pushed herself to the back of the couch.
Hunter moved a little closer, stretching his arm across the back. “You okay?” he asked.
She nodded, gaze not leaving the screen.
The first attack came, and she jerked in reaction. Hunter covered her shoulder in comfort, and her hand came up to squeeze his. Her skin was soft and warm against his palm, and her fingers were delicate where they entwined with his own.
The story moved on until the hero and heroine were pinned down in the woods. They joined forces, and Sinclair sighed. Hunter had to admit this was a much better date movie than
He shifted closer still, so that their thighs brushed together. When, under gunfire, the hero and heroine finally came together to make love, Sinclair leaned her head on Hunter’s shoulder.
Unable to resist, he kissed the top of her head, and wrapped an arm tight around her.
By the time the action got bloody, she was burying her face in his chest. And, at the resolution, she relaxed, molding against his body while she tipped her chin up to look him in the eyes.
“Hey,” he said gruffly.
“Inspiring story,” she returned.
Neither moved away, and they stared at each other in silence, her eyes reflecting the longing in his blood.
“Your sister’s right,” he finally offered in a last ditch attempt to be a gentleman.
Sinclair didn’t answer, instead her hand crept up along his chest, finding the bare skin of his neck, and caressing it in a way that made him groan.
“My sister’s sleeping with your cousin,” she said.
Hunter didn’t understand the point, but he couldn’t formulate the right question.
Sinclair stretched up to kiss the corner of his mouth. “That means she can afford to be right.” She gave him a swift kiss on the center of his lips.
He automatically puckered in response.
“I, on the other hand, am in the mood to be very, very wrong.”
“So am I,” he breathed, scooping his hand beneath her bottom and easing her into a reclining position beside him.
His lips came down on hers with all the purpose in the world.
Then he stripped off her tank top, wrapping his arms around her bare back and pulling her breasts flush against his body.
“I want you so bad,” he rasped, kissing her collarbone, her breasts, the tight pebble of her nipple that he’d been watching for two long, painful hours.
“I’ve missed you,” she confessed. “I don’t care that we have to go back. I don’t care that it has to end.”
He slipped a hand beneath her sweatpants, beneath her satin panties, to her bare buttocks. “Nothing’s going to end tonight. Not for a very, very long time.”
She smiled up at him, her blue eyes turning to midnight sky as her fingers tugged his shirt from his waistband. “I want to touch every inch of your body.”
“Good.”
“I want you inside me for hours.”
“Better.”
“I want to make love so long and so hard…”
Hunter kissed her mouth, over and over, completely speechless with desire.
“What should I do?” she breathed.
“You’re already doing it.”
His hot gaze took in her bare breasts. He stripped off the sweat pants and stared at the satin panties he’d glimpsed earlier. He ran his hand down her thigh, along her calf, over the arch of her foot.
She managed to slip off his shirt.
Her hands went to his chest, stroking upward, pausing on his nipples. “I don’t think we’ll be waxing,” she said, and he chuckled at her joke.
He ran his hand up her calf again. “Somebody’s been waxing.”
“It doesn’t hurt that much.”
“Glad you’re tough.” He ran the hand back down. “Really glad you’re tough.”
“Smooth, huh?”
“Smooth as silk.” He trickled his fingers up her thigh, slipping them beneath her panties, teasing the smooth skin near the top.
Sinclair gasped at the sensation, arching her back, plastering her body against his, feeling the rough texture of his slacks against her thighs.
“You are amazing,” he gasped.
“You are…You are…” She didn’t even have words for it.
“Impatient,” he supplied, pushing his way out of his slacks.
“Thank goodness.” She smiled.
But he stopped, their naked bodies flush against each other. He rubbed a thumb across her sensitive lips, kissed them thoroughly, then rubbed it once more. “You sure you’re ready?”
She nodded. Her entire body tingled in anticipation. Hunter. She was getting Hunter again. Finally.
He stroked her thighs, parting them, then slowly pushed his way inside.
A powerful, unfamiliar feeling surged through her body. She tunneled her fingers into his hair, she clutched his back, arching against him, delving into their kiss until the rest of the world disappeared.
“Damn,” he muttered, pulling back ever so slightly, blinking his eyes. He glanced down to where their bodies met. “This has to last.”
“Make it last,” she whispered. Forever and ever and ever.
She kissed his forehead, his eyelids, his cheeks. Then she got serious again on his mouth.
His fingers moved to the small of her back. Then his hands cupped her bottom and he rocked her pelvis as his hard length moved in and out. The low buzz in her body ratcheted up to a roar. Shots of sparkling heat radiated out from her center. Her breath came in small gasps against his lips.
Her hands fisted on his back. Her thighs tightened, her eyes fluttered closed, and she rocked herself hard into his rhythm.
“I…can’t…” she panted. “Oh…please…”
He lifted her ever so slightly, changing the angle, making her eyes pop open in wonder.
They both stilled, faces mere inches apart, staring at each other, gasping the same air. And then he moved, and she groaned, and her universe contracted to the place where their bodies were joined.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tight, inhaling his scent as deep as she could manage, tasting the salt of his skin, feeling his taught muscles surround her and block out the world.
They both made it last, refusing to give in to the ultimate pleasure as the minutes ticked by and slick sweat gathered between their bodies.
Hunter’s name began pounding in her brain. An exquisite pulse started low, becoming more insistent, forcing a moan from her lips and making her hips buck uncontrollably.
He whispered her name, and she was lost.
He followed her, her name on his lips over and over and over again.
They switched to the bed and made love again. Sinclair clung to him with all her might, wishing she could hold off the morning.
But when they finally separated, gasping and exhausted, the sun was an orange glow on the horizon.
“Now
“Your family should really stop trying to beat those impulses out of you.”
“You want to tell them that?”
“I do. Hand me your cell phone.”
He did.
She pressed Jack’s speed-dial button before Hunter whisked it out of her hand.
“I thought you were bluffing,” he said.
She grinned. “And I thought you could wrestle a six-foot alligator.”
