement arrowed to her belly, her whole body squeezed in glee as she leaned into his heat. He took her hand and led her from the kitchen. Every five paces along the footpath—each moment she was about to speak—he stopped and kissed her, his tongue skillfully sweeping away any rising caution.
Finally in his apartment, they kissed their way to his room. He fingered the hem of her T-shirt, teasing it up—she lifted her arms to help. His fingers worked at her back, and in a second her bra was undone. He slid the straps down her arms until the satin and lace fell to the floor. Standing there bare-breasted—warm summer air whispering over her skin, she looked at him.
“Libby.” He appeared to have frozen.
“I have to warn you, it’s been a while,” she blurted.
He gently bent and kissed her neck, his chuckle muffled against her skin. “You think I didn’t know that?”
“Smart Alec.” She mock swiped him, but at the last minute softened her blow to caress his cheek. But then she added seriously. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”
He pulled her close so she could feel exactly how aroused he was. “There’s no way you’d ever disappoint. It’s been a while for me too.”
“Now you’re the one telling tall tales,” she chided.
“I’m not,” he answered seriously. “I’ve been very busy at work.”
She gazed up at him, reading the hot sincerity in his eyes. And she smiled.
She stepped back, undoing her jeans and shimmying them down—along with her knickers. She didn’t want to be shy. She didn’t want to waste a second with silly worries. She wanted to indulge, to revel and celebrate this only time she had him.
“What do you want me to do?” he asked, sounding like he’d suddenly come down with laryngitis.
“I want to see you naked.” She’d been imagining it for days.
He whipped his T-shirt over his head. She stared. Oh man, her imagination was officially useless—he was way more incredible than she’d dreamed. Her legs turned to goo. She sat on the bed, watching as he swiftly discarded his jeans and boxers. He was so fine, so built, with a dusting of hair arrowing to his literally outstanding hard-on, and not an ounce of fat anywhere. All muscled male.
All mine.
Libby’s blood flowed like quicksilver, spirited and fast along her veins. It pooled in her lower belly—the nucleus of her need and where she needed him to be.
“You have an amazing body,” she said in frank awe. She’d never seen anyone so sculpted. And she went to the gym, she saw fit frequently. She swallowed—with difficulty. Because he was broad too—broad shouldered, big-muscled, endowed. His palms spread wide over her narrow shoulders, making her feel very feminine. She moved her fingers in feline fashion over him, skimming a nail over his defined abs, tracing the taut grooves of muscle beneath skin.
He drew in a deep shuddering breath.
Eyes wide, she looked up at him as she swept her hands lower still. “You okay?”
“You’re very good,” he murmured huskily, pressing his hot body against her hands.
“Flatterer.” She shook her head. “It’s just that I want you like crazy.”
And it was abundantly clear he wanted her as much.
“Thank goodness,” His fingertips traced her collarbones. “You’ve been killing me these last couple of days.”
“You’ll have relief soon enough,” she sent him a gleaming look beneath her lashes. “And we’ll both feel better.”
She glided her hands over his muscled arms. He let her take her exploration slow—seated in front of him, drinking in his physical beauty.
“Did you row too?” she asked, lifting her hands to sweep them across his ridged abs and up to his broad chest.
He nodded.
“Not lightweight division.” She moved her sweeping circles lower again. Her temperature sizzled.
He smiled and shook his head.
“And you obviously use all those torture machines in the living room.” He was majestic—so built.
“Uh huh.” He gently ran his fingers underneath her chin, stroking the vulnerable skin down her neck.
She tilted her head to give him more freedom. She’d not known how sensual such a simple touch could be—especially from such a big guy. “You’re the one who’s good,” she sucked in a breath.
His hands lowered, cupping her breasts and gently pushing them together. “Not that good.”
“Prove it,” she whispered.
He moved, pulled open a drawer from the low bedside cabinet, rummaging for protection. She laughed as he struggled to get the box free of its plastic wrapper—secretly thrilled to see his haste.
He glanced at her. “Oh sure, you go ahead and relax while you still can.”
“What are you implying?”
“That in about a minute,” he paused as he tore the foil with his teeth. “You’re going to be wound tighter than a gymnast’s leotard.”
He rolled on the rubber with a grimace and stood, feet planted wide on the floor in front of where she still sat on his bed.
“Is this what you wanted?” He asked, a wicked look in his eye.
“It’s the first item ticked off, yes.” Seeing him naked had been even more thrilling than she’d imagined. Would every thing else surpass her fantasy too? She was certain of it.
“And the next?”
There was really only one other thing she could think of now. She told him. Two words—raunchy, crude and blunt in their meaning.
He laughed as he stepped closer, bending to tease. “Going to do more than that.”
“No, just do that now.” Now, now, now. She didn’t need foreplay, she was ready. She wanted him inside her—that huge, powerful body driving in her, rapid and relentless until she went mad.