Chapter 6
Chapter Six
She leaned in with him. His warm breath dusted her skin a moment before their lips met. This kiss was better than the last—and that one had been pretty damn good. Maybe because they’d overcome adversity together. Or because they’d confessed their secrets to each other.
His tongue stroked hers, hot and wet. His scent invaded her nostrils, a spicy tinge from his fading cologne. She returned his kiss eagerly, anchoring herself to him…since her head felt like it might float away.
Outside, the wind howled. It pushed against the glass windows, rattled the vents.
She opened her eyes, but his were still closed. She admired the long eyelashes shadowing his cheeks. When he finally pulled away, he swallowed, almost nervous. She had to reframe what she had assumed about him.
Bad boy. But not a typical bad boy. An Evergreen Cove bad boy.
The Cove made bad boys into good men—she’d seen it time and again.
The tattoo artist-turned-children’s-book-illustrator, the guy who built fireplaces, the soldier who patented a lavender plant.
Even the rock star, the unlikeliest to settle down, had made his home here.
One by one, they had succumbed to love and yet never truly shook their bad-boy statuses.
For a long while, Lynx didn’t move. Neither did she. His fingertips still rested against the nape of her neck. Her palm was still on his denim-clad thigh. It was like the pendulum swing had frozen at the top.
They had no other choice but to let it drop.
“What’s going through your head, future romance writer?” he rasped.
“The snowed-in trope. It’s very popular among readers. And a favorite of mine.”
“Is it, now?” His voice was low and gravelly. “Are we writing our own snowed-in romance tonight, Stacks?” He pushed a stray curl away from her forehead. “And just how dirty is this book of yours?”
“It’s…” She dared herself to say what she was thinking. “It’s explicit.”
“Damn, I’m happy to hear that.” He grinned as she pushed him to his back and straddled him. He was hard and ready, and she rubbed her center against his denim-covered cock. He groaned beneath her, turning her on even more. “You’re sure?”
“Stop making sure I’m okay, Dane.” She unbuttoned her blouse and tossed it aside. “And touch me.”
He reached for her bra when she bent to kiss him. Soon, his warm hands were fondling her breasts as she rode him over his clothes.
“Fuck, you feel good.”
“Take off your sweater,” she commanded.
He pulled his sweater and T-shirt off together, turning them inside out and tossing them aside. Her hands went to the sculpted muscles of his chest and then ran down the bumps of his abs. “Oh my.”
“Oh your what?” With some effort, he grasped her, his arm at her back and laid her flat on the beanbag opposite his. Then his mouth covered her breast and sucked a nipple.
“Oh my God,” she said.
“That’s what I like to hear.” He moved his mouth to her other breast as he fumbled with her belt. She helped him, going as far as to unbutton her jeans. He didn’t hesitate, plunging his hand into her panties and finding her wet and ready.
“Yes, there!” She clutched onto his shoulders for purchase, her eyes rolling up to the pockmarked ceiling tiles. When she rested her head back, the bookshelves loomed over her in a funhouse style, making the moment seem all the more disorienting, and not in a bad way.
Lynx suckled her nipples as he played her clit. Fast and then slow, testing what she liked. When she cried out, he settled on the spot and continued his intimate massage until she clutched onto him and came.
Her orgasm blasted through her like a rocket, igniting every part of her, from where his fingers rested to the top of her head.
When she resurfaced, he was on his knees and pulling her jeans off inside out.
He left her boots on, spread her knees apart, and dove face first into the space between her thighs.
She was trapped in the most exquisite way.
His arms rested over her legs while he laved her over and over.
Slow then fast, teasing another orgasm out of her with little effort.
And when that one erupted, it only made room for another.
She held onto his hair for purchase, lifting and dropping her hips against his erotic assault.
“I’m…going…to…die,” she panted. “Lynx. Fuck me. Fuck me, please.”
He lifted his head, his lips glistening as they parted into a grin. “Yeah?”
“I’ve…never said that before.” She smiled back. “But I’ve written it.”
“Remind me to read one of these books of yours.” He kicked his boots off and stripped.
Her mouth went dry at the sight of him. Those perfect V’s at his hips, muscular thighs, bare chest. And his cock—God help her.
It was beautiful and pointing at the ceiling.
Holding a promise of pleasure like she’d never experienced.
He stroked it once, twice, and she whimpered. She reached up to pinch her own nipples, unable not to touch herself while she was this turned on.
“Jesus. Are you trying to kill me?”
“Maybe a little.” She grinned.
He reached for his leather jacket and pulled out a row of condoms. She was grateful for his preparedness. She certainly didn’t have any prophylactics on hand.
He tore one of the condom wrappers with his teeth and spit it to the ground. It fluttered off to the side. She made a mental note to pick it up after.
When he lowered over her, he did so with so much care she felt emotion well up in her throat. His eyes on hers, he stroked the hair at her temples. “You have to be sure you want to do this with me, Hazel.”
“I am.” She held onto his shoulders as he eased his hips toward hers. “I am.”
