Chapter Six
Curling against Donovan’s warm, muscled body, she recalled the moment when they had walked into his bedroom and he’d wrapped her into his arms. She’d never wanted the moment to end.
Now she was naked in his bed lying next to him.
Though she had considered a guest room, she’d hated the idea of being alone after the horrendous night. But as she’d slipped into his bed to wait for him, she knew there was more to it. She didn’t know whether it was the adrenalin rush, or some inexplicable attraction, but she wanted to be with him. Needed to be with him.
She’d tried to fight it.
She’d told herself she was being an idiot.
She knew nothing about him.
Just because he said the lodge belonged to him didn’t mean it was true. Maybe he’d been jumped because he was a conman and had ripped off the wrong people.
Now she was lying next to him and it felt absolutely right. At peace with her decision, she closed her eyes and drifted away…
She was in her car watching him being attacked by the two thugs. Though she was desperate to get out and run to help, the door was jammed. No matter how hard she pushed it refused to budge. She began to panic, then heard his voice from far away…
“Phoebe…Phoebe…wake up.”
Her eyes popped open.
He was staring down at her, a worried frown crossing his forehead.
“Donovan, thank God,” she panted breathlessly, “I was in my car and those two thugs were attacking you. But I was trapped. The door wouldn’t open.”
“It was just a dream and I’m fine,” he murmured, smoothing the hair from her face.
“Sorry.”
“Hey, you don’t have to apologize. It was a terrifying ordeal. Come here,” he said softly, laying back down and holding her. “No-one can get to either of us here.”
Melting against him and taking a long, deep breath, she began to settle…until she felt his hardness pressing against her.
Her heart skipped a beat.
She’d never met anyone like him.
A man of mystery.
A man surrounded by danger.
“Phoebe…” he said softly, “you’re beautiful, but you’re also difficult.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, butterflies in her stomach suddenly fluttering to life.
“You’ve got a gorgeous ass,” he continued, not answering her question but sliding his arm down her back and gripping her left cheek, “and it needs to be spanked. You, Phoebe, need to be spanked.”
She caught her breath.
How did he know her secret?
“Tell me I’m wrong,” he growled, clutching her hair and tugging her head back.
“I…uh…n-no,” she stammered, every nerve in her body sparking.
She thought she’d come to the aid of a well-heeled businessman, but Donovan was a herculean tough guy? His lips suddenly fell on hers, and as he thrust his hand between her legs she knew there was no turning back.
* * *
Even through the chaos the night before Donovan had seen the frustration and hunger in her eyes.
She was a strong woman.
A smart woman.
An independent woman.
A woman who needed more than kind words and a gentle touch.
She’d been waiting for a man like him her whole life.
A man who wouldn’t put up with her bullshit.
A man who would make her whimper with need.
A man who would ravage her until she was breathless.
Releasing her hair, he straightened up and flipped her over.
“Rest on your elbows,” he ordered, grabbing her hips and jerking them up.
Her ass was gorgeous, full and round, begging to be slapped. He landed the first smack, then quickly delivered the second to her opposite cheek. As he watched his hand print flower to life, he delivered two more on each side eliciting a squeal.
“If you don’t want this tell me,” he ordered, smacking her again, then thrusting his finger against her clit, he added. “Be straight with me. It’s okay if you want to bail. There are no strings. You can still stay here until it’s safe to go back.”
“I…uh…” she mumbled, then let out a long moan.
“It’s a simple question. Yes or no.”
“Yes, I do, I want it so much.”
With his lips curling in a wicked smile, he leaned past her and lifted a condom from the nightstand drawer. Deftly sheathing his thick shaft, he placed himself at her entrance and prodded. She was tight, and he slowly pushed into her slick warmth. But he stayed buried, luxuriating in the moment. Finally pulling back, he was about to thrust when she moved her hand against her sex.
“Next time ask,” he ordered gruffly and slapping her again. “Understood?”
“Yes, yes, sorry.”
“And if you’re going to rub yourself, make it count.”
She muttered something he couldn’t understand, but he didn’t care. Relishing the luscious feel of her tight, soaked passage, he stroked for several, long minutes, savoring her gasps and utterances of pleasure. But his rabid hunger for release began to take hold. Clasping her waist, he quickened his pace.
“Donovan…I’m so close…”
He was tempted to slow down and make her wait, but her body tightened and she suddenly wailed. As she bucked back and began shuddering through her orgasm, he quickened his pace, and a moment later surrendered to his powerful climax.
* * *
Though completely drained, Donovan’s mind refused to let him rest.
Had crossing paths with Phoebe been happenstance?
The timing had been perfect—almost too perfect.
Though he didn’t like his overly suspicious nature it had saved him more than once.
But he couldn’t deny the chemistry between them.
Reminding himself Sam would be calling with a full report on her in the morning he pushed his doubts aside…at least for the moment.
Sometimes miracles really did happen.
He knew that too.