Rebound (Boomerang #2)(76)

His tongue teases my mouth, and I squeeze his waist with my thighs, grip his hair to pull him closer, as close as I can get him. We tumble onto the bed together, still kissing but laughing too, trying to find our way up the bed without breaking our kiss, without our hands having to do anything but touch each other’s bodies.

He pushes my skirt up my thighs, presses himself against me, coarse twill against silk. I arch up to him, and we rock there, mouths crashing together, and already I feel that dizzying, cresting feeling. My body wants to climb toward that place, toward that bright undoing, and I want it but I also want to ride this, to make it last forever.

Easing off me, he slides off the end of the bed and stands there, facing me.

“Come here.” His eyes shine. His mouth looks moist and bruised from our kissing. Leaning forward, he slips his hands beneath me and tugs me toward the edge of the bed, until I’m at the very end, legs dangling off so my toes scrape the wood floor.

“I’m glad you’re not in your Catwoman costume,” he says, grinning. “Or in scuba gear. Or a snow suit.” Reaching beneath my skirt, he pulls down my panties, his fingers skimming over me, heat against heat.

“I’m . . . glad . . . too.”

He parts my thighs, looking at me with so much desire, such intense focus that my body starts to tremble.

“I thought you didn’t want to go slow,” I protest.

His hands brush over my breasts, squeezing them, tempting the nipples with his firm agile fingers, then trail over my belly, down along my legs. And then he moves to kneel at the edge of the bed.

“Adam—”

“I have to taste you.”

Just the words make me moan. I don’t know if I can take more than that. Take his mouth on me, his fingers. I want him against me. In me. Waiting, even for this, feels like torture.

I start to protest, but I feel the heat of his breath against me, feel him move my legs up to cross against his back. His head dips down, and I miss his face, miss looking into his beautiful raincloud-gray eyes. I haven’t had my fill of that yet. I know I never will.

He presses his mouth against me, his hands moving over me, fingers and darting tongue and heat like I’ve never felt, like I’m burning from the inside, my entire body a scalding fever. I give myself to it, arching up to him, body rocking like a wave, like the ocean flowing and receding. It’s never been like this. I’ve never felt like this, pulled to this aching, yearning center. Never felt like a prism, sparking light in all directions.

I’m close . . . so close, but I want more. I want him. I breathe his name, and somehow he knows. Or he wants it for himself. He rises and strips off his shirt, and I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than the sight of him, standing there. I start to rise, hungry to touch him, to feel the amazing strength of his muscles, to trail my hands, my tongue over the channels of his tapered abs.

But he pushes me gently back onto the bed and unbuckles his belt, eyes fixed on mine, pinning me in place. He sheds his pants and briefs, and stands there with that smile that undoes me—with his incredible body on display.

“You’re amazing,” I tell him, and he is. He’s more than I could have imagined, and I’ve imagined him many times.

“That’s you,” he says. He gets a condom from the nightstand and hands it to me to slip onto him. I do, looking up into his eyes, and then he slides over me, pressing against me, warm and hard and so perfect. All of me opens to him. Every part of me wants to enfold every part of him.

Adam slips himself into me slowly and then with a final motion that makes us both gasp. I close my eyes, giving myself over to the feeling of it, to the ebb and flow of our bodies, his hands brushing my hair back from my face, the feeling of his mouth closing over my nipples, sucking one then the other between his teeth.

Fierce darts of pleasure shoot through me. My breath comes in shallow gasps, and I cross my legs around his back again, pulling him to me, needing him to be closer than my own skin. He moves up, intensifying his movements, looking down at me, at the place where our bodies intersect.

I slip my hand there, to the place where we join, and the feeling breaks me. It’s not a climb this time, but a sudden, shocking pulse that ripples through me, growing deeper and deeper, consuming me until it’s everything, until I’m crying out from the pleasure of it, wave after wave pouring through me, deeper than anything I’ve ever felt. It takes me, sweeping me along, and I hear myself say Adam’s name over and over, hear Adam’s panting breathing until it’s everything, until his voice is the air I breathe.

His strong hands brace my hips, holding on, moving intensely now, with a purpose that drives me, that makes me shudder. We rock together, on and on, until his breaths become groans, until his body trembles wildly against mine, fierce and insistent, until he shudders hard against me.

We still, and I lie there, letting my heart rate slow, letting myself come fully back to my body.

I rise up to kiss him, to run my lips over the sheen of perspiration on his chest, to breathe him in, feel the life of him still pulsing within me. He kisses me back hard, and then we move up to stretch out on the bed.

He lies there, a wide grin on his face. And then he laughs.

I nip his shoulder. “What’s so funny?” I ask.

“When you take over Boomerang,” he says. “You’re definitely going to have to kill that no-dating policy.”