Sinful Longing (Sinful Nights, #3)(73)

“Contact sports,” he said, cupping her ass in his hands. “Seems you already violated that doctor’s order a few times.”

“Not enough though. Let’s violate it again.”

They had the rink to themselves. Camille had given Elle the key, and they were all alone, the game over and everyone cleared out.

Even though he’d never f*cked her wearing skates before, he was confident he could pull it off because he was an athlete, a risk-taker, and a man madly in love with the woman he wanted. But maybe they’d move off the slick hardwood and onto the carpeted floor.

He threaded his fingers through her hair and kissed her—a hot, wet kiss that had her shuddering in his arms and rocking her hips into him in no time. She moaned as he deepened the kiss until their mouths tangled together and became nothing but a fevered, hungry prelude to hard sex.

He needed that. Needed to reclaim her. To take her. To own her. To feel her body move in tandem with his. He craved that kind of sex as a sign that this reconnection would last. He believed it in his heart, and now wanted to experience it in his bones.

He spun her around, a task made easier with her on skates. “Hands on the railing, Skater Girl,” he growled, and she bent over in a perfectly glorious L. He inhaled sharply at the sight of her giving herself to him. She glanced back at him, licking her lips as he hiked up her skirt, then unzipped his shorts and pushed down his briefs.

“I missed all of you, including your cock,” she purred. She was his dirty-mouthed woman. His filthy talker, and God, he loved all of her—dirty words, strong body, witty mind and gorgeous heart. “Take off your panties, and show me how much you missed me. I want to see how wet you are.”

With one hand, she tugged down her pink panties to her knees, then she lifted her ass in the air and wiggled. His breath stopped as he stared at her beautiful body, ready for him. He grabbed her hips and sank into his heaven.

Then he picked up speed and f*cked her by the railing as rockers sang anthems about love gone wrong. But there was no love gone wrong here. It was only right, only true, only real.

Soon she neared the edge, and called out his name as the disco ball cast silvery lights on the floor. Before he could join her on the other side of bliss, she said, “I want to turn around. I want to look at you.”

“Then be prepared for me to give you another orgasm.”

They switched to a new position as he lifted her onto the railing at the edge of the rink. She looped her arms around his neck. “I always knew,” she whispered as he thrust into her.

“Always knew what?”

She grasped him tighter, pulled him closer, and tilted her chin. Her hazel eyes were full of so much love that he wasn’t sure he could last much longer.

“That I’d find my way back to you,” she said, and exhilaration tore through him. It sped through his body in a mad rush of savage ecstasy. He wanted her to find him always. He wanted to be her home.

“I’ll always be here.”

She was the only kind of intoxication he wanted anymore. He planned to stay hooked on her for all time.

She was the risk. She was the reward.

They came together once more.

*

Later she poured a lemonade from the tap at the snack stand.

“One virgin for you, sir,” she said and slid a red and white paper cup across the Formica. “Since that’s the only virgin you’re getting.”

He laughed and took a drink, then he set it down and laced his fingers through hers. “Hey. You think the bartender would go home with me tonight? I’ll bring you back here to get your car tomorrow morning.”

That sounded good to her, so she said yes as Foreigner’s “Feels Like the First Time” played faintly in the background. As the chorus repeated, it hit her. Tonight would be her first night with him. She’d never stayed over. She wanted all these firsts with him, and all the lasts, too. She wanted this man with a fierceness she hadn’t expected, and she was giving herself permission to feel it. To finally let herself have him. All of him, in all of her life.

“But do I have to get up at the crack of dawn when you go rock climbing or whatever crazy thing you have planned for tomorrow morning?”

“Only if you want to.”

She did want to. She wanted to make good on a wish she’d made. She wanted to turn a one-time maybe into a full-on yes.

The next morning, she asked him to take her kayaking.

Maybe some days you’ll want to kayak and some days you won’t, and whatever you want is fine by me.

The look in his dark eyes said that it was more than fine. That it was pure magic to share what he loved. And it became pure fun, too, when he taught her how to paddle in a kayak built for two. She didn’t flip over, she didn’t drown, and she didn’t slice her head on a rock at the edge of the lake.

After they pulled the kayak out of the water, she sank down on the edge of the lake, enjoying the clear blue sky of an early morning on the outskirts of Vegas. He draped an arm around her, and she expected a kiss to come next—maybe even a kiss that would turn into outdoor sex on a kayak.

Instead, his voice was intensely serious. “Elle, do you want me to quit?”

“Quit?” she asked quizzically. “Quit what?”

“Doing the adventure sports? Not kayaking, but the ones you worry about more. The rock climbing, hang gliding, mountain bike riding, and the skiing?”