“Over your parents, you mean.”
“No.” She met his eyes defiantly. “I mean ever.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Dead serious.” She tapped her fingers on her thigh. “It’s been a long, long time since I succumbed to that particular weakness.”
As a matter of fact, the last time she’d cried had been after he left her in Mexico. But he didn’t need to know that, now did he?
He ran a hand through his hair. “Well, no one’s crying now, and we need to turn around and go back before that changes.”
“I’m not going because you demanded I do so.”
He fisted his hands and glowered. She had a feeling he was giving her his best “I’m a fellow and you’re an intern” glare…but it wouldn’t work on her. “Christine, I swear to God—”
She cocked her head to the side. Time to go for the kill. “You look tired. I’m guessing you didn’t sleep well last night? Was something bothering you? Something…hard…perhaps? Tell me. Were you able to lay on your stomach at all?”
His backpack hit the ground and he stalked across the clearing, closing in on her. There it was. The anger she’d wanted. When he was angry…he kissed her. She needed him to kiss her more than she needed air right now. She lifted her chin at the fabulous show of anger in those green eyes that haunted her, her breathing heavy and triumphant.
When he pinned her body between his and the tree, it took all of her control not to praise the Lord at the top of her lungs. Hallelujah, amen.
She was finally getting what she wanted.
He gripped her hard. “No, I did not fucking sleep well last night. Is that what you want to hear? I had to jerk off while picturing you going down on me. It still didn’t help. I still need you.”
Her lips parted and she made a tiny sound she didn’t even recognize. “I can make it better.”
“And how will you do that, exactly?” He lifted her leg and insinuated himself between her thighs, pressing his cock against her heat. She moaned and dragged her nails down his back. “Because I can’t fucking keep track of what the hell you want from me.”
“I want you to stop talking” —she grabbed his hair and yanked hard—“and kiss me.”
He closed in on her mouth, but didn’t touch her. Instead he stopped just short of her lips. “Say it. Say you want me.”
Damn it. He was trying to take control, and she didn’t have enough strength to keep it out of his hands. Screw it. He could take the lead if it made him feel better—as long as he took her, too. She nodded frantically. “I don’t want you. I need you. Please.”
He buried his hands in her hair and tugged her head back. “This time? I’m not fucking stopping. And no running away.”
“No running away.” She yanked harder. “I won’t stop you this time. I’m yours, Tyler.”
Possession flashed over his eyes. Pure, hot, and archaic. Her nipples tightened, begging for his touch. “Damn right you are,” he growled.
And he kissed her. Thank God.
Chapter Nine
Christine collapsed back against the tree, inviting the pain of the bark digging into her shoulders. For once, she wasn’t thinking about her list.
It was just them. Him. Now.
She broke the kiss and yanked his shirt over his head. He lifted his arms to help her and let it hit the ground at his feet. He pulled her shirt over her head, then propelled her against the tree. The bark hurt her back even more without the protection of the cotton, but she didn’t give a damn.
When his lips closed over hers again, she ran her hands over his hard pecs. Over the years, she’d kind of hoped he’d let himself go soft and maybe had the decency to grow a beer belly or something. But he hadn’t. If anything, he was even harder than he’d been back in Mexico.
And now she wanted him even more than she’d wanted him then.
This whole thing had “mistake” written all over it in bright neon marker. But with his mouth on hers and his hands on her…oh my God. He closed his hands over her breasts and squeezed her nipples through her bra. She whimpered into his mouth and reached down, unclasping her bra with a simple flick of her wrist.
He pulled back and looked down at her, his eyes on his fingers. His fingers…oh my God, his fingers moved over her nipples, rolling them between his thumb and forefinger with expert precision. She arched her back and urged his head back down. He took the hint and lifted her higher up on the tree, his hips supporting her weight. He scraped his teeth over her nipple, and she cried out.
He repeated the movement, harder this time. She shuddered and tossed her head back. When she dug her heel into his butt, he rolled his hips against her and dropped his hold on her nipple. He met her eyes, his own hot and smoky and oh-so-irresistible. “I’m going to make you scream so fucking loud, Red.”
