Extreme Danger (McClouds & Friends #5)(99)

Sorry. Hah. Part of him wanted to hoot with laughter. Another part wanted to seize the advantage quick, roll her over and f*ck her again.

Another part altogether took him entirely by surprise when it spoke up. “I thought you were running away from me,” he blurted.

Her sexy mouth fell open. She stared down at him, eyes wide, startled. “From you? But why on earth would I…how could you think that, Nick?”

He’d gone red in the face, was already regretting the stupid confession. He shrugged, almost angrily. “How the f*ck should I know how your mind works?” he muttered. “I haven’t had much luck with women. I thought maybe it was too much. Maybe I was too much.”

She shook her head, distressed. “That’s nuts, Nick! After all we’ve—after all you did for me! I wouldn’t run from you! I love…”

Her voice trailed off. Her eyes got huge, her white throat bobbing, as she realized that he knew exactly what she had almost said.

I love you. She had almost said it. And she had stopped herself.

The silence that thudded down around them had physical weight.

He broke eye contact. Whatever. Big f*cking deal. So she didn’t want to say the L-word to him. It was a lot to ask of the woman, all things considered. He couldn’t blame her. Hell, he was glad she hadn’t.

After all. What the f*ck would he have done if she’d said it? If she’d meant it? Christ. What a freaking responsibility. Who needed it.

He rolled her over onto their sides, so he could slide his cock out of her, look the other way, get rid of the condom. Think of something to say to break the tension of that awful silence, to make those goddamn unsaid words stop burning in the air between them in letters of fire. But he didn’t trust his voice yet. He didn’t trust his face.

There was a hollow feeling in his chest. It ached and burned.

She recovered first. “Nick, I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t worry about it.” He cut her off, without looking up, and sat back down on the bed so he could start prying off his shoes. “It’s OK. Take it easy. I wouldn’t have held you to it.”

He winced inwardly. Stupid thing to say. As if he could.

“No! That’s not what I meant!” Her voice sounded anxious. “It’s just that—”

“I understand.” He kicked his jeans the rest of the way off so they’d stop hobbling his knees, dug the strip of condoms out of his pocket. “It’s a weird time in your life. You’ve got a lot to deal with. So do I. So we keep it simple. Just sex. That’s fine with me, OK? That’s cool.”

“But I didn’t mean—”

“Becca, for Christ’s sake,” he cut in savagely. “Let it f*cking go.”

He kept his back to her, ignoring the hurt silence as he ripped a condom open, pried it out of its envelope. She grabbed his arm.

He turned. “Nick, I…oh, for God’s sake,” she finished, staring down at his erection as he sheathed it, with a swift, one-handed swipe.

“Let’s get back to that dent of yours,” he said.

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. I thought we’d moved on.”

Tell him about it. He’d thought so, too. He’d stopped himself just in time from embarrassing the hell out of her by throwing himself at her feet. Making a bunch of dramatic declarations. Jesus. Narrow escape.

But hey. That was no reason not to nail her another few hundred times. She definitely seemed to like that aspect of their relationship, whatever else might be lacking. Might as well accentuate the positive.

As long as he had the breath to hang on to her and the mojo to seduce her, he would. To the f*cking bitter end.

He reached around behind her, unhooked the bustier and lifted it reverently away from her gorgeous tits. The garter belt and stockings were welcome to stay, but he wanted to see those tits jiggle with each thrust. There were red marks in her soft, creamy flesh, from where the tight garment had pinched her. He stroked his fingertips over them.

“You’re evading me,” she accused him.

Evading himself was more like it. He grunted, shoved her legs open, folded them wide, and gazed down at the divine spectacle of her *. He loved the contrasts in color, the dark hair, the white skin, the slick pink and red of her inner folds.

She wiggled and made soft, breathless gasping sounds as he petted them, sliding his fingers inside to find the slick, hot fluid that he loved so much to lick, pulling the hood up off that tight, swollen pink clit with his fingers, to admire it. He rubbed his cock head against it, swirling it around and around her clit, and nudged inside the wet pink hole beneath it, shoving until her tender tissues were distended around his thick cock head, tenderly clasping him.

“Does this feel like evasion?” he asked.

Her amusement made her sheath contract rhythmically around his cock. “Hah. Smart-ass. Invasion is more like it.”

He invaded her some more, squeezing deeper into that quivering sheath. The teeth-grinding, heart-pounding excitement almost canceled out the ache in his chest.

She put her hands against his chest, dug in her nails, and pushed. “I’m not letting this go,” she said “Sooner or later, we have to talk about it. Just keep that in mind.”

He flexed his hips and drove the rest of the way inside. She let out a shocked gasp, her nails digging deep.