Chapter Seventeen #2
“Careful, Suit,” she teased, setting Bagel on the couch. “You keep saying things like that and I might start believing you.”
He stepped in, close enough that the lamplight struck a warm burnish on his throat. “Believe what?”
“That you mean it.”
“I mean it.” His hand lifted, hovered, then smoothed a curl off her temple like he’d been thinking about doing it since the luau. “I keep thinking I can be in control around you, but everything goes to shit the minute I’m close.”
“Control is overrated,” she murmured. Challenge sparked around them, but this time it was a physical sensation that buzzed through her blood and heated her insides. It was heady, sparring with him. Knowing they were moving closer to the finale. “Control is boring.”
A knowing smile ghosted his mouth. Her fingers itched to trace it. “I promise not to bore you.”
Then he was kissing her.
His mouth slid over hers with a lazy precision and just enough edge.
Rowan leaned into him, into the kiss, into the sensations of her body and the lure of belonging to this man who’d managed to hit her like a rogue wave.
Strong hands cupped her hips and smoothed over the bare expanse of skin exposed by her crop top.
She gave a tiny gasp at the electric heat of his touch, and he swallowed the sound, dragging her closer.
“God, you feel good. Taste good.” He nibbled her lower lip, dove his tongue deep to tangle around hers. “I feel like a kid with a present I’m dying to unwrap.”
She wrapped her arms around him, luxuriating in the strong muscled length of him. A laugh rumbled from her throat. “Aren’t you lucky it’s Christmas morning?”
Rowan loved his answering laugh, and then with one swift motion, he picked her up, never breaking the kiss. “Bedroom?”
“Back up. To the right.”
By the time they were in her room, she was already desperate for more contact. Setting her down, Everett reached for her top. “This is beautiful on you, but it’s blocking my view.”
Rowan lifted her arms so he could peel it off.
She wasn’t wearing a bra.
His sharp indrawn breath as he studied her bare breasts made her want to display herself like a peacock. Rowan had learned to love her body. She accepted her scrapes and bumps, her hard feet and her freckles. She was rarely shy unclothed, but she’d also never had a man look at her like Everett did.
Dark eyes lit with raw hunger. He raised one slightly trembling hand to trace the scroll of dark ink over her heart.
He whispered the words, almost reverent. “Find your line.” Rowan nodded. “What does it mean?”
His fingers caressed the ink, then her hard nipple. A shudder racked her. “That every wave has a rhythm—your job isn’t to fight it, it’s to find it. He thought life worked the same way.”
“Beautiful.” He lowered his head and kissed the tat, his tongue tasting her skin, his thumb tweaking her nipple.
She moaned and arched up for more, holding his head so he wouldn’t stop.
He moved to her other breast, then dipped lower to take one hard nipple in his mouth to suck and lick and torment.
Her control frayed and she tugged at the buttons of his shirt.
Finally, she ripped off the fabric and feasted on his gorgeous chest, all hard, carved muscles and dark hair.
Her nails raked lightly down and across tight abs.
“How are you able to look this delicious underneath all those proper clothes?”
He was already grasping the waistband of her pants and loosening them over her hips. “Control,” he said with a wicked grin, his gaze roving over every inch he unearthed. “Five a.m. cardio and weights. Am I boring you yet?”
She laughed with delight, loving his humor in the bedroom; the mingling of banter and sex fed both her mind and body. “Not yet.”
“Good.” He groaned as she unsnapped his jeans and tugged down the zipper. Pushing her hands beneath, she cupped his thick, hard length, unrestricted by underwear. “Sweetheart, if you don’t play nice, this is going to go much faster than I planned.”
“I never play nice.”
Rowan squeezed, rubbing up and down his smooth, hot cock, and watched him break.
With a muttered curse, he lifted her and pressed her down to the bed.
Breath ragged, his gaze devoured her as he ran his hands over her body, tracing the line over her red panties.
He took his time, deliberately slowing the pace, but she wriggled as the heat between her legs burned and dampened with demand.
He kept her pinned beneath him. “Thought you wanted to open your present and not stare at it, Suit.”
“God, you’re perfect. I could stare at you all night.” His index finger traced the line of her panties, slipping underneath to tease, but never getting close to where she needed it. “You know what else I love about presents?”
He kicked her legs apart but Rowan opened her thighs willingly. “What?” she ground out, blood on fire, fingers curled into fists.
“Anticipation.” He slowly ducked his head and ran his tongue down the center of her, licking at the lacy material in a horrific, wonderful torture that had her poised on the edge of orgasm.
“Everett!”
“There it is.” His dark eyes glittered with satisfaction and lust as he looked up her body. “Scream my name for me, Rowan.”
Tugging the fabric aside, his heated mouth licked her, sucking on her swollen clit, thumb teasing her entrance, and it was all over.
“Everett!” She came hard, heels pressed into the mattress, gripping his shoulders as the sweet waves of pleasure washed through her.
She took it all and let herself fly, body shattering beneath him.
He took her through every shock and shudder, slowly taking her down until she was collapsed on the bed.
“Fucking perfect.” He dragged off her panties and shoved his jeans down. Ripped a condom from his pocket and sheathed himself. Then pushed her knees up so she was completely open to him. “Fucking mine.”
The possessive words hit her the same time his cock thrust inside her.
Rowan closed her eyes at the tight fit, the way he stretched and took up all the space inside her. She shook in response, lifting her arms to grip his shoulders, tangling her fingers in his hair. Everett groaned, shifted, then pressed a few inches deeper.
This time it wasn’t a scream but a needy moan. “Everett.”
“That’s right, sweetheart. Let it all go.”
He took her mouth in a demanding kiss, tongue thrusting inside, matching each stroke with his hips.
The tension tightened and ached, building back with a steady pressure until she was arching hard and begging for more.
He quickened the pace. The headboard banged against the wall and the mattress shook and then Rowan was coming again.
He swallowed her cries and didn’t slow down. Then he tightened, ripping his mouth away to throw back his head. She opened her eyes and watched him break like a perfect wave, the beautiful lines of his face carved in pleasure.
They fell back to earth in a tangle of limbs and sheets.
He got rid of the condom, then rolled her into his embrace.
She rested her cheek on his damp chest. A deep peace fell.
Rowan rarely spent the night with anyone.
She liked to be alone when she slept, and protected her privacy.
She hated awkward small talk in the morning or the tension of lying with someone beside her.
Rowan waited for him to say he needed to get home for Kelsey.
She understood. It was one of the rules. It didn’t matter.
“Rowan?”