Wild (36 page)

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Authors: Jill Sorenson

Tags: #Contemporary, #Suspense

BOOK: Wild
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Nathan’s wild-card reputation lost him his career and his family. After years of regret, he’s ready to fight for what truly matters—and that includes Abby’s hard-won trust. When Brooke goes missing, Nathan knows he’s her best and only hope of rescue. But the deeper into the rugged mountains they go, the more dangerous the territory will prove—for their safety and for their hearts.

In the following scene, Nathan and Abby get down and dirty in the hot springs after a close call with the bad guys.

E
VEN IF
A
BBY
had felt completely safe, giving herself to Nathan would be risky. He wasn’t the type of man she could manage. She couldn’t keep him on a friend shelf or hold him at a distance. If she opened this door, she’d be ceding control. Letting him in. She hadn’t allowed any of the men since Ray to touch anything but her body.

Nathan would take more.

That was part of his appeal, if she was being honest with herself. She needed human contact
and
an emotional response. Just this once. The hurt that might come later didn’t matter. Right now, she had to feel pleasure.

She didn’t care how foolish her decision was. They were alive. Their children were alive. He wanted her, judging by the erection straining his boxer shorts. He’d become aroused just by looking at her. That was a powerful draw.

She studied him from beneath lowered lashes as she came forward. The moonlight was muted by mist, giving the night a grainy, grayish cast. Steam from the tub rose up in foggy wisps and a fine sheen coated his skin, like sweat. His jaw was taut, his eyes half-lidded. He wiped his face again, his biceps flexing.

Her gaze trailed down his lightly furred chest and hard stomach. His upper thighs were heavy with muscle, a shade paler than his hair-dusted calves. The contrast struck her as absurdly sexy. She imagined pressing her lips to him, dragging down the waistband of his boxer shorts to take him in her mouth.

As she stood before him, her pulse racing, his eyes skimmed her breasts and the wet fabric between her legs. Her flesh tingled at his perusal, her nipples tightening. Although her invitation had to be obvious, his fists stayed clenched at his sides. He seemed reluctant to stare at her body, let alone touch it. Maybe he was worried about taking advantage of her precarious mental state.

She turned around, presenting him with her disheveled hair. “Can you help me?” she asked over her shoulder. She’d tried to comb her fingers through the tangled strands, but they were full of leaves.

He didn’t respond right away. She could feel heat coming off him in waves. Her white panties were so transparent she might as well have been naked. She indulged in a vivid fantasy of him tearing the lace and bending her over the tub.

Instead of doing what they both wanted, he removed the debris from her hair. When he tugged on a stubborn knot, she swayed towards him. Her bottom brushed his crotch. Making a strangled sound, he locked his arm around her waist and urged her down on his lap. He was rock-hard, throbbing against her.

Abby’s pulse raced with excitement as he swept her hair aside and placed his mouth on the tender skin at the nape of her neck. Kissing her there, he moved his hands to the front of her body. One cupped her breast. The other slid between her legs.

God. Three seconds in and he was already on third base.

“I want you,” he panted against her neck. His fingertips rubbed the soaked fabric at the apex of her thighs, wrenching a groan from her lips. She was swollen and sensitive, already aching for him.

“I can tell,” she said, her voice hoarse. Once again, she thought of him stripping off her panties and taking her from behind. That was another intimacy she hadn’t shared since Ray. Catching him with Lydia that way had soured her to the position.

“We shouldn’t…”

Abby knew all of the reasons they
shouldn’t
, and she didn’t want to hear them. Turning in his arms, she removed her wet tank top, exposing her breasts. He was a man, and therefore susceptible. When he saw her naked flesh, his eyes darkened and his mouth went slack. Resistance was futile.

She twined her arms around his neck. Her breasts plumped against the hard wall of his chest, making her shiver. She flattened her palm on his cheek and brought her lips close to his. They were both shaking with need. His erection nudged her belly. Her fingertips pressed into his shadowed jaw. Their ragged breaths mingled. When their mouths met, it was like a flash of lightning. She’d never felt anything so raw and sexually charged. Once he decided to go for it, he really went for it. His kiss wasn’t gentle. He was hungry and demanding, taking full possession of her mouth. His tongue plunged in and out, delving deep.

He groped her bottom with big hands. She squirmed against him, kissing him back with enthusiasm. Desperate to get him inside her. His fingertips slipped beneath the waistband of her panties and between her cheeks, touching a base no other man had ever been on with her. She went still, bracing her palms on his chest.

He stopped kissing her. His hand froze.

Her lips tingled with sensation and a heavy beat pulsed between her legs. She wasn’t pushing him away or saying no. She was so turned on, she wouldn’t deny him anything. Her body was his for the taking.

Instead of continuing into uncharted territories, he removed his hand from her panties and peeled the wet fabric down her hips. When she was completely nude, he stared at her for several seconds. Then he molded his hand to the back of her neck and brought her forward, kissing her mouth again and again.

Abby lost track of everything after that. Drunk with desire, she focused on him. His mouth, his hands, his hair-roughened skin. Nothing existed except this pool and this moment. She was pliant in his arms. He cupped her breasts, squeezing her stiff nipples. They were sensitive, but she preferred more pressure, even pinching when she was near climax. He had no trouble finding the perfect balance. His hand slid between her legs again, strumming her cleft with his fingertips. By the time he set her on the side of the tub and pushed her thighs apart, she was melting for him.

He kissed his way down her quivering belly. Normally she was shy about oral sex, more comfortable giving than receiving with a new partner. With Nathan, she seemed to have no inhibitions. She vibrated at his touch, taut as a bowstring.

When his mouth closed over her clitoris, sucking gently, she groaned. It was so good, she wanted it to last and last. She lay back against the cool rock and gripped the side of the tub, watching him work. Rain drizzled down on her like a caress, collecting in beads on her skin. He flicked his tongue over her clit and circled it lazily, in no particular rush. The orgasm built to a spectacular crescendo. She clutched his hair and cried out, bucking against his mouth as waves of pleasure washed over her.

Afterward, he lifted his head and studied her sex. She felt like a wanton on display, flushed and spread-eagled. He moistened his lips, as if tasting her on them.

“Do you have a condom?” she asked.

“If I did, I’d be buried inside you right now.”

She straightened and reached for the waistband of his boxer shorts. When she lowered it, she had to smother a moan. He was wonderfully thick and hard. Her insides clenched with longing as she wrapped her hand around his shaft, stroking him up and down slowly. Torturing him, she placed the tip of his cock against her soft inner thigh. Dangerously close to the place he wanted to be buried.

“You’re killing me,” he said, lifting his hand to her cheek. He traced her parted lips with his thumb. When she drew his thumb into her mouth, applying sweet suction, he groaned. “I’m dying to fuck you.”

She was tempted to let him.

He removed his thumb from her mouth, dragging it down her chin. She continued to caress him with her legs spread wide and his cock poised at her opening. His restraint was impressive. Covering her hand with his, he urged her to use a firmer grip. She pumped him with her slippery fist. Then she heard a strange noise, like shouting voices.

Someone was coming. And it wasn’t Nathan.

 

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