Good Girl Gone Plaid (15 page)

He couldn’t resist leaning down to take one dark red nipple into his mouth again.

She whimpered, squirming beneath his body.

“Take off your clothes.” She lifted her hips as she made the plea. “Please, I want to feel you against me.”

“Give me a moment, doll.” A strained smile pulled at his mouth. “There’s so much I want to do to you first.”

Like tear those damn panties from her body and bury his face between her legs. He needed to see if she still tasted as sweet as he remembered.

“Lift your hips again,” he commanded softly.

When she did, he caught her skirt and pulled it off her. Then went back to grab the edge of her cotton panties, tugging them off her thighs and down her legs.

The sight he unveiled had his mouth drying out.

“You’re killing me here.” He tossed the panties to the side and then went back to discover everything he’d been missing for eleven years.

Her curves were more emphasized now. Sexier. Her breasts larger and the nipples darker. Her stomach was still just as flat, but decorated with a few silvery lines as a badge of motherhood. And lower on her abdomen, a tiny horizontal scar that hinted her daughter had been born via C-section.

He slid his gaze lower. To the trimmed black curls just above a smooth mound that already shimmered with her arousal. He touched her lightly there, spreading the folds and easing a finger inside her.

She whimpered softly and her body clenched around his finger. She was hot and wet. Her sheath gripped his finger the deeper he went.

Soon it wouldn’t be his finger, but his cock, and the realization had him rock hard.

With his free hand he reached down to unfasten his jeans to give himself a bit more room to breathe.

“Ian,” she whispered. “Oh, please. Don’t stop.”

He added a second finger, stretching her and testing her readiness. He’d wanted to taste her. To bring her to orgasm at least one more time before taking her. But he knew he wouldn’t last. Not with the way she was panting and riding his hand.

It wasn’t enough.

While still warming her up with his fingers, he freed himself completely from his jeans. Her eyes were closed and her breathing erratic.

He needed her. Now.

Pushing her thighs wider, he pulled his hand away from her and replaced it with his cock. Thrusting home.

Sarah cried out as her eyes snapped open, rounding with shock and pleasure.

“Sorry, doll. I couldn’t wait.”

“I didn’t want you to.” Her husky words sent a shudder of pleasure through him.

He held her gaze as he sank deeper. Damn, she was tight. The times before he’d sworn he was too big for her, with her being so petite, but she’d always promised he wasn’t.

And even now, when he started to worry, her body hugged him with slick warmth, encouraging him forward. So did the small gasps of pleasure she made.

She slid her hands up his chest, grasping his shoulders as he began to move inside her.

Vaguely he realized that while she was stark naked, he hadn’t even taken off his clothes.

“Take me,” she whispered, wrapping her legs around his hips. “Please, Ian, don’t hold back.”

He wanted it hard this time, and she’d just given him the go ahead.

Abandoning all hesitation, he plunged into her with the urge his body demanded.

Blindly, he sought her clit again with a finger, rubbing it as he rode her harder and faster.

When her body tightened and she was about to come, he responded. He was nearly there. Felt the whiteness of orgasm take over his mind, when he realized why it was so good.

Forgot the condom.

With a groan, he pulled out at the last moment and spilled himself on her stomach.

Sarah didn’t seem too bothered as she trembled through her own release, her soft cries their soundtrack in the silent house.

“Sorry,” he murmured after a minute or two. “I didn’t plan that.”

He nuzzled her breast, placing a kiss on one hard tip. The sound of her heartbeat was still a frantic thump.

“We spaced on protection,” she agreed.

“Yeah.”

She reached up to push a strand of hair off his forehead. “Thank you for, um, doing what you did.”

He laughed softly. She was thanking him for that? Some girls would probably have preferred to punch him.

“Let me grab you a washcloth.” He eased off her and crossed the living room toward the bathroom. Thankfully the front curtains were shut, or he’d be giving the houses scattered below her quite the show.

After cleaning himself up in the bathroom, he returned with a warm, damp washcloth.

She hadn’t moved from the couch, but instead had her arms thrown above her head now as she stared at the ceiling.

He settled on the edge of the couch and ran the cloth over her stomach.

“Are you all right?” he asked, when she still didn’t say anything.

“I’m fine.” She gave a slight nod. “Just…thinking.”

About what had just happened between them no doubt. Did she regret it?

“I never forget a condom. I blame you. You go to my head.”

“Actually, it wouldn’t be the first time you forgot a condom.”

“Yes, it is.”

She stared at him. “No. It isn’t.”

Shite, what wasn’t he remembering? Ian scavenged his memory, trying to remember. Something pricked at the shadows of his mind.

Her expression turned skeptical. “Wait, you really don’t remember?”

“I’m trying to.”

“Never mind.” She shook her head and scooted into sitting position. “It was a long time ago and totally irrelevant.”

It clicked. “The morning after prom, right?”

“Right.” She crossed the room, heading straight to the bathroom now.

He followed her. “We woke up, went at it, and then realized we’d forgot.”

“Bingo. See there? Not always so on the protection ball.”

“Yes, well you’re the only one. And really, twice in fifteen years isn’t all that bad of a record.”

“Fifteen years?” She paused at the bathroom door and turned to look at him. “You lost your virginity at fourteen?”

“Aye.” He grinned. “A going away from Scotland present from my neighbor, Mrs. Robinson.”

Sarah snorted. “How original. I suppose she was an older woman?”

