Chapter Forty-Four
Strong hands lifted Jane from the driver’s seat.
Chance pulled her onto his chest as though she were light and graceful.
His next fluid movement dropped the back of his chair.
She became acutely aware of their proximity, and had this compromising position happened any time before today, she might not have enjoyed it as much.
But she did, reveling in the way he stared up at her.
“You approve of the trail I picked?”
His hands rested on her hips. “I would’ve been good with whatever you wanted.” His fingers squeezed. “But this one had my vote.”
Jane angled closer and breathed him in. His scent had mixed with the outdoors, and a memory flashed of her first night with him in Syria. His lips brushed hers, and she melted against his mouth, falling prey to its infinite sweetness.
She let herself go. Heat built into their kisses. Her body hummed. His hands and tongue explored her. Unguarded, she basked in his touch and sought to bring him a fraction of the pleasure washing through her.
Chance nuzzled her ear. “Damn, Jane.”
She appreciated the tremor of hunger in his voice, understanding she’d caused his reaction. “I like the way you sound.”
He kissed her as though he had never done so before today and might never have the opportunity again.
Chance tasted like heaven and felt like a haven.
Her palms explored the slope and angles of his muscles sculpted through blood, sweat, and tears when lives had been on the line, and gratitude filled her.
Chance reached into her haphazard ponytail and tugged the band free.
Her hair swooped down, covering their faces like a curtain closing over a stage.
He moderated their frantic kisses with lazy, maddeningly sensual circles of his tongue.
Desperation flooded her veins. Their clothes hindered skin-to-skin contact.
She craved the sensation of their bodies becoming tighter; her soft, sensitive thighs sliding over his powerful masculine ones.
Needy rumbles purred between them. Jane rocked her hips, savoring the friction of his engorged cock against her sex.
With more deliberate motion, she rubbed against him.
He sucked in a sharp breath. His palms gripped her ass and held her in place.
Chance flexed against her, grinding his erection with identical speed and pressure—except he was in charge.
Jane gasped. Her eyes opened and met his as he held her in place.
She didn’t know it was possible to feel so in control of what she wanted, yet simultaneously so completely and so gratefully controlled.
“How do you do that?” she gasped.
Chance wrapped his arms around her back, cocooning her in his hug. He whispered, “Do what?”
Explosive tears caught in her throat. She had wanted to rip their clothes off, but when he stopped stroking his cock against her, she simply wanted to crawl inside his strength and burst. “Take me from zero to a hundred.”
“Neither of us has ever been at zero together.”
That was the truth. Her hand touched his cheek. He let her explore, tracing the outline of his mouth and jaw.
He kissed the back of her knuckles. “I could watch you all day. Every day.”
In her mind, a faraway warning reminded Jane he would leave soon. This job was temporary. His home was a world away. Both promised he could never stay. But instead of listening to the little voice at the back of her head, Jane pressed her lips to his.
Who cared if he left tomorrow? Today, they were on the same page. They wanted, needed, and tasted each other. She’d never been so safe and fulfilled. Maybe the here and now was all that mattered.
Jane deepened her kiss and pushed her worries away. Chance would take care of her, and it felt so damn good to give up her role as the responsible one, the person who took care of everything and made sure she was protected, to just live and feel and be.
As though Chance could read her mind, his hands slid under her tank top.
His rough, calloused palms skimmed up her spine and held her in place against him.
She flexed onto him, rocking for the needed friction.
His fingers kneaded her back, melting her neck muscles and fueling the desperation in her core.
His hands curved around her ribs until the weight of her small breasts filled his rasping hands.
She writhed. Need spiraled deep inside her body. Arousal soaked her underwear. “Chance—”
A horn blared. Jane jolted upright. Not a car horn. A freaking air horn. Then, her world spun topsy-turvy. Her head spun, and she blinked until she could find her bearings.
They weren’t on the passenger side of the truck. The steering wheel wasn’t far from her face. Chance’s mountainous weight had her pinned beneath him. She struggled against his hand clasped over her mouth. She froze.
She didn’t have his attention. Lying prone, he searched the mud-splattered window. His hand held a gun.
Where the freaking hell had that come from? And, more importantly, what the fuck was happening?
Chance repositioned, fruitlessly searching out the windows. “Stay down.”
A metallic thump echoed from the back of the truck. Before she could freak out, Chance rolled out the passenger door in one fluid motion. His fierce face and drawn handgun pointed toward the woods, leaving Jane to watch whatever might happen.