Out Of The Blue (The Wrong Bed #12)(38)

And now she couldn't have it. "Zach…"

As if reading her thoughts, he kissed her; a soft, soul-searching kiss that touched her very soul. Her body took over, made its wants known. She was already pressed against him; it took little effort to slide her arms around his neck, even less to tip her face up.

"We have right now," he murmured. "We don't have to figure it all out this minute, it can be a problem for tomorrow."

True.

They did still have tomorrow. But didn't they deserve more than just one more day?

"You're cold." He ran his hands down her back. "We need to get back."

"I'm not cold." And she wasn't, those faint shivers he'd felt were something else entirely. "Kiss me." And because she couldn't wait, she tugged his head to hers and claimed his mouth.

"Keep that up," he muttered when they came up for air, "and I'm going to kiss every inch of you. Right here."

To ensure that was exactly what happened, Hannah nipped his jaw, then his ear. With a low groan, Zach roughly took her mouth. Thrusting her fingers into his thick hair, she opened her lips beneath his onslaught and sank into the heat of the passion that never failed to flare between them at the slightest touch.

"Here?" she murmured.

"Here." And he took them both down to the sand.

They were completely alone with the waves, the wind, the night sky. And with Hannah in his arms, Zach found he had everything he wanted.

Her mouth was slow and hot and demanding, making him forget about their uncertain and troubled future. They had now, right now, and he wasn't going to waste one precious second of it.

The pounding of the waves was in sync with the drum of pleasure beating through his veins, to the excitement he knew pounded through Hannah as well. Pressed so tightly to her, he could feel the erratic leap of her heart, could hear the dark, needy sounds she made as he ran his hands over her.

She spread his jacket over the sand, then looked at him as they faced each other on their knees. For a long moment, neither of them moved.

Then his palm covered her breast, possessing her, claiming her, and she arched her back, accepting, seeking more.

His thumb slid over just the very tip of her breast, teasing, but it wasn't enough for him, and if he believed the heat in her gaze, it wasn't enough for her, either. He pulled off her sweater, trailing his fingers lightly over the edges of her bra until he came to the front hook, which easily fell open under his touch.

Her gaze flew up to his, wide and glossy, and when his callused fingers rasped over her bare breasts she moaned and let her head fall back on her shoulders. He slid the silk completely off her, exposing her to the night sky and his own hungry gaze. Her nipples were hard and thrust up, two tight, begging peaks. He bent his head and curled his tongue over first one, then the other, while she quivered and whispered his name over and over again in a hoarse, needy voice. She clung to him, and pulled him down onto the jacket, so that she bore all his weight.

Cupping her face, he looked down at her, certain she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Her lips were open and swollen from his kisses, her bare skin creamy and lush in the moonlight. Her breasts, still wet from his mouth, glistened enticingly, and his feelings for her nearly overwhelmed him. "Hannah—"

"I know." Her eyes reflected all he felt and mirrored her own feelings back.

He kissed her mouth, her neck, then shifted, moving down to her bare, quivering belly. His hands slid over her thighs, her calves, then back up, beneath her skirt now, bringing the material up as he went, exposing her inch by inch to his hungry gaze. He put his hands on her thighs and opened them, settling himself between so he could see her panties, which were tiny, just another scrap of silk, easily moved aside.

"Zach?"

"Shh," he whispered, soothing her with his hands, running them up and down her legs. "I'm going to keep my promise. Every single inch, Hannah."

"I don't think—"

"No thinking allowed," he murmured huskily, bending to his task. He blew a hot breath at the juncture of her thighs and heard the breath back up in her throat. "I'm going to kiss you until you lose it. I want to watch."

"You—"

His mouth touched her then, and whatever she'd planned to say came out as a sigh of surrender.

She tasted like heaven, and she moved like it, too. Shifting wildly, panting, she went as crazy as he already was. He nibbled and stroked, getting hotter by the second, but it wasn't until he drew her into his mouth and sucked that she arched like a bow, shuddering shuddering, shuddering as her release rushed through her.

Slowly he softened the touch of his mouth, swirling his tongue over her as she came back to her senses. Lifting his head, holding her gaze, he adjusted her panties and slowly, regretfully, straightened her skirt. Before he could change his mind and take her again without protection—and the consequences be damned—he pulled her up and reached for her bra to close it.

"What—wait," she protested, trembling and damp. "I want you…"

The tension in his body was so tight that he thought his jaw might shatter. "We can't."

Her hands slid over him anyway, cupping him right through his jeans. He was hard and ready. "No protection," he managed through his teeth, trying to take her hands off him, but she wouldn't allow it.