Hidden Summit (Virgin River #17)(28)

“What if I don’t take real good care of you?” she asked him.

He looked surprised. “Not possible.” He put his lips against hers, and then in a remarkable move, never breaking the kiss, he shifted her weight until she was sitting on his lap again. With one arm behind her and the other under her knees, he lifted her. “Which way?”

“Left,” she said.

When he reached her bedroom, he stood at the side of the bed, holding her, looking down. The comforter was folded back, the pillows fluffed. “Perfect,” he said. And he slowly lowered her.

Leslie lay on her bed in her jeans, socks and opened blouse and watched as Conner went through the ritual of emptying his pockets onto the bedside table. He took out condoms and wallet; his watch joined them. Then he pulled off his shirt and opened his belt. It was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen, his process of getting ready for her. But it was hard to concentrate. He had an enormous bulge in his dress pants. And when he lowered the pants, leaving only black boxer briefs, it was all she could do not to gasp.

He knelt on the bed and gently touched her, his fingertips gliding over her lips, then her neck and br**sts, her belly. Then he opened her jeans and gave them a little tug. She lifted up so he could draw them off, and he groaned at the sight of her transparent lace panties. He tossed the jeans and ran a finger around the elastic. “God,” he muttered.

She reached for the waistband of his briefs. “Come on,” she said. “I’m cold.”

“You won’t be cold for long,” he said. And he quickly got rid of his boxers, removing the mystery. She bit on her lower lip to keep from saying, Wow. It was a little intimidating. Very large. Very hard.

He sat down on the bed and pulled her into a sitting position. He pushed the opened blouse and unsnapped bra over her shoulders. “Let’s get rid of this,” he said, his voice gravelly.

“And these?” she asked, her hands going to her panties.

“Not yet,” he said. “Not yet.” He ran his finger under the elastic again. “Let me play with these awhile. God, Leslie. What an incredible beauty you are.”

“Because I say no to pie,” she weakly informed him.

“No, you can still take on plenty of pie and be beautiful. But, my God, I’m losing my mind.” He ran his fingers under the elastic at her legs, first one, then the other. “Hmm, you’re killing me.”

“We can take them off,” she offered.

“Not yet,” he said. “Let me have my fun.” And then his hands were spreading her, and his fingers were moving into that very personal territory beneath the panties. Of course she was completely ready. Swollen and hot and wet. He leaned down to her lips just as he let one finger slide into her, and his kiss carried a deep throaty moan with it. “Man, I’m having a very hard time waiting for you.”

“You don’t have to wait,” she offered. And without meaning to, without planning to, her pelvis rose into his hand. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to wait long.”

“Good,” he said, nibbling at her lips. “Good.” He sat up again and slowly, tenderly, drew down those lace panties. She was waxed except for a small patch on her pubis. He met her eyes, smiled, lifted one brow. “Maybe I should see your barber.”

She reached out and touched his mustache. “Don’t you dare.”

He tossed the panties and reclined, pulling her into his arms, holding her close. His hand was on her again, now rubbing that sensitive little bump that brought all the joy of the universe to her. “Stop,” she whispered. “I can’t wait if you do that.”

“Ready?”

“I’ve been ready since you brought me lantana in three colors.”

His laugh was a deep rumble. “I knew when it got down to it, you were easy.” He rubbed more ferociously. He put a finger inside and rubbed with his thumb.

She reached for him, filled her hand with him and said, “So, you wanna play dirty?” She stroked him. Not gently. She brought deep noises from him, and he pinched his eyes closed.

He kissed her again, deeply, wetly. “Dirty is the only way I want to play.” But he pulled his hands and lips away and went after that condom, suiting up. Then he covered her body with his, holding his massive weight off her. With a gentle knee, he parted her legs. “I just can’t right now. I’m on a pretty short leash.” And again he touched her with his fingers, getting her hotter than hot.

With slow and smooth searching, he found her and let himself inside just a small amount, checking her reaction. She nodded at him, and he pushed in a little more. Again she nodded and again he gave her more. Then he took her mouth, his tongue playing with hers, and he slid all the way in. She gasped.

“Okay?” he asked her.

“God,” she whispered. “Okay,” she said weakly.

“Tell me if it’s not comfortable. Don’t put up with anything that feels wrong.”

“God,” she said again. “It feels right....”

And she saw the crinkles at the corners of his eyes along with his smile. Then he began to move in and out, slowly. Too slowly. He kissed his way down her neck, across her collarbone, over her breast and pulled a nipple into his mouth. In and out.

She rose against him. “More.”

“Try this,” came his throaty whisper. “Just try it this way. Let me get you there nice and easy. Let it build. Then when it’s time—”