Chapter 35
Skip the strawberries and pass the whipped cream
April 24
Wednesday late evening
After the long friggin’day, I needed a warm, relaxing bath while Donovan fixed us dinner. I still had to keep my bandages and cast out of the water, so it was never easy. I refused to look at the bandage on my belly that covered what hurt me more than anything.
When my skin started to wrinkle from being in the water so long, I got out, towel-dried my body and hair, and got a good look at my face in the mirror. Three days hadn’t given the bruises a lot of time to heal, so looking sexy for Donovan wasn’t on the menu. But who cared? I had to finally have him.
I needed him. I needed that intimacy with him, and I was sure he did too.
With a little maneuvering, I managed to pull on a pair of stretchy jogging shorts and a clean top with no bra. Hey, why screw with the thing while wearing a damned cast?
I dried my hair some more. I felt refreshed, not worn out from spending the day looking at maps and charts and surveillance vids.
A little more energized, I walked down the hall and headed to the kitchen, following the most heavenly smells.
I went through the kitchen door and saw Dixie with her silver bowl of Fancy Feast. “You spoil her, you know.”
Donovan looked up from where he was making some kind of Chinese dish in a wok. Yummy. Donovan. Oh, and the food, too.
When he caught my gaze all I could concentrate on were his lips.
Those lips. I so wanted to feel them on mine, to taste him like when he had found me.
“I need to help,” I said as I moved toward him.
He raised his eyebrows, and his expression was most definitely suspicious.
When I was within inches of him, I would have tried to put my arms around him to pull him toward me for that kiss I wanted so badly, but I’d likely hit him upside the head with my cast and knock him out. Instead, I leaned close to him and tipped my head back, inviting him.
“You’re awfully unfair, you know,” I said.
Donovan gave me an amused look. “Oh?”
“You give me the most amazing kisses, but you act like I’ll crumble if you go any farther.”
He settled his hands low on my hips and his mouth crooked in that sexy way. “Maybe I’m afraid I’ll crumble.”
“Let’s find out,” I said.
And he kissed me.
Heaven.
His taste, the way his tongue explored my mouth, the way his lips moved over mine—I could seriously get addicted. Fine by me if we stayed here forever. He gently nipped at my lower lip and I gave a sigh of pleasure.
That kiss was doing serious things to my body.
Donovan drew away and I sighed, still in total bliss as I said, “This is worth missing dinner for.”
Cast be damned, I just about crawled right up him when he ran his finger over the curve of my ear. “You are not missing dinner.”
His T-shirt felt soft and warm as I clutched it in my good fist. “Pretty please?”
“No.”
“How about dessert?” I said. “I don’t mind missing dessert.”
That cute little quirk again. “What if it involves strawberries and whipped cream?”
“As long as I’m wearing it.”
A full-fledged grin. I got a grin out of him!
He traced his finger down my collarbone and stopped at the swell of my breast. “I have the strangest desire to skip dinner, too.”
“Oh, I love it. Straight for dessert.”
“No.” He tugged at a lock of my hair. “I bet your mother would think you’ve been starved to death if she got a good look at you now. After a week of only broth, Steele, you’re too thin.”
I raised my shirt just enough to show my bandages. “You can’t see my ribs anyway. So who’ll notice?” I dropped my shirt again and pressed against him.
He brought his fingers up and brushed his knuckles along my cheekbone. “Look at me, honey. The exhaustion and the fact you haven’t had decent meals for awhile—it’s right in those pretty green eyes of yours.”
“Then feed me.” I crossed my arm and my cast in front of me, and gave him a pretend glare. “And I demand dessert. Strawberries, with lots and lots of whipped cream.” I tipped my head to the side. “On second thought, skip the strawberries.”
He pressed his lips tight to mine. “Maybe,” he said when he released me.
I looked down at the hard line of his erection and met his eyes. “Uh-huh.”
April24
Wednesday evening
My system was haywire and I could barely think, much less concentrate on dinner.
The moment Donovan set his empty plate on the coffee table, I tackled him, knocking him back on the couch so that I straddled his thighs. I was real careful not to sit on the part of his body that was still healing from the bullet wound.
A grin. Ha! I got a grin again when I tackled him.
As he settled his hands on my hips, I pushed his T-shirt up and ran my palms over his taut abs. Such warm skin and hard muscle—I wanted to kiss and lick and taste every square inch.
Not enough time. Had to have him, now. “Time for dessert, Donovan.”
“What about the whipped cream?” The look in his eyes was absolutely wicked.
