Making Magic (42 page)

“That was
amazing
.”

He ran his fingers down her arm, a bit out of breath. “Yeah, it was.”

“Does doing that tire you out?”

“It’s a bit like juggling weights…only not.”

She shook her head. “I better put your flute away before Bailey mistakes it for a chew toy.”

He let go of her and she knelt in front of her flute case. She slid the wooden instrument into a padded compartment under the Burkart and shut it securely.

“I’m flattered that my flute is being treated like a Burkart.”

Bailey was bouncing in Thea’s face demanding attention. She dug around in her tote and threw the last of the bacon she had into the grass. Bailey dove for it. “I tend to protect the precious things in my life.”

And sometimes protect meant smother. Like the way she had kept Bailey leashed or hid her feelings for Jake or reined in her own gift. Living fearfully was something she needed to unlearn. She sat on the blanket with a sigh.

“Actually, I think I tend to overprotect them,” she said.

Jake sat on the blanket beside her. “I’m not sure that extends to your car, though.”

“Oh, really?” she turned and gave him her best sarcastic smile. “The truth comes out. You only love me for my car.”

He grinned. “Hey, it’s a hunk magnet and I
am
a—”

She pushed him back onto the blanket and sat on him.

“Hunk,” he grunted, then grinned up at her. “Well hel-lo, Matchstick.”

She tugged at his shirt. “Now, where were we when we were so rudely interrupted the other day?”

Jake put his hands behind his head. “I have no idea. Maybe we should retrace our steps.”

Thea smiled. She was sitting on evidence that he was not as disinterested as he appeared.

“All right then. I think I had finished investigating your tiny scar.” She curled a finger under the edge of his shirt and ran it along the edge of his jeans.

The muscles of his abdomen jumped.

“And we had done the T-shirt thing.” She pushed it up slowly, enjoying the way he shuddered as her fingers skated along his ribs. His grin wobbled a bit. Instead of stopping with it over his face, she slid the shirt up over his hands and leaned into kiss him while his arms were trapped. She made a point of wiggling her hips a little while she did.

A fine sheen of sweat slicked his chest when she stopped and his smile was more like a grimace.

“Let’s see. Then I analyzed what fabulous abs you have.” She laid her hands on either side of his ribs and leaned in to kiss his stomach. “And they
are
fabulous. And you have this arrow—” she traced a finger down the trail of golden hair, “—pointing—”

“I think this is where I came in.” Jake sat up, yanked off the shirt and put his arms around her.

“But I haven’t had a chance to inspect your b—”

He slid one hand into her hair and pulled her to him for a lingering kiss—not demanding, or desperate, or anything but wonderful and warm and toe-curling. A work-roughened hand slid underneath her shirt to cup one bare breast and then the other. After long moments of exploration left her panting against his cheek, he leaned back. “You were saying?”

“Uh… Oh, yes. Your button-fly jeans. I know I started inspecting those.” She slid down to straddle his thighs. “I distinctly remember unbuttoning at least one.”

“Yes, well, we have to be absolutely accurate in our—” he swallowed his next word as she leaned over and carefully undid a button.

“Our?”

“Uh… Something… I have no idea what.” He flopped back on the blanket. “Tired. Long night.” He waved his fingers at her. “Carry on.”

Thea frowned down at him, putting her hands on her hips. Unlike her, poor Jake hadn’t slept at all, and after that little exhibition of flower ballet he probably was exhausted.

Her T-shirt drifted up over her face and quickly enveloped her arms, pulling them up over her head but getting caught. She was thoroughly entangled in green cotton from her chin up.

“Look at what you’ve been hiding from me all this time, Matchstick.” She felt her entire body lifted and shifted right into Jake’s arms. “I’ll have to start calling you Bombshell.” His hands traced down her sides to her hips. “Because you are shapely
and
explosive.” He squeezed her bottom, seating her firmly on his lap.

As his fingers traced her skin, it felt as if something sizzled along behind them, setting her aflame. When his mouth touched her neck, his breath hot against her skin, she moaned his name and went limp in her T-shirt prison. He chuckled against her throat and reached up to push the shirt away from her face.

“There you are.” He captured her lips before she could blink and kissed her so fervently that she dropped her arms, circling his neck with green cotton. When he started to pull away, she grasped the shirt in her fists and tugged him back in.

“Thea,” he groaned and splayed his hand against her back, pressing her breasts to his chest. She could feel every crisp golden hair brushing against her sensitized nipples.

Throwing her shirt to join his, she reached between them with one hand to find the buttons on his jeans.

“Damn.” He buried his face in her hair.

“We…skipped…a step,” she panted. “Buttons.”

“Just…wait a…sec,” he said. “They’ll…pop off.”

“Oh, I love you…Jake Moser.” She laughed and plowed her other hand into his hair to pull him into a hungry and demanding kiss. She slid her mouth down to kiss his stubbled chin, then on down to lick his neck.

“Melt… Leave ’em… They’ll melt…” he rasped as she unbuttoned the top one.

She undid another button. “Too dangerous… You might…set me off.”

“Funny… That’s what I was gonna say.”

He was perfect for her—this delicious, playful, sexy man.

“Then we’ll go up together,” she said.

“In a cloud of smoke and steam.”

“Nothing but ash left behind.” She put her hands on his shoulders and shoved, riding him down until he was flat on the blanket again and she could easily finish off the buttons. “Now, where is that little, tiny—” she leaned in to kiss the pale mark, “—scar.”

His stomach muscles jerked beneath her lips.

“Dammit, Thea.”

“You still taste like cider.”

“No chance to shower.” He pushed up on his elbows and gazed at her. “I feel sticky pretty much everywhere down there, if you want to check.”

