He glanced down to find her shimmying out of her shorts, and then pushing down a scrap of satin silk. His cock ached against his zipper, straining toward the soft delta between her legs. He couldn’t remember a time he’d been so aroused by a woman.
He caught her hot-melted-caramel gaze as he gripped her waist. “You’re going to come again, Jenny.”
“I know.” She flipped his shorts open.
“I mean right now.” He pulled the foil packet out of his pocket as she jerked his shorts down. “Again.”
“Challenge accepted.”
He ripped the packet with his teeth as she yanked the black fabric of his underwear over his aching cock. The foil fluttered to the floor as she slid one cool hand down the shaft and grabbed the condom with the other. His balls clenched as she sucked her cock between her lips, wetting him before rolling the condom down the shaft.
His mind sizzled blank as she rose to her feet, anticipation lighting her eyes. He ran his hands down her hips and filled his hands with her backside. Lifting her up against the kitchen door, he hefted her into the perfect position. She opened herself with such eagerness that he was glad she’d already had an orgasm, that her sex gleamed with moisture, because he could help plunging into her hard, pinning her back against the door.
Then he didn’t think for a long time, giving over to his limbic brain, holding on to just enough sense until he heard the sound of her gasp again, until the first contraction of her second orgasm squeezed him over the edge.
He came up out of blindness into a garden of strawberries, and her still-damp hair pressed against his nose. His heart still raced in his chest, and he wondered if she could hear it where she stood, her cheek pressed against his shoulder, her arms slung loose around his waist.
“Oh…” she murmured into his throat. “…my.”
“Yeah.” A grin tugged at his mouth, and deeper. “Yeah.”
***
By late afternoon, Jenny wondered if there was a limit to the number of times a couple could make love in a day. If there were, she and Logan had not yet reached it. For even now, lying on their bed still wet from a shared shower, she wanted him to make love to her again.
She said, breathlessly, “How many times was that?”
Logan said. “Four. Five?”
“Six, I think,” she said, feeling like a cream-fed cat. “Not including our first time last night.”
“I count five.”
“Definitely six.” She splayed a hand over her belly and felt a slippery sheen of soap still on her skin. “The shower,” she said, counting backward, “the living room couch—”
“The hallway,” he said with a rumble in his voice. “Don’t forget the hallway.”
“Yes, the hallway,” she added, dreamily. “Then the deck and the kitchen.”
“Technically,” he said, “The kitchen only counts one for me.”
“Ah,” she murmured, her lips stretching in the most lascivious of grins. “Then it’s six for me, five for you.”
“You owe me one, Jenny.”
She lifted herself lazily on one elbow, rolled to her side to eye Logan, naked and flat on his back, the ripples of his abdomen gleaming with moisture. “Speak your pleasure.”
He looked up through heavy lids. “You’re going to kill me.”
“No, but I’d spank you if you like.”
He laughed, a bark of a laugh, and she realized that but for a rumble of humor here or there, that was the first time she’d ever heard Logan Macallister laugh out loud. She liked the sound. It was short and came from the hidden center of him, the man she didn’t yet know. It made her heart light to know that she’d given him pleasure, in more ways than just the one. Of course, that was a miracle, too. Her ex had never made her feel as incandescent as this. With her ex, it had been all work on her part, and more than once she’d had to find her own pleasure once he gave up trying to give it to her. Why hadn’t she recognized, earlier in the relationship, how very little he cared?
Because like every experiment, you believed if you tried harder, you could make it work.
She shook the thought out of her head. Now wasn’t the time to think about exes. She preferred to have Logan filling her mind, Logan and his magic fingers and his rolling laugh and his intense gaze.
Speaking of hot sex…she slid a finger down to his navel. “You haven’t answered me yet. About what you want.”
He seized her hand and brought it to his lips. “I have a thousand ideas.”
“Is that all?”
“But right now I could eat a horse.”
Jenny noticed the grumble in her own stomach, too. She frowned and thought of the empty refrigerator. “I think there’s some whipped cream in the fridge—“
“Save that for later.” He nipped the inside of her wrist. “I need more sustenance than whip cream.”
“I guess man cannot live on love alone, huh?”
The minute the words left her lips she wanted to suck them right back into her mouth. She saw the word register in his thoughts as internally she scolded herself up, down, and sideways. What the hell was she thinking, rattling this fabulous communion between them? Hot sex was a good thing, for both of them. It was the perfect solution to being stuck in a cabin with a hot guy for ten more days. Both of them got to enjoy themselves, and then leave before any discussion of commitment could come up. For the first time in her life, she liked easy banter, shared laughter, the lack of any serious conversation.
“My bad,” she said, sitting up. “When I’m wine-addled, or sex-addled, I lose control over my tongue.”
He slid to his side and ran a finger across her lower lip. “I like when you lose control.”
She grinned, grateful that he hadn’t withdrawn after her gaffe, pleased that she hadn’t blundered into destroying this new comfort and ease between them.
“Pancakes,” he said, his
