Barbara Dunlop - Thunderbolt over Texas

What did he need? He needed to be sure that emotion wasn’t overriding reason when it came to her. He needed to know she was on his side. He needed to know she didn’t have an ulterior motive.

She sighed into the silence. “Once, just once, do you think you could give me the benefit of the doubt?”

“Yeah,” he answered. “I will.”

“Good.”

He inhaled the scent of her hair and something primal rose up inside him. She might not have been interested in Slander, but Slander was sure as hell interested in her. Cole felt an overpowering need to stamp out the other man’s taint.

He needed to hold her, to kiss her, to remind himself that he was the one she’d made love with. It might be an over-reaction, but the blood of pillaging Vikings pounded through his veins. Ericksons took what they wanted, and Cole wanted Sydney.

He wanted her bad.

He bent his head, bringing his lips down onto hers. He forced himself to keep his arms by his sides. She could step away if she wanted. He wasn’t holding her, but he wasn’t holding back, either. He was going to kiss her until she told him to stop.

But she didn’t step away, and passion crested within him. His hands went to her hair. How he’d missed its satiny texture. He cradled her head, taking a small step forward, his body coming up against hers, her heat flaring against his skin.

“I missed you,” he whispered, the words almost painful. “I missed you so much.”

Had it only been a week since they’d made love? It seemed like an eternity.

“I missed you, too,” she sighed, her soft body snuggling into the hollows of his own. “I know you’re marrying someone else…”

“And I know this is just business for you…”

Their kiss deepened. He wished he could absorb her, keep her, bind her so tight she’d never touch another man. Never look at another man.

He plucked at the buttons of her blouse, needing to feel her satin skin once more.

Her blouse fell open and his fingertips skimmed their way over her stomach.

He covered one lacy cup, filling his hand with the weight of her breast. Her nipple poked into his palm and he wanted to rip off her clothes then and there. She wasn’t going near another man. Ever. Ever!

He didn’t care that it was only business. His hand convulsed around her breast, and the other went to her buttocks, dragging her tight against his body, leaving no question about the strength of his desire.

“Cole,” she moaned, her body going lax.

He wrapped an arm around her waist, supporting her slight weight.

“What you do…” she groaned.

“What you do,” he muttered back.

She wound her arms around his neck, holding him tight, her lips searing his skin.

“Cole, please,” she gasped.

“Anything,” he said. “Anything.”

“We have to go.”

“Huh?”

She stopped kissing, released him, her breath coming in short gasps. “We have to go to Miami.”

Cole felt as though he’d been bucked off and hit the dirt sideways. “What?”

“I found out… Gwen called… We need to go to Miami.”

He stared down at her open blouse, her lacy bra, the creamy breasts that mounded up like ambrosia. “Now?”

“Now. Bradley’s here. We can’t waste any time.”

Cole pulled back, irrational anger bubbling up at the mere mention of Bradley’s name. “Is that what you call this? A waste of time?”

She closed her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. “Don’t.”

Fine. Forget it. They’d drop everything and fly across the country to play hurry up and wait. “Sure, we’ll go to Miami.”

“You think I want to stop?”

“Just say it-you’re stopping, aren’t you.”

She tightened her jaw, bringing her hands up to her hips. “Cole Nathaniel-”

He froze at the intimate sound of his middle name.

“-I want you more than I’ve ever wanted any man in my life. And if I had my way-”

“You want me?”

“Yes.”

“But we’re leaving?”

“Yes! Bradley’s going to stake out the hotel.”

“But, you definitely want me.” Suddenly life didn’t seem so bleak. Miami was only four hours away. They could be there before morning. Nothing to do before the antique stores opened up…

She shook her head. “Yes, I want you. Should I make up a sign or something?”

“And you’ll still want me in Miami?” He’d take it in writing if she’d give it to him.

“Not if you don’t shut up.”

Cole grinned. “Shutting up now.”

“Good. Grab your bag.”

“Should I call a cab?”

“No. Let’s duck out the back way and catch one a few blocks down.”

He gave her a squeeze. “It’s sexy when you go all secret agent on me.”

She shot him a look of impatience. “Want meter is going down.”

“Shutting up again.”

“Good thinking.”

The minute the door swung shut on their Miami hotel suite, Cole pulled Sydney into his arms. Passion burst to life inside her, and she fumbled with the buttons at his collar, loosening his tie while he shucked his jacket.