“How’d you know?”

“Lucky guess.”

“She was divorced. Quite lovely and with jugs—”

“Don’t need to hear it. Thanks.” She waved a hand in his face and disappeared into the bathroom.

“Are you showering?”

“Yes.” She paused and pulled the door open enough to stick her head out again. Her eyes were narrowed, but there was amusement in them. “Did you want to join me?”

Aye. Hell yeah, he did. “Thought you’d never ask, doll.”

He slipped into the bathroom with her, already semi-hard again at the thought of taking her in the shower.

One thing was certain. If Sarah had any regrets about tonight, she had a funny way of showing it.

Chapter Eleven

Five days. She’d lasted five days on the island before falling back into bed with Ian McLaughlin.

Sarah lay still in bed, staring at the ceiling and the hint of daylight that trickled in through the blinds.

Beside her Ian still slept, his soft snores not bothering her in the least. Now, his blatant nudity and the leg thrown across hers was another story.

Why hadn’t she thrown on a T-shirt before falling asleep? Some type of article of clothing that would put a barrier between them. It was a potent reminder of what had happened. Twice last night.

But did she regret it? The question had looped in her head as she’d fallen asleep, and then again when she’d opened her eyes.

The answer wasn’t quite clear. She’d enjoyed the sex too much to regret it. But the underlying fear of what she was risking put a damper on what had happened.

And what if it were about more than just sex? The idea had flitted through her head more than once, but she refused to dwell on the possibility too long. It couldn’t be more.

She tried to roll to her side a little so she could look at him.

He was so close to her, his body turned toward hers. In his sleep Ian appeared completely at peace. His brows, which were often drawn together in a scowl, were completely relaxed. His lips were parted as he breathed slow and steadily.

As if sensing her perusal, or maybe her movement, he reached out for her. Of course his hand landed on a breast and her breath caught on a choked gasp.

For a moment he stayed asleep, his hand just resting there. But she knew the moment he woke up enough to realize what he was grasping.

His fingers, initially immobile, began to trace her flesh. To cup her breast, and then knead.

She closed her eyes tightly and bit her lip. They weren’t going to go another round, were they? Surely he was burnt out by now. She was.

He caught her nipple between his fingers and pinched slightly. While the tip tightened under his touch, warmth flooded her body and moisture gathered between her legs.

Oh well, she’d thought she was burnt out.

“Still a morning person, huh?” he murmured and gave a low, raspy laugh that just screamed sleepy male and sex.

“Most of the time.” Oh why did her voice have to crack? Did she have to sound all breathy?

He squeezed her breast again and then leaned over to place a kiss on the nipple.

Her lashes fluttered up and she found his gaze on her face.

“Hi.” He leaned down to kiss her lips.

When he lifted his head, she repeated a soft, “Hi.”

The hand that held her breast slid downward, tracing circles over her stomach. Already butterflies were having a rave inside there, but when he traced fingers even lower, she couldn’t stop a low moan.

“Sarah.” Her name was almost a sigh on his lips. His gaze darkened and searched hers. “Last night was…”

Amazing? A mistake? She wished he’d finish the thought, because she was still in the undecided category herself.

But he didn’t finish his words. Instead he moved his hand those last few inches and cupped the heated flesh between her legs.

He dipped a finger into her and she whimpered, unable to tear her gaze away from his.

“I can’t wait to fuck this again.”

Shock ripped through her arousal. For a moment she wondered if she’d heard him right, but then he parted her thighs and moved between them.

“Ian—”

“I know.” He lowered himself onto her and kissed her, his tongue demanding a response as she felt the nudge of his erection into her sex.

Asshole.
After everything that had happened last night, he was back to his crude, heartless self? Her brain screamed in fury, but her body wasn’t getting the message. The two were at war, and she knew which one was losing.

Especially when she felt the thick length of him slide into her. All desire to push him away vanished, because it was just too good.

He broke the kiss and lifted his head, staring down at where they were joined, and then back at her.

She hated him. And yet, a part of her was terrified she still loved him. While she couldn’t seem to bring herself to push him away physically, he made it easier to keep herself away emotionally.

Sarah closed her eyes, unable to meet the heat in his gaze anymore, and gripped his shoulders. Her nails nearly pierced the skin as her body adjusted to accommodate him.

It had always been like this. So much pleasure, even though sometimes it felt as if he were just too big. But Ian had always ensured she was ready for him. Her comfort and pleasure had been a priority. He could be an asshole in some ways, but in others he was wonderfully tender.

He was nothing like her ex-husband. Immediate nausea rose, and she had to push the thought of Neil aside. Focus instead on Ian and the pleasure of this moment.

He moved deeper into her, increasing the pace of his thrusts. Her hips rose to meet each stroke, and together they found their rhythm.

Her body built toward climax. Her breathing grew heavier and she couldn’t stop her cries of pleasure. What would it matter if she did? He knew his effect on her. How her body would always be his, even if she guarded her heart so much better.

Always so in tune to her body, he reached between them and found her clit. One stroke and she was over the edge. And he followed right after her.

Still wracked by the remains of her climax, her mind kicked back into action.

He hadn’t pulled out this time.

Pleasure was replaced by a thick, seizing panic. She pushed at his shoulders, trying to get out from under him.

“Sarah?” he frowned, confusion and passion clouding his gaze. “What’s…ah, fuck. We forgot again.”

She could see the realization kick in with him too, and yet he didn’t move right away.