two to look him over, to appreciate the beauty of his body, the solid muscles and impressive proportions, but he didn’t give her the chance. He stepped between her legs and placed a soft kiss on the side of her neck.
“I want you, Hope,” he said as he kissed a trail along her collarbone. “You’ve driven me crazy wanting you.” He kissed the inside slope of her breast. She arched her back and he said, “Crazy thinking about this.”
He kissed the very tip of her nipple, then rolled it beneath his tongue. Hope’s eyes closed as a shudder ran up her spine. Dylan licked her like the ice cream he’d talked about earlier; then he sucked her taut flesh into his hot, moist mouth. He drew on her as his hand moved beneath her skirt and between her thighs. He cupped her there, pushed his palm into her crotch, and softly squeezed. He moved to her other breast and popped her nipple into his mouth. His hand slid to the inside of her thigh, and he slipped his fingers beneath the edge of her panties.
“You’re wet,” he whispered as he touched between her legs, feeling her where she wanted it most, where she was slick and where his touch made her greedy for more. “I want inside you.” With each caress, each stroke of his hand, he brought her close to orgasm. He pulled her panties down her legs, and said, “You’re wet, and I’m extremely hard.” He dropped the twisted cotton on the floor. “I think it’s time.”
As Hope wiggled out of her skirt, Dylan grabbed a condom from the box on the counter behind her. She kicked the skirt free of her feet and watched him roll the thin latex down the length of his thick shaft.
“Come here,” he said and she wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. He slid her off the counter and onto the warm head of his penis. He glided himself to her opening and shoved up as he pushed down on her thighs. He didn’t get far before a stitch of pain penetrated Hope’s lustful haze and she cried out in distress.
“Shhh, it’s okay,” he whispered, and with her held tight against him, he moved to the kitchen table. “I’ll make it all right. I’ll make it good for you.” He laid her on the cool wooden top and her hand landed in the white cake. The cake skidded to the far side of the table, but neither cared. He leaned over her and kissed her neck and breast while he put her feet on the table and pushed her thighs wide. He rocked his hips, slowly thrusting into her, easing his way further and further until he was buried to the hilt. His groan was a deep rumble that came from the pit of his soul.
“Goddamn,” he swore and he tangled his fingers in her hair. “Are you okay?”
Hope could honestly say she didn’t know. She’d never experienced anything quite like Dylan Taber, and then he moved and it was like white-hot lightning danced across her skin. Her gasp turned into a moan as he pulled back and thrust deep. The heat gathered between her legs and spread across her belly and breasts like a flash fire. He filled her completely, touching her so deeply that she felt utterly consumed by him.
She raised her hands to the sides of his head, getting frosting on his jaw and in his hair. She lowered his face to hers. “I’m better than okay,” she said and kissed his lips.
He kissed her long and deep as he moved over her, slipping in and out with a slow, even rhythm that built up and up until neither could hardly breathe at all. He pulled back far enough to look into her eyes, and his breath became ragged with the punctuating thrust of his hips. Every nerve ending in her body was alive and tingling with warm liquid pleasure, pushing her up, up, up toward release. It built tighter, hotter, the pleasure curling her toes. And then it pulled her completely under. Wave after wave seared her from her head to the bottom of her feet and she cried his name.
She grasped his bare shoulders and clung to him as the walls of her body pulsed around him. It went on and on like nothing she’d ever experienced in her life. He moved faster, harder, pumping into her again and again until the air whooshed from his lungs as if he’d been smashed in the chest and his muscles beneath her hands turned to stone.
In the aftermath, the only sound was that of heavy, spent breathing. Their skin was glued together and neither seemed to have the energy to lift themselves off the table. Dylan’s forehead rested next to Hope’s right ear and his fingers were still tangled in her hair. A warm, fluttery afterglow settled on her flesh and she turned her head and kissed his temple.
“My God,” he moaned. “That was amazing.”
Hope smiled. She thought so, too. He’d just given her the most amazing sex of her life. It wasn’t love. Hope knew the difference between sex and making love. What he’d given her was the most incredible orgasm of her life. No, it wasn’t love, but it had been wonderful. He was wonderful, too.
Chapter Eleven
Dylan leaned a bare shoulder into the doorframe and raised his coffee mug. He took a swallow and shoved his free hand into the pocket of his Levi’s. The morning sun spilled through the blinds, striping his bed with light and picking out the gold in Hope’s hair. She lay beneath a tangle of sheets, one arm thrown above her head, her face turned slightly into his pillow. Her breath was slow and steady in sleep.
Dylan rubbed the warm mug against his chest and watched her. She’d wanted him to take her home in the wee hours of the morning. Instead, he’d taken her mind off leaving.
It had been a while since he’d had sex. Even longer since he’d slept with a soft woman draped across him, and he didn’t know which he had missed most. Waking up with her warm curves pressed against him and her silky hair in his mouth was something he’d forgotten he missed. The other… he hadn’t forgotten that, he just hadn’t remembered it feeling so good.
In his life, Dylan had been with more women than he could remember. He wasn’t proud of his past, but he couldn’t change it. As a teenager, he’d been wild. In his twenties, he’d slowed down a bit. By the age of thirty, he’d certainly become more choosy, but he’d never really thought about the full ramifications of such an intimate act. It had taken his relationship with Julie to bring it home. It had taken a broken condom and the birth of his son to make him realize the full physical consequences, but beyond that, he’d discovered there were deeper emotional consequences, too.
Hope stirred in his bed and he watched her foot peek out from beneath the sheet.
Until now, he hadn’t been willing to risk it, but there was definitely something about Hope Spencer that made him forget about the consequences of becoming involved with her. Something beyond the scent of her skin and the taste of her mouth. Something beyond her beautiful body and how she made him feel.
Dylan liked her dry humor and sarcasm and laughter. He liked that she didn’t take a lot of bullshit. He liked her pink toenail polish, too.
He wanted to know more.
They’d made love three times last night. The first time fast and explosive, the second time slow and… explosive. The second time he’d taken his time, licking frosting from Hope’s nipples and munching peach slices that he’d placed on her breasts but had slid down her body to her thighs. She’d eaten cake from him, too. From his belly and lower. The third time the sex had started in the shower and ended in his bed.
And he’d do it again. He couldn’t seem to help it. He didn’t want to hurt Hope. He didn’t want to hurt himself or Adam, but he knew he’d be with Hope again. He’d thought one night would be enough. It wasn’t nearly enough. He’d have to be very careful.
Hope moved her hand and Dylan watched her slowly come awake. She blinked and her brows lowered.
“Good morning,” he said and pushed away from the doorframe.
She sat straight up as if she’d been doused by water. Her hair swung across one side of her face, and the sheet slipped to her waist. “Where am I?” she asked, her voice husky from sleep and a night spent using her mouth for something other than talking.
“If you don’t remember, then I didn’t do my job,” he answered as he moved to the side of the bed. Keeping one foot on the floor, he sat next to her and brushed her hair from her face. “Is it coming back to you now?”
She didn’t answer, but her cheeks turned pink.
“Here,” he said and held his coffee mug to her lips. “This might help.”
Hope took several deep swallows, then pushed the mug away. “You were supposed to take me home.”
Dylan lowered his gaze to her full breasts, her pink nipples beginning to pucker against the cold. “I guess I forgot.”