She leaned back, hands on hips. “I think I will.” She grabbed the waistband of his jeans and briefs and yanked them off. His hips jerked into the air.

“That’s why I like button-fly jeans. No zipper, no chance of injuring anything important,” she said.

“Nuh huh,” he agreed, breathing hard.

“You’re right. You smell like apples and spice and—” she leaned over to sniff, “—bacon?”

“For Bailey.” He lifted his head. “In my pocket.”

Bailey’s head went up at the mention of her name. She had tipped over Thea’s tote and was busy trying to eat the container her food had been in.

“I better give it to her before she comes over to investigate other things that look edible.” Thea fished through his pockets and threw the bacon in Bailey’s direction, trying not to laugh at Jake’s expression.

“Thanks,” Jake said, watching the dog trot off with her prize.

“Now, where was I?” Thea put her finger to her chin. “Oh yes. You smell delicious. Let’s see how you taste.”

“Thea!” he yelped as she bent over him and licked hard. “Holy f—”

“Mmmmm,” she hummed, drowning out his expletive as his fingers dug into her hair. “Not bad.” Not bad at all. In fact, very, very good. A little salt, a bit of apple and spice, and a lot, a whole lot, of hot, slick, male.

“I should’ve known you…would be like this…watching you…play.”

The huskiness of his voice and the sheen of sweat on his skin made her shiver. What she was doing to him was reverberating through her, like tight strings vibrating beneath his hands, beneath those hot fingertips that rested, trembling, in her hair.

“Damn, Thea… I can’t.”

And she was sliding above him, in the air.

“Hey! Unfair use of—”

But then she was in his arms. He kissed her and said her name, ragged and hoarse. Something hot and sizzling flared to life inside her as he rolled her onto her back and buried his face in her neck, then kissed the hollow at the base of her throat, determined to map every inch of her with his mouth.

She dragged her fingers through his hair as his lips strayed across heated skin to where his fingers cupped her breasts. She arched her back up off the blanket as he kissed the aching peak of one mound then the other.

“You’re beautiful,” he rasped.

He blew on the wet nipple and made her gasp. “Jake!”

And when he sucked, she shifted her legs beneath him and felt him hard and hot against her hip. The sizzle inside her roared into a full-fledged conflagration.

He groaned and licked at the moisture beading between her breasts. “Thea.” His hands fumbled at her waistband as his mouth explored her stomach, making her muscles quiver and jump beneath his tongue.

Jake played her as if she were a flute. But when his fingers grappled with her zipper, the noises she made didn’t sound flute-like at all. She raised her hips as he gripped her jeans and tugged. When everything bunched up, she used one foot and a twist of her hips to quickly shove it all off one leg, then the other. She opened her eyes when she realized he wasn’t touching her any longer.

Jake gazed down at her with such intensity that she could feel the heat of it sweeping over her, the flames inside licking at her skin for release.

Thea held up her arms to him, but he was focused lower and she grabbed for handfuls of the blanket as he knelt between her knees.

“You smell like—”

A bonfire? An inferno?

“My own.” He kissed her damp curls. “Personal.” He held her hips when she twitched. “Hot.” He kissed her again and her legs fell open wide. “Juicy.”

She whimpered.

“Bombshell.”

“J-Jake.” She was about to explode.

He licked her slowly, as if he savored the taste, and held her hips as she arched up.

“J-Jake.” She dug her fingers into that tawny hair. “I-I…”

Jake lifted his head. “I think I know this tune. I recognize the key.” And he released her hips, moving up her like a panther stalking his prey, stopping to caress her breasts and nuzzle her neck along the way. She clung to his shoulders. “And you know how much I love making music.”

He didn’t so much kiss her as possess her entire mouth. And somehow, tasting herself on his lips made it even more arousing. She ran her hands over his back, letting her nails glide along his slickened skin.

“You are intoxicating,” he whispered into her cheek.

Thea was struggling to keep her eyes open and focused despite the roaring in her ears. Her skin was so sensitized that she could feel the hair on his chest brush against her breasts and it was making her frantic. “P-Please?” She vibrated like a wire.

“My greedy Bombshell.”

Yes, my sweet control freak. Here goes.
Thea shoved up with her hips and used her hands on his shoulders to roll him onto his back.

He landed with a grunt. “Hey.”

Thea planted her hands on either side of his head and kissed him, then she lifted up and lowered herself onto him—slowly.

“Thea, you’re—” Jake closed his eyes and moaned, “—perfect.”

When she moved too slowly for him, he thrust his hips up and grabbed her.

“Now who’s greedy?” She increased her pace, feeling the heat licking at her skin from the inside. Could he feel it?

He clamped his fingers onto whatever part of her he could reach, trying to urge her onward.

“Th-Thea.”

Thea stopped moving, kneeling above him. “What?” she panted.

Those whiskey-colored eyes of his looked like molten bronze. “If we’re…making music here…we need a bit less…Kenny G…and a bit more…‘1812 Overture’.” His hips quested upward, seeking her. When his fingers did the same, she grasped his hands in hers.

“Oh yes. Cannons. Fireworks. Bombshells bursting.” Thea smirked. “But that one
starts
really slowly.”

She slid down onto him with a smile and he seemed to stop breathing as she pressed his hands back to the blanket beside him. Something twitched deep inside her.

Her control freak
liked
to be controlled? Who knew?

“Can we…skip ahead to the…fast part?” He tried to whistle it.

She recognized the part of the overture he was attempting. He was doing it at a super-fast tempo that made her laugh.

“Yes. Yes. I’ve got this.” She leaned her forehead into his. “Let me think.
Larghissimo
?
Lento
?”