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Hard and Fast

Hard and Fast (Fast Track #2)(50)
Author: Erin McCarthy

“They’re not going to come off in this position,” she said.

“You want to bet?”

Not really, because Imogen could already tell he was going to prevail in triumph over the denim. He pretty much had them down her thighs already, and when she leaned forward a little, he was able to get them down to her knees, panties included. Then his finger slipped inside her and she stiffened. The man knew dead-on right where to touch her. It was amazing. It was sexual ESP.

“Shit, I left the condoms in my backpack out there,” Ty said, even as his finger continued to move. “I have to go get them.”

“I’m on the pill.” Imogen rolled her hips back to meet his strokes, her eyes half-closed at the delicious impact of her colliding with his finger. “As far as anything else goes, I trust you. I presume you would trust me to be truthful with you about my health as well.” She panted a little, struggling to find her breath. “I mean, honestly, it’s all rather bizarre. Every relationship passes out of the condom phase as a couple becomes more committed and/or trusts one another on a deeper level. Yet, unless they have actually been tested for disease during the course of the relationship, they are no more ‘safe’ than they were when they were still using condoms. What changes in reality? Nothing, except the skewed perception that now that they know each other, they couldn’t possibly have an STD, whereas previously it was still a possibility. It’s an odd alteration based purely on emotion, isn’t it?”

“Very odd. And I don’t have anything. I’ve been tested.”

“But it’s not like you can carry around a card indicating that you’re—”

He interrupted her. “Hey, Engine?”

His finger had stilled in her, which she found disappointing. She wiggled a little to provoke a response from him but he didn’t give it. “Yes?”

“Are you giving me permission to be inside you without a condom?”

Imogen processed the question and didn’t hesitate in her answer. “Yes, I am.”

He gave a soft, exasperated laugh. “Then quit yapping and let me f**k you.”

“Hey.” She reached back and smacked at his leg, which was somehow magically bare. How he’d gotten his own jeans down his thighs was a mystery to her. “I don’t yap.”

Ty yanked off his T-shirt. “No, you’re right, you don’t yap.” His finger slipped into her again. “You are the smartest woman I know, with witty and interesting observations on everything around you, especially people, and I love to hear you talk, to hear your thoughts. Most of the time. Now is not one of those times, because right now I just want to grit my teeth, let my mind go blank, and sink into the sensation of your body closing around mine in a hot, wet cocoon.”

She swore that with each word he spoke she got wetter and more aroused, until she was thrusting frantically backward onto his finger and gripping the sleeping bag beneath her by the time he was done talking. That had sounded hot and excited and almost, kind of, romantic. Like the Ty McCordle version of Shakespeare. “Okay,” she said. “I’m done thinking.”

“Good. Just feel me.”

Then he removed his finger and thrust inside her, sans a condom, and Imogen’s head snapped back at the acute pleasure the impact brought. “Oh, God,” she said, her muscles trembling around him as she wondered for a split second if she’d actually had a mini-orgasm.

“Oh, yeah,” he said, hands squeezing her thighs, his penis pulsing inside her as he paused. “Thank you, thank you for letting me go bareback.”

“Bareback?” She gave a soft laugh. “I like that expression.”

“I like this,” he said, and started to move, a quick, hard pace that had Imogen holding on to the sleeping bag so she didn’t fall.

She could honestly say that she liked it, too. It was possessive, urgent, the hot friction, the hard slap of his thighs against her like an invitation to lose herself in sex, to let it take her and sweep her under until she was screaming with pleasure. The position that had always bored her somehow took on a totally different meaning, ripped a relentless and uncontrollable response from her, a desperate need to meet his rhythm, to hold on.

“Oh, babe,” he said, his voice ragged.

“Yeah?” Imogen dipped her head and let her hair slide forward over her face.

“Yeah.”

He thrust so hard she actually lost her balance, then gasped when he quickly pulled out. “Oh, where are you going?”

“Too close,” he said. “Lie down on your back.”

Already used to his orders, she immediately did it. He always had great ideas, and she trusted this one would be no different. Once she was on her back, he stripped her jeans and panties all the way off, then did the same to her shirt. It was warm in the tent, the sun filtering down in the cracks where the window flaps were, and it felt intimate, cozy, just the two of them out in the middle of nowhere.

Imogen smiled up at him and he paused as he leaned over her. He cupped her cheek, stroking her skin, and smiled back. “Can I kiss you?”

“Of course you can. You’ve done everything else.”

He laughed. “True enough. But looking down at you, you look so pretty, so perfect, I thought maybe I shouldn’t mess up that smile.”

Ty really was romantic. She could have never imagined how sexy and tender his words could possibly be, but they were. On the verge of melting like milk chocolate in the sun, she reached up and ran her fingers across his bottom lip.

“I would love a kiss.”

“Then I guess I have to.” Ty leaned over her, propped up on his arms, and kissed her.

She loved the way he kissed her, the way he started out slow, then got faster and more demanding, his kisses hungrier and more urgent as his tongue dipped inside her mouth. Ty pulled back and took her glasses off. He tucked them in the corner of the tent, then took her shoulders and rolled her so she was on top of him.

Sprawled across his chest, she asked, “So what do you have in mind?”

“First you’re going to kiss me.”

Grinning, she leaned down and moved her mouth over his, enjoying the control the angle gave her. “Yeah? And then?”

“Now you’re going to sit on my face.”

Subtle as usual, Ty was. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” He started to push her back so she’d sit up. “And why do we keep saying ‘yeah’ to each other?”

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