Gena Showalter - Playing With Fire (tales of an extra ordinary girl)

My motions were slow and tired as I exited. Tanner was right behind me, and we trudged toward the cabin. He still wouldn’t look at me. I would apologize again, but I’d wait until he was more receptive to do it.

Before we reached the porch, Rome strode to my side and clasped my hand, bringing me to a stop. “Tanner, go inside. Get some rest. Belle and I will join you in a little while.”

I opened my mouth to ask what was going on, but Tanner muttered, “Take your time,” and entered without us.

Rome tugged me into a thicket of trees. “There’s a pond out here,” he said.

“And?”

“And we’re going to swim in it. Alone. Then do whatever else we feel like doing.”

Oh. Oh. Suddenly I wasn’t so tired. Warmth tingled through me. Warmth and lust and a seemingly unquenchable hunger. The rational, keep-me-out-of-trouble part of my brain tried desperately to remind me of what the future had in store. Rome is going to leave. When this is all over, he’s going to leave you.

Maybe it was foolish of me, but I still refused to let that ruin the here and now. I’d guard my heart, keep my emotions on a tight leash, but I would enjoy this alpha male while I could. No regrets, I reminded myself.

Soon the trees opened up, revealing a large oasis. Dappled water formed a beckoning oval. Boulders lined the edge in a half-moon, and pink flowers bloomed around them, a perfect frame. Bright ribbons of moonlight and curls of mist ghosted over the silvery liquid, making it shimmer like polished glass. Lightning bugs flickered like romantic candles.

The sheer beauty of the area snagged my breath, and I trembled.

“Do you know why I brought you here?” Rome asked me.

“Yes,” I answered. And I was more than ready to begin.

ROME TURNED TOWARD ME, and I turned toward him. When our gazes caught, held, the warmth inside me flared to a low burn. I licked my lips. It seemed as if I’d waited for this moment forever. Maybe I had.

“Nervous?” he asked.

“Yes.” I didn’t try to deny it.

“Me, too.”

My eyes widened. “You? I didn’t think anything got to you.” Then realization slammed into me, and my shoulders slumped. “I understand. You’re afraid I’ll burn down the woods or something.”

Moonlight couched his features, bathing him in gold. His eyes glowed bright blue, shimmering. “No, nothing like that. I’ll filter any heat you create.”

“Then what are you nervous about?” I asked, confused.

“I want to be your best. I want to set you on fire. Over and over again. I want to make you wet.”

Everything inside me tingled with delight, with bliss. With pleasure. Moisture pooled between my legs, drenching me. “You already have,” I said.

“More,” he replied. His head slowly lowered toward mine.

I went up on tiptoes, meeting him halfway. At the moment of contact, I opened for him, and his tongue swept inside. The taste I was becoming addicted to-savage man, wild beast-flooded me.

He took his time with the kiss, laving my tongue, exploring me. Enjoying. My blood simmered, my bones liquefied. I melted into him.

“You taste so good,” he said. “You smell so good. That’s the first thing I noticed about you. You were horribly sick, but you smelled like apples and cinnamon and total woman.”

While he spoke, he traced his fingertip down my chest, over the ridged peak of my nipple, the sensitive plane of my belly. Where he touched, I quivered. He gripped the hem of my T-shirt and slowly worked it over my head, then dropped the material at our feet.

I did the same to him, reveling in the ropes of his muscles, the feel of velvet-encased steel. I yearned to lick every inch of him. To savor him, to have his cock inside me, hard and hot and eager. I’d wrap my legs around his waist and he would sink deeper into me.

“Your turn,” he said. He reached behind me and unhooked my bra. My breasts sprang free, aching for him. He kneaded them and plucked at the wanting nipples.

I gasped at the heady sensation, the consuming need. “Now you.” I worked at his weapon holster. My fingers were trembling, so it took me longer than I wanted, but the thin black strap soon lay in the puddle of clothes.

When I attempted to unsnap his pants, he tsked with his tongue, the sound rough and raspy. “You don’t get to go twice in a row.” He worked the button of my pants and pushed them over my hips, down my legs. “Step out of them.”

I was aching so much I nearly didn’t have the strength to obey. I had to grip his shoulders to hold myself up. Slivers of moonlight illuminated him, my dark angel. He stepped back, his gaze roving over me. Only a pair of lacy panties shielded me.

Usually I was comfortable with my body. I didn’t own a car, so I had to walk a lot, which kept me fairly trim. But having Rome see me like this… Did he like what he saw? Did I turn him on?

“Take them off,” he rasped. “I do get to go twice. I’m bigger.”

I hooked my fingers in the sides of my panties. Rome still had his pants on, and if I did what he asked, I would be completely naked. Completely exposed. A daunting thought, yet…

I shimmied them down my legs, stepped out of them and straightened. Nervousness blended with my arousal, a hot and cold combination. I wished he would say something, anything. Wished he would touch.

As if he knew my deepest desires and wanted only to cater to them, he reached out and swirled a finger in my belly button, saying, “You are, without a doubt, the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen.”

My breath caught. The words were so rough I could barely make them out. When I realized exactly what he’d said, any lingering doubt about my decision to be with him died the sweetest death. My nerve endings sparked with desire so complete it nearly slayed me.

He worked quickly, furiously, at his pants, no longer content to slowly strip. Finally he, too, was naked. I drank in the sight of him. The golden rays of the moon paid him absolute tribute. He was a buffet of muscles and corded strength. He was big and strong, utterly majestic, and I needed him inside me.

Neither of us said a word as we stepped toward each other in unison. I gasped; he growled. His arms closed around me; my arms closed around him. Our tongues clashed together, and his breath became mine. I burned for him, just as he’d wanted. Though my emotions were frayed and raw, I felt passion boiling inside me, flooding from me into Rome.

He instantly captured and caged the heat. Wave after wave beat around us. A groan purred out of my throat. My hands were all over him-his back, his stomach, his penis. I allowed my fingers to curl around the long, thick length of him, and my other hand gripped the heavy weight of his testicles.

He hissed in a ragged breath and suddenly I was falling down, falling backward. The kiss didn’t break. Instead of slamming into the ground as I expected, I landed on top of Rome. He had twisted, taking the brunt of the fall himself.

“Straddle me,” he said roughly.

I did. With pleasure. My legs settled around his waist, placing the core of me at the tip of his cock. The sensation of flesh against slick flesh rocked me. He tugged me down until my breasts rasped against his chest. Oh, delicious abrasion. Then he slid me up until my nipples perched above his waiting mouth. As he sucked and licked, I rode his cock without actual penetration. I arched and strained against it. Sensation after blissful sensation tore through me.

The deliciousness… the riotous intensity…

He captured my other nipple, giving it the same attention he’d bestowed on the first. “ Rome,” I said, his name a desperate plea. Up and down, I rubbed myself on his penis. The fire in my blood continued to spill into him. “I’m going to-”