Hot Zone (Elite Force #2)(64)
Author: Catherine Mann

Their laughter filled the sliver of space between them as he skimmed off her pants and she freed his erection.

“Condom?” she gasped, her body shouting in protest that this might have to end before it started. “Do you have one? Where’s your vest?”

“I’ve been carrying around condoms since our time in that supply closet.”

Confusion nipped at the edges of her desire. “You didn’t mention it before, after the shower.”

“My vest was closer.”

Perhaps he hadn’t wanted to let her know. They’d both been holding back something then that she hadn’t even quite grasped. But not now.

Just thinking of the idea that he’d wanted her ever since, even though she’d tried to be so cool and practical about the attraction, sent sparks of anticipation showering through her. He had wanted her. And knowing she held that kind of sway over this complex man who’d become her personal superhero… that felt pretty incredible right now.

“But Hugh, I walked away from you.”

“And I was damn sure not going to let you go so easily.” He backed her more fully against the tall wooden crate.

Body to body they stood—even in this moment of total abandon he stayed between her and the world. His broad shoulder blocked even a view of the canvas tent wall.

But then the rest of the universe basically faded when he touched her. All she could think about was the way he cupped her br**sts, bringing each pebbled peak to his mouth as he feasted on one, then the other, going back again until she thought she would scream out from the pleasure pulling tighter at the core of her. Much more of this and she could damn well fly apart before he’d even thrust inside.

She wanted, needed for him to feel the same fire, licking at his skin with the same heat and intensity of his tongue against her nipple.

She dipped her hands into his pants, palming his butt, fingernails digging in just a hint before she raked around his hips farther still. She took him in her grasp, testing the weight and length of him in both hands. She stroked and explored the rigid length until he throbbed even harder in her grip. With efficient, swift hands, she rolled a condom over him.

Groaning, he slid his mouth up her neck and took her lips as firmly as she sensed he was about to take her. He hooked a hand behind her knee and brought her leg around, opening her to receive…

Him.

Her head fell back against the crate as he plunged inside her. Deeply. He withdrew in a slow, slow glide, then filled her again and again. His hips met hers, fitting as they rocked together. Her back flattened to the wooden panel in a sweet pressure and release that wasn’t gentle but never crossed the line into painful. They danced close to the edge, though, mouths meeting, bodies grinding.

It wasn’t about anonymous sex in a supply closet or romantically scented soaps; this was about a raw coming together. A hunger to be closer, a fear that there wouldn’t be another chance, and a driving need for there to be more and more and more opportunities to lose themselves in this crazy connection.

Sweat trickled down her back just as it dotted his upper lip. She panted, breathless, but couldn’t bring herself to let this end. So much was undecided between them, unspoken, and when they stepped outside of this tent they would have to say good-bye, him staying and her leaving. She would leave, not knowing if this insanely intense bond would hold up in the real world. Could he bring himself to commit to another relationship after all he’d lost?

The thought of never feeling this again, of never having him in her life in this way, made her ache to scream in frustration. Made her burn to hold on to this moment, hold on to him all the harder.

He drove into her again and again, the angle, the friction sending electric tingles from between her legs, showering higher. As the bliss tore through her, she bit his shoulder to keep from crying out, her mouth and her nails marking him in an outward way just as he’d marked her heart.

Fighting back the need to finish, she squeezed her eyes closed, her fists gripping and unfurling against his shoulders. He whispered along her neck, and she felt the words more than heard them. Perceived his own ravenous need to make this last, to milk every ounce of ecstasy until the sensation sharpened, gathering not just in the tight bundle of nerves but also inside her, converging, exploding.

She came apart in his arms, her body writhing against his, and thank God, he held onto her, covered her mouth with his. Wave after wave rippled over her, longer and more drawn out until the force of it left her limp and replete in his arms.

In some distant part of her brain, she realized his face was in her neck now as his arms convulsed around her, his hoarse groan of completion sending a fresh tingle along her oversensitive skin.

She held onto him, or maybe they just held onto each other and let the crate behind her support them. As the sweat dried on her body, she knew time was passing. Their time together was passing. Physically and emotionally she was completely hollowed out. Unable to form thoughts, walk another step.

Withstand another loss.

Losing Joshua today had almost been more than she could take. She wasn’t sure how she could stand to let go of Hugh when the time came to step on that plane and leave him behind.

Chapter 19

His release still shuddering through him, Hugh held onto Amelia, or maybe she held him up. He wasn’t sure, as the aftermath of their explosive sex left him on shaky ground. So he dragged in breath after ragged breath, still buried inside Amelia while resting his forehead against the splintery crate.

Right now, he would give just about anything for a bed where they could both lie quietly while he got his head together regarding what had just happened. Because the olive green canopy and the dirt floor just weren’t cutting it. He and Amelia had been through a lot, slept together, been through even more, but still, something different had happened here. A connection had formed. He’d lost his heart to a woman before, and he knew what sex with love was like.

It was different from sex just for sex’s sake, different on some kind of transcendent plane that he couldn’t explain, but God, he recognized it well. He’d felt that distinction while making love to Amelia.

He fit her against his shoulder, her silky hair trailing down his arm. Her scent, her softness, it was all imprinted on him and in him now.

There was no replacing Marissa in his heart. No one could be a substitute for her. Just as no one could be a substitution for Amelia. She was her own person, amazing and unique in her own way. There was no hiding from the truth any longer. He had done the one thing he’d vowed never to do again.