Reckless Hearts (Oak Harbor #2)(26)
Time slows as Will reaches to caress my cheek, and I inhale in a shudder, feeling the slow snaking fire ignite in my bloodstream; seeing the intensity in his hazel gaze.
When he kisses me again, he takes all the time in the world.
Slow and leisurely, and hot as the summer’s afternoon. I melt against him, sliding my hands up to tangle in his wet hair, tasting and touching, letting our tongues softly caress, so sweet, I could lose myself in the moment and never come up for air. I wrap around him, feeling his wet shirt against my bare skin and the heat from his body beneath, every breath, every movement rippling through my body in an intoxicating rush.
God, how can this feel so good? I gladly surrender and give myself over to the storm of sensation, the simple pleasure of his touch. There’s more heat, more desire, just from kissing this man that I’ve ever felt before in my life.
What else can he do to me . . . ?
His mouth moves over mine with a dizzying sweetness, easing my lips apart and biting down softly on my lower lip with a nip that makes me moan. Will stiffens at the noise, and drags his mouth from mine, breathing fast. “I need to get you out of this creek,” he says, his voice rough, eyes dark with need.
I hold his gaze, my blood singing. “And I need to get you out of these clothes.”
I’m not sure how we manage to keep our hands off each other long enough to rescue our bags from the sinking boat and swim back to shore. We’re both wet through, but neither of us care as we pile into his truck and take off, Will pushing the speed limit on the winding country roads until at last, he pulls up in his front yard and drags me from the passenger seat.
“I told you, I have running water now,” he says, a wicked smile on his face. He claims another kiss, hard and fast, until I’m panting, then pulls me after him, straight through the front door and up the stairs. We don’t make it to the top before he shoves me up against the wall and captures my mouth with his, hands roving freely now over every inch and curve.
God, I want him.
I yank his wet T-shirt over his head and toss it to the floor, kissing wildly at his neck, his chest, those delicious planes of golden, taut muscle. Will muffles a groan, and then his mouth is on me again, tugging my bikini top aside and licking across my bare breasts in a hot, delicious swoop.
I fall back against the wall, gasping as he teases me, lavishing my sensitive nipples with rasping, soft strokes until I’m writing against him, desperate for more. “Will,” I moan, shaking, and I feel him smile against me, enjoying the sweet torment until finally he closes his lips around one taut nipple and sucks.
Hot pleasure rushes through my whole body, and I moan again, louder, hearing the raw sound of my own desire ring out in the empty house. For a moment, it’s like I’m watching from outside myself—half naked, head back against the wall, seeing his tongue slide across my breasts in turn. It’s hot, so hot I can feel the tension twist between my legs, aching until I can’t take it anymore. I drag his face back up to mine and kiss him with everything I have.
Will pins me back, wrapping my legs around his waist and carrying me easily up the last remaining stairs and down the hall while our mouths devour each other, desperate for one more taste. We slam back through the bathroom door, and Will doesn’t even pause, he reaches blindly to turn on the shower, and then pushes me back, right under the spray. The water is cold to start, sharp against my skin, but I don’t care. All I want is him, all of him—as close as I can get.
Hot mouths and pressing bodies and god, his tongue, sliding deep into my damp mouth. I’m lost in the storm of sensation as the water pulses down on us, and I never want to come up for air. Will grips my hips and I moan into his mouth, arching up, feeling him hard against me. I reach for his belt, and shove his wet jeans down. He kicks them away, and then he’s hard in my hands, so f*cking hard and thick, I shudder with anticipation just to touch him, running my fingers over his shaft as Will lets out a groan.
“Not so fast.” Will suddenly spins me around, pushing me face-first against the slick tile and pinning me in place with the hard weight of his chest. “We’re going to take our time. God, I’ve dreamed about your body,” his voice rasps in my ear. He slides one hand over my breast, squeezing now, closing his fingertips around my aching nipple to pinch and tease with delicious friction. I whimper, pressing eagerly against his hands. “You’re perfect, every damn inch of you, it’s been driving me crazy to stay away.”
Will slowly unbuttons my cutoff shorts from behind and slides them lower, peeling my bikini bottoms away as he goes. I reach to help him, but he snatches my hands away, pressing them back on either side of my face, palms to the wall.
“No,” he murmurs, trailing his fingertips down over my naked body in a shivering path. His chest presses against my back, my body molded to fit against him. “Don’t move. You stay right there. I promised you, I’m going to give you everything you need, and baby, it starts right now.”
My legs go weak at the sinful promise, and I brace myself against the shower wall. Will’s hands slide over me from behind, the water pulsing hot now, beating down on my aching flesh. He kisses the back of my neck, my shoulders; his fingers searching, skimming over my stomach and the hollow of my hip. It’s exquisite. It’s pure torment, knowing he’s so close—naked, but out of reach. I’m aching and breathless, shuddering to his touch.