“I’m not a screamer anymore,” she panted, thighs tightening around him.
He gave her a cocky grin and bit down on her neck, where it met with her shoulder. At the same time, he rolled her nipples and rocked his hips into hers, his erection brushing against her clit. She moaned and arched her neck, drawing in a breath of air. The world spun around her so rapidly she had no idea which way was up anymore.
He released one of her nipples and melded his mouth to hers. When he let his hand drift lower, over her stomach and to the waistband of her shorts, she shifted her weight so he could move even lower. She needed him to touch her. To bring her to the edge again, and hold her tight as she crashed over it.
He traced his hand up her thigh, but didn’t give her what she wanted. No, needed. She broke the kiss off and pushed at his shoulders. “Put me down. My shorts have to go.”
“No.” He shook his head and nibbled on her lower lip. “Not yet.”
“But—”
He nibbled on the side of her neck and cupped her mound. “But what?”
“Oh my God.”
He ran his thumb over her aching clit, his touch not even close to hard enough. “You like that?” He repeated the movement, this time a little harder. “Don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“You want it harder, though.” He massaged her clit through her jean shorts, in big sweeping circles. He was going to freaking kill her with his not-quite-there touches. “You want me to fuck you hard, right against this tree.”
“Yes!” she shrieked, not even realizing how loud she sounded until he chuckled. She smacked his arm. “Just do it already.”
“I thought you didn’t scream.”
“You’re right. I don’t, not for anyone else. Only for you.” She smacked his shoulder harder. “Now do it.”
His smile slipped away, and he let her legs hit the ground. With trembling hands, he undid her shorts and yanked them down her hips. Her underwear came next, and she was left standing naked in the freaking woods, wearing nothing but hiking sneakers. Even worse? She didn’t even care.
All she cared about was getting him inside of her, and making him as desperate for her as she was for him. He reached down, grabbed his backpack, and removed a condom. Did the Boy Scouts teach him that, too? Doubtful.
She dropped to her knees, ignoring the sharp rocks and twigs digging into her skin. They didn’t matter right now. Nothing did but this. She undid his belt and tugged his shorts down. He wore a pair of navy-blue boxers underneath, and his cock strained against the soft cotton. She held her hand up, and he took the hint. When he placed the condom in her palm, she removed his boxers and leaned in close, her eyes on his straining erection.
She looked up at him and closed a hand around the base of his penis. He groaned and tensed, his muscles strained and hard. “Fuck, Red.”
“Time to make that dream a reality,” she murmured.
Without looking away from him, she flicked her tongue over the head of his shaft. He moaned and buried his hands in her hair. She half expected him to put up some sort of feeble protest like men always did. The “oh, you don’t have to,” followed by the gentle push of the h
ead so she moved closer. But not him.
He urged her closer and grunted out, “More now.”
She swirled her tongue around the head of his erection and closed her lips around him. Sucking gently, she took more of him in her mouth, moving deeper and deeper until her lips met her hand at the base of his shaft. He groaned and leaned back against the tree, his hands pulling on her hair so hard it hurt. But it hurt so good.
He moved his hips, urging her to take him in and out of her mouth, and his muscles tightened. When his hard abs flinched, she tasted the salty tang of his pleasure, and she braced herself for him to come.
But he grunted and yanked her off before she could so much as blink. “I’m not coming in that pretty little mouth of yours. Not tonight.”
He lifted her to her feet and picked the condom up off the ground. She didn’t even remember dropping it. He ripped it open and rolled it on without hesitation. She watched him, his hands on his shaft, and her mouth dried out. The sight of him touching himself where she’d just been almost made her whimper, but she swallowed it back.
When he dropped to his knees at her feet, she hissed in a deep breath. Within seconds he was on her, his tongue circling her clit and his fingers spreading her wide. She barely had time to react to the change in position before his fingers were inside her, his tongue moving faster. When he scraped his teeth against her and sucked, she screamed.
She actually screamed.