“Can’t wait that long.” I pushed his shirt higher up and settled myself over his erection. He felt so big. “I want you inside me right this minute.”
Donovan cupped the back of my head with one of his hands, brought my mouth to his, and spoke against my lips. “Don’t you think it might help if we weren’t wearing clothes?”
“Damn,” I murmured before he brought me down hard, kissing me with the same intensity as he had when he’d found me a few nights ago.
Mmmm, delicious. The Guinness he’d had with dinner mingled with this new taste that I didn’t think I could get enough of. No describing the flavor, it was uniquely Donovan.
My tongue met his again and again as I braced my good hand on one shoulder. He sure didn’t seem to mind my cast pressing against his other.
I groaned into his mouth as his hands moved from my hips and slipped beneath the oversized T-shirt, up my belly, and settled on my breasts. Smart me. No bra.
Had my nipples ever been so tight, ached so much to be touched? Licked? Sucked?
Whoa. Dizzy. His kiss actually made my world spin. I rocked on his erection as he squeezed my nipples and I felt how hard he was between my thighs. Unfortunately, there was the tiny matter of his jeans and my shorts between his cock and my achy, achy parts. I wanted to feel his length, his hardness, to have every inch of him inside me.
I gasped when he took his lips from mine and adjusted me so that he could lick one nipple before running his tongue over the other.
“Donovan—” I started to say something, but my mind blanked when he gently bit my nipple. How many times could a woman cry “Oh, my God!” when with a man like Donovan?
I was on my way to finding out.
Couldn’t take much more.
What was I going to say? Oh, yeah. “Clothes.” I moaned with the next nip of his teeth. “Off.”
He adjusted me so that he could skim his lips along the curve of my ear. Shivers along my spine. “How loose are those shorts?” A growl. I swear he said it in a low, husky growl that reverberated through me.
Shorts? Loose?
Yes, oh yes. “Loose enough.”
His jeans roughened the insides of my thighs as I scooted down just enough to unbutton his jeans. Small problem of the cast.
He did the honors.
What an honor. The sheer size of him was going to feel so good again. Oh, yeah.
The need to taste him first was so strong that I wrapped my fingers around his length and I eased down. I heard the catch in his breath as I took him inside my mouth. I flicked my tongue and tasted him. He gave a loud groan and clenched his hands in my hair as I sucked hard.
I looked up at him and his jaw was tight as our eyes met.
“Got to fuck you.” He sounded like it was costing him just to talk. “Be inside you.”
I raised my head enough to say, “Oh, yeah. Talk dirty. I love it.”
He pushed his erection into my mouth before he released my hair with one hand. I flicked my tongue and sucked his cock as he reached beneath him and drew out a packet.
The moment he got that packet open, he tossed the empty aside and made me stop sucking him so that he could roll the condom down his erection.
Donovan drew me up so that I was directly over him. He adjusted my shorts so that I was bare to him.
“Damn, Lexi,” he said. “I’m going to take you hard and I’m not going to stop until you come.”
He brought me down so fast that I didn’t expect it. The moment he drove into me, I gasped and almost shouted.
So thick, long, and hard. My eyes nearly watered as he reached deep inside me. His grip on my hips tightened as he raised and lowered me in time to every one of his thrusts.
He hadn’t been kidding.
I’d never felt anything like this. I clenched my fist in his T-shirt as I hung on for the ride. Trying to keep my eyes from crossing wasn’t easy as my climax came rushing toward me like a subway train that had decided it wasn’t stopping for anything. No brakes.
Donovan didn’t slow his pace, but from the tenseness on his features and the way he clenched his jaw I’d bet he was as close to coming as I was.
When our eyes met and the intensity of his passion hit me, my orgasm slammed into me. I just about screamed, but my cry was almost that loud.
I didn’t close my eyes because I wanted to see his face, while my whole body trembled with sensations I couldn’t begin to do justice to explain. A whoosh of heat and the feeling that every nerve ending was on fire.
My core contracted as he continued to thrust. Then he gave a shout, with a few final thrusts, and I spasmed even more, my channel gripping him as he throbbed inside me. I swear I felt every pulse, like it was in my veins.
Whoa. Muscles wouldn’t be supporting me much longer after that orgasm. Or orgasms—mine and his.
He drew me to him just in time or I would have hit his chest hard.
Donovan held me tight, the side of my head to his heart as we both breathed hard and unevenly. His heartbeat was as crazy as mine.
When I could finally catch my breath, and some of my strength came back, I rose and met his eyes. “Let’s try it with whipped cream now.”