“I don’t want you to regret today.”
She lifted her head and, her lips grazing his, whispered, “Not a chance. Do what I told you to do, Dane. Don’t make me beg.”
He continued staring into her eyes. She watched the heat engulf them, but still he held himself over her. “You don’t have to beg. But say it, one more time. For me.”
“Fuck me,” she whispered, and then she shouted in ecstasy when he drove into her to the hilt.
On her back, blanket covering her cooling body, Hazel turned her head to take in Lynx.
He was on his own beanbag, one leg entangled with hers, no blanket. His impressive cock rested against his belly. “Hey. I’m up here.”
She jerked her eyes to his.
“If you say that was ‘not bad’ you might demolish me. Soul and all.”
She rolled over and propped her head in her hand. “That was incredible. Mind-blowing. Colossal. Phenomenal. Monumental.”
“I’d say you were exaggerating but, same.”
He laughed. She laughed.
She reached out a hand. He intertwined his fingers with hers. Then he tugged, encouraging her to lie on his chest. She went with nary an ounce of protest.
They’d had sex three times, stopping for a water and a bathroom break.
Clothes were everywhere. His boots and hers were tossed to one side, her bra and panties to the other. She had grabbed the condom wrappers—all three of them—and Lynx had disposed of them with the condoms.
They’d had fuck-me sex, then they’d had slow sex. Then she’d gone down on him and after, they’d had another round that was somewhere in between.
“You’re right. You’re not shy,” he told her. She wanted to punch the air in celebration.
“Don’t make me walk back those adjectives. I can take away ‘monumental’ like that,” she said with a snap of her fingers.
“No, you can’t. I’d know you were lying. I was present and accounted for during the whole thing.”
“I don’t know. There was a moment at the end where you might have had an out of body experience.”
“Are we arguing?”
“It’s called banter in romance. I’m a big fan.”
“I can tell.”
“The book I’m writing is filled with pages and pages of banter. It’s the least we deserve as women—lighthearted, easy-going, non-manipulative banter.”
“At the very least.” He placed a gentle kiss on the center of her mouth. “And if you would kindly point the way to the bastard who did the manipulating, I’ll knock his teeth out for you.”
“There was a time I would have given you his street address.”
“There was a time I would have left to drive straight there. As it turns out, I’m recently reformed.”
“How recently?”
“‘Bout fifteen minutes ago.” She watched as the confidence in his eyes was chased away and replaced with something else. He rolled onto his back and threw an arm over his forehead, his gaze overhead. The furnace kicked on, rattling the windows.
“Hey. What happened?” She patted his chest. “Don’t tell me we had sex and now you’re regretting it.”
“I don’t regret a damn thing.” He faced her. “I like you.”
“I hope so.” She snorted.
“I wasn’t finished.”
“Sorry. Go on.”
“I would like to keep seeing you.” He gestured toward the howling snowstorm. “After we get out of here.”
A sharp intake of breath caught in her throat. He’d been funny and charming and mysterious, but she hadn’t expected him to want to see her again—not really.
“Go ahead. Say it,” he invited.
“This might be the afterglow talking, but I want to see you again too.”
He licked his lips. “I’m a dangerous pastime.”
“I can handle you.”
He watched her, vulnerability in his expression. “I didn’t follow you here to sleep with you, believe it or not. I thought we were feeding a turtle and leaving.”
“A tortoise.”
“A tortoise. But I’m glad I followed you.”
“And glad you slept with me?”
“Really glad about that part.” He grinned.
She placed a hand on his chest and started again. “We can go on a real date. We don’t have to do things the way our parents did them. Or our siblings. I mean, I don’t have siblings. But I can imagine.”
“Be grateful to have escaped the constant comparison.” He took a deep breath. “I'm not a bad guy. Misguided, maybe. But I want to be the guy who shows up. The guy people expect to show up.”
She moved his hair away from his forehead, stroked his cheek, and kissed him softly. “I hate to break it to you, Lynx, but what do you call being with me here today? Because it seems like you’ve showed up.”
His eyebrows pinched.
“I can count on you to find keys and fuses. To tell awful jokes. To kiss me with singular focus and to wring at least five orgasms from me.”
“Seven,” he argued.
“Seven,” she agreed. “And you didn’t abandon me. Wouldn’t have, even if Ant hadn’t called and forbade you from leaving.”
“Like I was going to leave you here alone?” He asked that as if there’d been no other choice. But he’d had a choice. And he’d made it.
“That response alone points to how loyal and trustworthy you are. I’m not saying you’ve arrived, but you might want to give yourself some credit. I’m not an easy girl to bed.”
“You mean to beanbag.”
She smiled. “That either.”
“You were the one who took your shirt off and told me to f—”
She slapped her hand over his mouth. “I was caught up.”
He kissed the palm of her hand. “Yeah, me too. And I’m not the kind of guy who gets caught up.”
She kissed him, guessing that the kiss would escalate into more. Or maybe hoping was a better word.