She moaned her satisfaction, burrowing her face into his neck, inhaling deeply. She didn’t know what it was about his scent, but if they could bottle it, they’d make a fortune. She flicked her tongue out to taste his skin, then she suckled a tender spot near his collarbone.

“You make me crazy,” he rasped, running his hands through her hair.

She started on the buttons of his shirt. “You just make me want you.”

“How is it I do that?”

“Breathing,” she answered.

He returned her kisses, reaching for her blouse, popping the buttons and peeling it off her shoulders. He stood back and gazed once more at her lacy bra. “I like it when you breathe, too.”

She unsnapped the hooks and dropped the wisp of fabric to the floor. His eyes darkened, and her body began to hum in earnest.

“Oh, man.” He slowly pulled her in, pressing them skin to skin, holding her tight and setting off tiny explosions in her brain. His hands worked magic. His kisses grew harder, sweeter, ranging further and further.

She tangled her hands in his hair, loving the touch, loving the texture. “Stop time again,” she begged.

He feathered his fingertips down her spine. “I’ll do my best.” He tasted her earlobe. He kissed her neck. He delved sweetly into her mouth, and she thought she never wanted him to stop.

How had she imagined she could live without this?

They’d wasted six whole days, avoiding each other when they could have been in paradise. It was almost criminal.

He peeled off the rest of their clothes, and his touch grew more intimate. A flush covered her body, and an overhead fan whirred a gentle breeze, cooling the heat, sensitizing her skin.

He scooped her into his arms once again and crossed through the French doors to the king-size bed.

“Tell me when to put you down,” he said.

A shudder ran through her at his selfless memory. “Not yet.”

She loved this. There was something about his strength, his caring, his bold masculinity that sent shivers to her core.

He smiled and kissed her lips. Then he kissed her eyelids and the tip of her nose. “You really like this,” he teased.

“I really like this,” she agreed.

“Gotta figure out what fantasy it is.”

She grinned. “Caveman?”

“Viking.”

Her body convulsed. “That’s it.”

His eyes turned stormy. And he sobered, covering her lips in a long, deep kiss as he gently laid her back on the bed. He brushed her hair from her eyes. “You’re beautiful.”

She felt beautiful. She felt desirable and wonderful.

He kissed his way up her body beginning with her ankle, then the bend of her knee, gently flexing her leg until he had access to her inner thigh. His days growth of beard gently abraded her tender skin, sending shivers of desire to her core. His lips nibbled and his tongue teased higher and higher while she gasped his name.

She tensed when he blew gently on her curls. But then she closed her eyes and bit down on her lip as sensation after sensation throbbed their way along her limbs.

This was Cole. She was safe. He wouldn’t hurt her. He wouldn’t hurt anyone.

Then his hand replaced his mouth, gently stretching and filling her as he moved on to kiss her stomach. Her hips came off the bed, and he murmured words of encouragement against her skin.

She grasped for his hair, her hands restless, needing something to do. He moved again and took one nipple into his mouth. She groaned, burying her fingers in his hair. Her entire body arched involuntarily, striving to get closer to the sensations that were driving her sweetly out of her mind.

She dug her fingernails into his shoulders, raking them down his back as he moved up to kiss her mouth.

She opened wide. Finally, finally. She wrapped her arms around his broad body, holding him tight against her breasts. She kissed his mouth, kissed his cheeks, kissed his eyelids, then buried her face in his neck and inhaled.

He kissed the top of her head, one hand stroking down her glistening body, coming to rest on her bottom. “Slow and you just don’t go together, do they?” he gasped.

“Get over it, cowboy,” she rumbled, reveling in the salty taste of his neck.

She felt his deep chuckle.

“I’ll try,” he promised, easing her thighs apart. “I’ll try really, really hard.”

He eased inside her inch by careful inch. She bit down hard on her bottom lip. Time was stopping again.

He did slow it down. Then he sped it up. Then slowed it down again, holding her shimmering until she was sure she’d cry out in desperation. He whispered her name over and over, until the city lights blurred and streamed together, melting into the hot, humid ground.

Hours later, the rising sun turned the edge of the ocean a pearly pink. The champagne bottle was three quarters empty. And the lazy ceiling fan pushed a breeze down on Cole’s bare skin.