Downstairs was dim and cold. The house creaked like it disapproved of me being awake as I stalked into the kitchen. I opened drawers until I found a matchbook with some old hotel logo on the front and set about lighting the gas stove like I knew what I was doing.
I did not. Clearly. The flame sputtered and my patience wore thin. I was wound tighter than a drum, a hair away from getting so erect again that I could take someone’s eye out, and restraint was starting to feel like cruel and unusual punishment.
Jane appeared in the doorway while I waited for our coffee, barefoot and wrapped in my shirt from last night like it belonged to her. Everything in me tightened at the sight.
“You look domestic,” she said, much too cheerful.
My eyes narrowed. “I hate it.”
She padded closer, leaning against the counter and watching me struggle like it gave her great pleasure to see. “You don’t bring women home.”
“I don’t,” I said. “Why are you reminding me of that?”
“Because here I am.”
“Complicating my morning.”
She smiled, reaching out to straighten the collar of my hoodie. Her fingers brushed my throat and the tension snapped. I turned, backing her against the counter without thinking, one hand braced beside her, the other at her waist.
She looked up at me, her pupils dilating and her breath catching, but she wasn’t surprised. She was waiting.
“This is a bad idea,” I said as I lowered my mouth to her throat.
She canted her head to give me better access, catching my cheek in her palm and stroking her thumb across the stubble there. “Then stop.”
I didn’t. Instead, all the restraint I’d been hoarding bled out in one controlled, deliberate motion and I pressed open-mouthed kisses to her skin, working my way to her jaw and then her mouth. Her hands fisted in my hoodie, pulling me closer, and the world narrowed down to heat, pressure, and the quiet sound she made when I pressed into her.
“Tell me to stop,” I murmured, pulling back just enough to look into those gorgeous gray eyes again. “I’m serious, Jane. If you’re not sure about this, or if there’s any part of you that?—”
“Alex?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t stop,” she said, her voice steady and sure, her chin tilting just enough to let me know she had come down here determined to make this happen. “I’m not sure if you’re trying to be valiant, or noble, but?—”
That was it. I kissed her again, harder this time, my grip tightening on her hips and the percolator forgotten.We’re married, for God’s sake. Might as well consummate it.
Married. Trapped by weather.
I could probably have stopped again. Maybe, but I didn’t even try. I lifted her against me, groaning when she wrapped her legs around my hips. The percolator whistled somewhere behind us and I laughed into her mouth.
“Our coffee is ready,” I murmured, reaching behind me to turn off the flame without breaking eye contact. “We’ll save it for later.”
She smiled. I kissed her again and decisively carried her upstairs. For the first time ever, I was going to take a woman to bed, knowing I wasn’t leaving after, and it felt damn good.
I already knew it was about to feel even better, though. Jane stretched out on the bed as I laid her down, those gray eyes not leaving mine as I crawled up after her.
She caught my face in her hands, bringing me to her and stroking her tongue into my mouth when we crashed togetheragain. “I want you, Alex. I don’t like it when you hold back on me. Don’t do that again, okay?”
I groaned, already so hard when I fitted my sweats-clad hips between her legs. Pleasure rocketed through me at the sensation of her heat against me even through the pants. “Don’t say that to me right now.”
“Why not?” she asked without skipping a beat. “I mean it.”
As she said it, she pushed her hand between us, snaking her hot, tiny palm down my abs until she hit my waistband. I sucked in a breath, giving a tiny thrust that made her gasp and slide her hand further down.
“Jane,” I gritted out against her mouth.
She broke the kiss to look at me then, aggravation sparking to life in her eyes as she held my gaze. “Alex?”
