Crystal Cove (Friday Harbor #4)(54)

Burning and disoriented, Justine gripped the edge of the table behind her as Jason lowered to his haunches. She bent her head, her hair falling in streamers around her face. She felt his cold hands high on her thighs, thumbs stroking upward to where the skin was thin and excruciatingly sensitive. The blushing folds were parted, held open. She jerked with an incoherent sound as she felt the startling chill of his mouth, his tongue against her tender flesh, stroking cool circles around the swelling peak. She sobbed with every breath, struggling to keep quiet, but it was impossible. She covered her mouth with one hand to smother a low cry, and pushed frantically at his dark head.

A slow, shameless lick across the delicate full ache … a hoarse murmur … and then he stood. He nudged her toward the bed, but her legs were too stiff to walk. Picking her up with astonishing ease, he carried her to the mattress and lowered her onto her back.

Her thighs opened in a wanton sprawl, her arms half curled and defenseless above her head. She was on the edge of cl**ax, red-faced and dazed. Reaching up for him, she drew him fully over her and pulled his head down. He kissed her, sending his tongue deep, and it felt so good that she moaned into his mouth. Widening her thighs with his knees, he entered her in a demanding thrust. Her knees drew up, her body buckling into the delicious masculine weight of him.

A sheen of sweat gave his skin a metallic luster, light gilding the paths of veins on his arms and neck. His eyes had closed, his brows drawing together as if he were in pain. He drove inside her with a fast, vehement rhythm, not holding back, and she didn’t want him to. She pushed back at him, lifting and lifting, her flesh ratcheting tighter around the thickness of him until both of them groaned and shuddered in pleasure, shocks searing through every nerve. Jason shoved deep and held, and she could feel the heat of his release inside her.

Eventually Jason rolled to his side, bringing her with him. His breathing had slowed, the movements of his chest steady and even. They were still locked together, the pulses and tremors of his flesh secreted deep inside her.

She was going to regret this later … but at the moment she couldn’t bring herself to care. She gasped as he withdrew from her. “Oh. You’re still…”

“Yes.” His tone was dry. “I’ve never taken Viagra, but as far as I can tell, you’ve managed to whip up one hell of a substitute.”

“I’m so sorry. I really, truly didn’t mean to do that to you.” At his silence, she asked tentatively, “Are you mad at me?”

“Yes. But it’s hard to focus on that when I’m drowning in endorphins.”

She smiled slightly and relaxed against him.

Idly he let the backs of his fingers slide over the upper slope of her breast. “You’re still on birth control?”

She nodded. “We broke your rule about condoms. I’m so s—”

“You don’t have to keep apologizing.” He caught the tip of her breast with his knuckles and tugged softly.

No one had ever held her for so long after sex, nor had she ever wanted anyone to. But Jason’s hands were gentle as he coaxed delight to uncurl softly inside her, blooms and blooms of it.

“This is okay as long as I don’t fall in love with you,” she heard herself say.

“But you will.”

That was enough to jolt her out of the euphoria. Pushing up on her elbow, Justine frowned at him. “No I won’t. The only reason I’m in bed with you is because you’re suffering from one of those four-hour emergencies they’re always mentioning on TV.”

“Caused by you,” he pointed out.

“Yes, and I’m trying to help. But I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t try to make this into something romantic or meaningful.”

His reply was gently arid. “What would you like me to do?”

Justine thought for a moment. “Tell me the worst things about yourself. Make yourself so unappealing that there’s no way I could fall for you.”

He gave her a dubious glance and pulled her from the bed.

Justine followed him to the bathroom. “Tell me some of your bad habits,” she persisted. “Do you leave wet towels on the bed? Clip your fingernails in the living room?”

“No.” Jason stepped into the shower and gestured for her to join him.

“Then what?” She stood beside him, shivering in comfort as the hot water streamed over her. “You’re not perfect. There has to be something.”

Picking up a bar of soap, Jason lathered his hands. “When I get sick,” he ventured, “I have the personality of a rabid bull terrier.” He began to wash her, his big, soap-slick hands moving over her body. “During a movie, I always point out plot holes while everyone else is trying to watch.” Noticing the growing smile on Justine’s face, he bent his head to steal a kiss. “Sometimes during an argument, I’ll pull out my cell phone to look up information to prove I’m right, and break back into the conversation when it’s no longer relevant.” He paused. “I leave empty containers in the fridge. Whenever there’s a dish of mixed nuts around, I eat all the almonds and cashews and leave the peanuts for everyone else. And sometimes when I can’t sleep at night, I randomly correct other people’s Wikipedia pages.” His mouth swiped over hers, absorbing the sounds of her laughter as if he could taste it. “Tell me yours.”