When We Met (Fool's Gold #13)(47)

Angel straightened enough to wipe her face, and then he lowered his head and kissed her. His mouth was soft against hers. Comforting, she thought. He wanted the kiss to be comforting. But the second she felt his lips on hers, she wanted something else. Something more.

She shifted so she could wrap her arms around his neck and raised herself on tiptoe. She pressed against him and parted her mouth. Heat poured through her and left her hungry. Need followed. She tilted her head and lightly swept her tongue across his bottom lip.

Instantly his entire body changed. She felt the tension of his muscles and the slight hesitation, as if he wasn’t sure. Because he didn’t want to upset her or take advantage of her, she thought.

She drew back and looked at him. “You pick this moment to act like a gentleman?” she asked as she shrugged out of her life jacket.

A muscle twitched in his jaw. Without speaking, he walked over to the kayak and pulled what looked like a blanket out of the small hold. Probably for their picnic, she thought. How convenient.

As she watched, he let his life jacket drop to the ground. He unlaced his boots and stepped out of them. She felt a whisper of disappointment. So they were going to be civilized about this, she thought. Somehow she’d hoped for something more than each undressing, followed by a pleasant and polite round of sex.

She knew she was still emotional from what had happened on the river and her confession, but jeez, why did it have to be like this? Where was the passion? Why couldn’t she find a man who was swept away and—

He stopped in front of her. “You sure?”

She sighed, then nodded.

He reached for her and drew her against him, then he lowered his head and claimed her. Only there was nothing polite about the kiss. It was hot and deep and caught her completely off guard. His tongue plunged into her mouth and circled hers, making her wiggle closer.

His arms came around her, but he wasn’t holding on. Instead he was moving his hands up and down her body as if he needed to discover every inch of her that second. As if he couldn’t get enough. He was nearly frantic as fingers and palms traced her back, her rear, her hips.

Desire resurrected itself, heating her body and making it easy not to think. She wanted to feel, she thought as she relaxed into his kiss. She wanted to only feel. His hands, his body—all of him and all of her. She wanted to get lost in what they could do to each other.

He tugged on the hem of her T-shirt. She raised her arms so he could pull it off. Seconds later, her bra followed. He cupped her br**sts, exploring the soft skin with his fingers before settling on her ni**les. He rubbed the tight peaks, rolling the hard points between thumbs and forefingers. Pleasure shot through her, forming a direct line from her br**sts to her groin. Muscles tightened as flesh swelled.

She reached for his shirt. He drew back enough to pull it over his head and toss it away. His bare chest was broad with rippling muscles and at least half a dozen scars. Scars she would explore later, she thought, leaning in and kissing the center of his breastbone.

He gave her a quick, wolfish smile before dropping to one knee and unfastening her boots. He pulled them off. Still kneeling, he undid her jeans and pulled them down with a single tug that brought her thong along with them. He steadied her as she stepped out of them.

Taryn had the brief thought that she was now naked in the forest. She didn’t know where they were or how close they were to the road. Or even if the guy with the kayak trailer was going to show up any second. Then she decided she didn’t care. She wanted whatever was going to happen with Angel and the consequences be damned.

She waited for him to stand up, but he didn’t. Instead he put his arm around her and drew her close. He reached for the tender folds of flesh protecting her feminine center and parted them. She barely had time to brace herself before he gave her an openmouthed kiss that had her gasping.

The first stroke of his tongue explored. The second found her clit and the third had her hanging on to his shoulders to keep from falling.

There was no dignified way to stand barefoot while a man sucked and licked her to orgasm, she thought as she parted her legs more and dug her fingers into his shoulders. And she didn’t care. She let her eyes close and her head fall back as she gave herself over to the stroking.

He circled her steadily. Every third or fourth time he went a tiny bit faster and harder. He reached for her hands and positioned them so she was holding herself open for him. She could feel his warm breath on her skin and every now and then he ran his tongue across the very tip of her fingers.

Her leg muscles began to tremble. Her br**sts ached as every part of her focused on what he was doing to her. Tension grew, pushing her toward the ultimate goal. He cupped her ass with one hand and dug into her skin with kneading fingers. He ran the other up the inside of her thigh and pushed two fingers deep into her.

The invasion was exquisite. She wanted to sink onto him, drawing him in deeper, but she couldn’t move. She was already barely standing—her legs spread, her thighs shaking, and still he moved his tongue against her.

She was getting closer. So close, she thought, her breath coming in gasps. A few more strokes.

“Angel,” she gasped.

He pushed his fingers into her, then withdrew. Again and again. She was getting there. She could practically see it.

Then he stopped. All of it. His fingers went still, his tongue wasn’t moving. There was nothing. She hung there, her body ready, but with no way to—