Chapter Twelve
Brianna’s eyes were still on his, her body close enough he could inhale her wild flower scent. Her lips so damn close, Mitch could almost taste her. Call him selfish, but right now he wasn’t thinking about the patients lying in the ward. He wasn’t thinking about the bleep in his pocket either, destined to go off at any time. All he could think about was the woman who stood in front of him. He only had to stretch out his hand and he could touch her. She was his for the taking.
‘Mitch?’ His name was a whisper from trembling lips. He heard her inhale an unsteady breath and then she bit into her lower lip. This time the gesture wasn’t coy, or deliberate. It was uncertain, scared almost. It was a heady moment, knowing he could unnerve her. She’d done it to him often enough.
His hands twitched in his pockets, but just as he started to pull them out, to drag her to him and take what he wanted, she spun abruptly away from him. ‘I’m sorry, you obviously don’t want this.’ Her voice caught as she stood with her back to him. ‘I think you should go.’
Mitch stared at her in stunned disbelief. Had she really taken his hesitation as a sign of indifference? Was this gorgeous creature really that unsure of herself? Heck, if she’d been any other woman, he would have thought a lot less and moved a lot quicker. The fact that he hadn’t, told him he knew this had the potential to be far more than a quick romp between the sheets. It bothered him enough to hesitate. But not enough to stop.
He reached out and snatched at her arm, pulling her back towards him. ‘Not so fast.’
At the sound of Mitch’s rough, husky voice, Brianna’s legs, already shaking, nearly gave way. Had it not been for his arm supporting her, she’d be a crumpled heap by his feet. Jeez, she was crap at seduction.
But then she turned to look at him, and her stomach almost fell to the floor.
Dark eyes, almost black, gazed heatedly back at her, filled with desire and a hint of the danger she found so exciting about him. Her pulse scrambled and someone — was that really her? — let out a breath that was half moan, half gasp.
He tugged on her hand. ‘My tent,’ he snapped, his voice hoarse. ‘It’s got a larger bed.’
With her heart hammering against her ribcage, she followed him. When they were both inside he zipped the door firmly shut. Then his mouth came crashing down on hers.
There was nothing tender about the way Mitch set about making love. He was fever and fire. His kisses left a burning path in their wake. His hands . . . Oh God, his hands were everywhere. There wasn’t a part of her left untouched by his heat.
‘There’s something you need to know about me,’ he muttered between hot kisses. ‘I don’t think much of long foreplay.’ With that he unceremoniously yanked off her clothes and threw them across the tent.
It was fierce, wild and utterly thrilling. Caught up in the fervour, she tried to get to his flesh. She wanted to touch his naked body, to see how the muscles she’d glimpsed beneath his T-shirt played out across his chest. To feel their strength. Pushing up his shirt she snaked her hand up his back.
He batted it away ‘We’ll get to that.’
He was like a tornado, whipping over her body, intent on getting his fill of what he wanted. And that seemed to be to devour every part of her. From her breasts, to the liquid centre between her legs, he explored, leaving a scorching trail in his wake.
‘Please, Mitch . . .’ she implored him, suddenly not confident enough to ask for what she wanted. What she needed.
He seemed to understand, for he lifted her into his arms and lowered her onto the bed before finally tearing off his own clothes. Brianna watched, fascinated, as he stretched to pull off his T-shirt, giving her a blissful glimpse of hard, well defined muscles, a dramatic black tattoo and a sprinkling of dark blond hair.
After pulling a condom from his holdall he quickly sheathed himself and launched on top of her. With a single fluid movement he pushed her legs apart and drove himself inside. He didn’t ask, he just took. As he thrust his powerful body into hers, she thought she’d die with the pleasure. He felt . . . incredible. She cried out, only to have his hand brought down firmly onto her mouth.
‘Canvas walls,’ he muttered.
She was too far gone to care. All she wanted was for his body to keep pounding into hers, again and again, harder and faster. Finally she bit down on his hand as an intense orgasm ripped through her system. It seemed to go on and on, leaving her totally shattered. As she lay in a post-climactic haze, she was dimly aware of him stiffening inside her, taking his own release.
For several pulsating minutes he lay, fully stretched out, on top of her. When he finally eased onto his elbows and looked down at her, his hair was mussed and his eyes like deep pools of liquid chocolate. ‘I think we’ve successfully established this is what I wanted,’ he announced roughly.
He was still inside her. Even as she smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck, she was aware of him hardening again. ‘Umm, I can see that.’ She arched her hips to encourage him. His brown eyes darkened further and his mouth descended onto hers once more.
* * *
Lying on her side, totally spent, Brianna cuddled up close to Mitch and rested her head on his chest. His bed might be larger than hers, but it was still narrow, forcing them together. She took the opportunity to study the body pressed up against her. It wasn’t the prettiest male body she’d ever lain next to, but it was the toughest. The panther tattoo crept intimidatingly across the top half of his arm, adding to his wild boy aura. His tanned chest wasn’t the sort artfully created by hours in a gym. It was one that matched his face, rugged and strong. Several scars ran haphazardly across it. Gently she ran a finger across the ridge of the most ragged scar. ‘A war wound?’
