“You want me that way?” A note of teasing crept into her voice, and he found he liked it, liked the challenge. Hell, he plain liked Laura, even though she had one foot in the enemy camp.
“I like you slippery and hot and tight around my cock. I can feel your heat even through the condom.”
“I’m good,” she said, this time with a touch of the prim.
He laughed and kissed her again, taking a few seconds to lay a trail of kisses down her neck and latch on to her nipple. He sucked strongly, battling the siren urge to roll her over and thrust strongly between her legs. But his father’s lectures were too engrained. After kissing her for a little longer, he rolled away to grab a condom.
She smiled, a shy smile that grabbed him by the nuts. “I want you inside me. I’m ready for you. Hard and fast, okay?”
A return smile twitched his lips as he stared into her whiskey brown eyes. Damn it. Why did it have to be Laura Drummond who turned him inside out? He forced his thoughts aside to concentrate on her. He pushed inside, groaned. “God, you feel amazing.”
She sighed against his lips, clutching him to her. Although he’d wanted to pound into her, the loving slowed and he worked on loading memories. The sensation of his strokes into her tight cunt. The feel of her lips moving against his and the coursing of his blood through his veins This thing—whatever it was between them—was magical and in the future, he wanted to recall every second.
He shifted position, caught her gasp against his lips as the base of his cock struck her right. During the repeat stroke, she moaned, and the instant he felt ripples, he thrust faster, racing to catch her while she surfed waves of pleasure. He plunged into her, threw himself after her and groaned at the wash of ecstasy that dazzled him with bright lights behind his eyelids. So good. So bloody good.
The pulses went on for a long time then he rested against her, only moving when he realized he’d become an uncomfortable weight, pressing her into the mattress. He withdrew, tossed the condom and returned to her side, her warm lushness attracting him like shelter in torrential rain.
“Thank you,” he whispered, kissing her. His pulse rate did a bump and grind at her response, spirit willing but flesh still weak.
They cuddled in contentment, the minutes ticking away.
“I guess I’d better make that phone call.”
“Why don’t you take a shower first? I’ll make breakfast and use the bathroom while you speak to your family.” He didn’t want to listen. She was right though. She was an adult, although he understood why they might worry about her given the severe storm. “Take some of this gel to rub on your butt after your shower.”
She shot him a hot frown and accepted the tube.
The coffee was ready when she joined him in the kitchen. He shunted a mug in her direction, indicated the phone and left her to it while he hit the shower.
Laura tested her coffee for heat, blowing across the surface before taking a cautious sip. It burned her mouth, but that was the least of her problems. If she didn’t handle this conversation, both she and Dallas would sink into a heap of trouble. She tried another sip, and this time it slipped down easily. In the distance, she heard the shower start—a sort of a ticking clock springing to life inside her mind.
Time to get this done.
Her palms were sweaty when she picked up the phone, and she wiped them on her sweats. A tremor shook her hand, but she managed to dial her parents’ number. It rang for three rings before someone picked up the other end.
“Drummond residence.”
“Bridget, it’s Laura. I understand Mother is worried about me.”
“Miss Laura, your mother is at breakfast with her guests,” Bridget said.
Not as worried as she made out to the local cop. Another slice of guilt to manipulate Laura. Normally, she’d shrug and brush aside her mother’s behavior. Not this time. Anger flared in her, finding an outlet in a white-knuckle grip around the phone.
“Would you mind giving her a message for me? Tell her I’m at home and will drive back to Clare for the wedding. I’ll wait on the phone while you tell her in case she wishes to speak with me.”
“She’ll want to speak with you,” Bridget said, her Irish accent evident.
Laura finished her coffee and poured another one. The shower shut off.
“Why didn’t you answer your phone?” The crisp voice of her mother was a bucket of icy water dropped on her head. “I dislike talking to that infernal machine. Why isn’t your cell phone switched on?”
“I forgot to charge my cell. The battery is dead. Mother, there was no need to contact the local police and bother them. They have more important things to do.” Laura pulled a face at the disapproving silence and continued. “The rain wasn’t bad in Napier. I ran out of milk last night and decided to go out to get some. I met some friends and we had drinks.” Aware she was giving too much information, she stopped and waited for her mother’s next salvo.
“You were expected here.”
“Janice has six bridesmaids,” Laura said crisply. “I doubt my absence has even registered on her radar.”
“James was expecting you.”
