Stone Cold Heart (Tracers #13)(60)

“Nolan.” She clamped her knees against his hips and pulled his head up to kiss her.

He eased back, and desire flashed in his eyes. “Can we—”

“Yes.”

He stood and pulled her to her feet, and she glanced down to see half her clothes on the floor. She started to reach for them, but he slid his arms around her, wrapping her in his amazing scent. She rested her head against his chest.

“Come on.” He took her hand and led her—topless—through his living room and into a dim hallway toward the back of the house. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. It was exhilarating. The air was cool against her skin, and she felt a heady mix of nerves and anticipation as he pulled her into his dark bedroom. She couldn’t see, but her leg brushed against something, and she knew they were standing beside his bed as he kissed her again. She savored the taste of him, loving his fingers on her bare arms and back.

She pulled away and watched him as she sank onto the bed and scooted back. Her eyes adjusted to the dimness as he bent down and took his boots off. Then the mattress creaked as he stretched out beside her.

“This better?” he asked.

“Yes.”

He eased on top of her, and she yelped.

“What?” He pulled back. “What’d I do?”

“Nothing. Just my rib.”

He switched on the lamp. “Jesus, Sara.”

She blinked down at her torso, where a red-purple bruise stretched from her sternum to her hip.

“It’s from the seat belt. It’s nothing.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Nothing? Are you crazy? You’re all banged up.”

“I’m fine.”

He reached a finger out, trailing it down her body, barely grazing her skin. He looked at her. “We don’t have to do this right now.”

She scooted over on the bed. “Lie down.”

“Sara.”

“Lie down,” she said with command in her voice. She wasn’t going to let this moment slip away.

He didn’t move for a few seconds, but then he finally stretched out on his side, facing her. He picked up her hand and kissed her knuckles, and the gesture was so sweet it made her throat tighten.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said.

“You won’t.”

She pulled her hand loose and nudged him onto his back. She got on her knees beside him and tugged at the hem of his T-shirt. He sat forward and pulled it over his head, then tossed it away. The muscles in his torso rippled as he leaned back on his elbows to watch what she did. She pushed her yoga pants down her legs, hopefully distracting him from her bruises, because all she had on now was a pair of black bikini panties.

“Sara . . .”

“Shh.” She straddled his lap, resting her weight on the hard ridge of his erection.

He groaned and closed his eyes. “You’re going to kill me.”

“How?” She leaned forward, kissing him ever so lightly as her nipples brushed against his chest.

“You are so sexy. Everything you do. I’ve been thinking about this.”

A thrill went through her. “What have you been thinking about?”

He sat forward to cup her breast, and the hard pull of his mouth sent a jolt of heat straight to her core. She combed her fingers into his hair. He was so good at everything he did, as though he knew just what she wanted and how she wanted it, and she felt a rush of excitement about what was coming. She brought his head up for another kiss, tracing her fingertips over his stubble. Then she shifted her position, grinding against him, and he made a low sound in his throat.

She loved the way he kissed her and touched her. She loved being in charge. And she loved the intense look in his eyes when he watched her. He slid his hands around her and kissed her deeper, harder, and she rocked against him as the kiss went on, until her body throbbed and she felt dizzy with need.

Sara moved off him and looked him over, taking in his perfectly sculpted chest. She’d always known he looked good in jeans, but he looked especially good in just jeans. She trailed her finger down his muscular body and let it rest on the snap.

He lifted a brow. “Need help?”

“No.”

Heat flared in his eyes as she traced her finger farther down, then back up again.

“Sara . . .”

“What?”

He swung his legs off the bed and stood up, watching her as he stripped off his jeans and his briefs and lay back on the bed.

Sara’s heart skipped a beat.

“Hey.” He took her hand. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

He pulled her in for a kiss that went on and on until her heart thrummed wildly and her skin felt hot. And suddenly, it hit her that it had been two long years since she’d done this, and she needed to slow things down.

He seemed to sense her hesitation, even if he couldn’t possibly know what it was about. He stroked his hands softly over her arms. And then his fingers were at her hips, tugging the thin straps. She sat back so he could slide her panties off and toss them away. His gaze moved slowly over her, following the path of his hand over her calf, her knee, her thigh, to finally settle at her bare hip.

“You are so beautiful.”

Her skin flushed at the words. Maybe he’d said it to put her at ease, but it worked. She braced a hand against his shoulder and straddled him again, then closed her eyes and kissed him.