Mitch looked down at the dainty fingers brushing across his skin, sliding over the scar he’d received from a knife fight when he was thirteen. He swore softly to himself. Those soft, well-manicured hands didn’t belong on him. What the hell was he doing with her? But even as he wondered, his body responded to her touch. How could he want her again? He’d harboured a faint hope that taking her to bed would get her out of his system, but his body was emphatically telling him something entirely different. ‘Unless you’re up for another round, I suggest you put that finger away.’
She looked up at him through a tangle of glossy chestnut hair. ‘I wouldn’t say no, but I’m going to need a rest first. You’ve worn me out.’ She bent to kiss the scar.
Uncomfortable with her scrutiny, Mitch pulled up the sheet. ‘You can’t play with the goods if you’re not prepared to handle the consequences.’
A giggle burst from her but she obediently lay her hands over the sheet, snuggling in further to his side. ‘Tell me a bit about Mitch McBride.’
He stilled. ‘What do you want to know?’
She cocked her head up from its resting place on his chest. ‘Well, start from the beginning. Your parents.’
‘What about them?’ He clasped his hands behind his head and tried to relax.
‘Are you close to them?’
‘No.’
Brianna sighed. ‘This is worse than getting blood out of a stone. Are they still alive?’
Mitch glanced down at her. Hadn’t she got the message yet? She was clearly one of those women who wanted cosy conversation after making love. Well she’d chosen the wrong guy for that. And most definitely the wrong topic of conversation. ‘No,’ he replied shortly.
‘Any brothers or sisters?’
‘No.’
‘Come on, Mitch, can’t you say anything but no?’
‘I don’t recall saying no tonight.’
Brianna sat up in frustration, the sheet dropping off and leaving her breasts exposed. ‘Come on, these are simple questions. Why all the secrecy?’
He let out a long, exasperated breath. Women. She sat there, taunting him with her bare breasts, and expected him to have a conversation about his family? Something he didn’t talk about. Ever. Even if bare breasts were nowhere in sight. ‘Why all the questions?’ he countered.
Brianna glared at him. ‘I want to know a little bit about the man I’m sleeping with, that’s all. You know all about me.’
He dragged his eyes from her delicious breasts and focused on her face for a moment. ‘Brianna, this is just sex. We’re not about to start a relationship. We don’t need to waste time on conversation when we could be putting that time to much better use.’
Before she had a chance to protest, he captured one of her breasts in his mouth and pushed her back down onto the bed.
* * *
‘Where are you going?’ Through the haze of sexual satisfaction, Brianna became aware of Mitch pushing her aside so he could get out of the bed.
‘I’ve been bleeped.’ He was shoving his long legs into his trousers and grabbing at the nearest T-shirt. ‘I don’t know how long I’ll be.’
There was a pointed silence. Though she waited for the words telling her to go back to sleep, he’d join her when he was finished, they weren’t forthcoming. ‘Right. I’ll go back to my tent then.’
Mitch simply nodded at her and vanished. Slowly Brianna eased back against the pillow. She felt hurt, slighted, though why she’d expected anything different, she didn’t know. He hadn’t exactly been tripping over himself to charm her into bed. No, it was she who’d done the chasing. He might be up for sex, but clearly that was all. Spending the night cuddling up in his bed had never been on the cards, whether he’d been bleeped or not. She should have known that, readied herself for it.
Annoyed with herself, she moved out of the bed and hunted around for her clothes — clothes that had been discarded earlier with ruthless abandon. Well, it might not have had the ending she’d hoped for, she acknowledged as she zipped up her trousers, but it had certainly been a night she would never forget.
* * *
When Mitch made it back to his thankfully empty tent an hour later, he had the first opportunity to mull over what the hell had happened. God, he’d never been more pleased to be bleeped in the middle of the night in the whole of his life. When he’d first opened his eyes, he’d been horrified to find he’d fallen asleep with his arms around Brianna, her body nuzzled against his. They’d looked like a real couple, rather than two people who were together just for sex. He’d been so damn shocked he’d pushed her away with more roughness than he’d intended, subconsciously knowing he’d wanted to wake her up. Had wanted to make sure she wasn’t in his bed when he’d got back.
It was a mystery to him why women thought having sex with a man automatically gave them the right to wake up next to him. He preferred to wake up alone, something that had led to him being called cold and heartless on many occasions. Probably he was, but he was a loner. He liked his space, his freedom, his independence. It was how it had always been. He’d stopped relying on other people a long time ago. Since he’d done that, accepted that he was on his own, that there was nobody to look out for him but himself, life had been a lot simpler. It was how he intended it to stay.