She stopped him with a hand on his arm. “One thing though.”
He looked over his shoulder at her. “What’s that?”
“You know my name. What do I call you?”
He paused for a second. “Dayton Vann.”
Chapter Six
I am not going to have sex with Rollie. I am not going to have sex with Rollie. I am not going to have sex with Rollie.
Day repeated the mantra in his head as he stood in the shower. Apart from the fact that he quite literally stank, he’d come in here to escape. To get his head together before he snapped and pinned his lovely ex-captive down on the bed and gave her a night neither of them would forget.
“You’re a f**king idiot, Day.” He cursed urgently under his breath, his hands braced on the grubby white tile of the shower as he shoved his head under the spray. He’d been done in the shower for a while, soaped and shampooed until he was squeaky clean. Hell, he’d even have shaved if he’d managed to pick up a razor in their desperate dash from the cabin if it helped him avoid having to go back out there. Perhaps if he took long enough, the fates would be kind and she’d have fallen asleep from sheer boredom.
***
Rollie fumed as she sat on the bed, ruminating on their earlier encounter. It hurt that Day saw her as a girl and not woman enough for him. She had never been able to share any significant emotional moment with any man long enough to break through the wall of uncertainty that her unusual childhood had created. But being kidnapped, shot at, nearly killed, and then saved by her own captor, she had never experienced anything as traumatic as this with another person, particularly a man. And the same man treated her like every other man had treated her in the past; like some weak-willed bloody wallflower.
Well to hell with that. She was tired of waiting for the right man to get close. Then when he finally did, he imposed what he wanted and disregarded her desires. This was more than just feminine pride. She needed to realize that she was still alive. But she wouldn’t share that chance with any other man. God only knew why. She didn’t. Or perhaps she did know, but she was afraid to realize it.
Realization dawned slowly as she stood, decision made. It was the work of seconds to strip her clothes. Then she was in the bathroom, opening the shower curtain to stare at his soap-and-water-slicked body.
He pulled his head from under the spray, gasping as he drew a full breath and slicked his hair back off his face. She reached out a hand and touched his bare shoulder.
It must have been instinct, and she felt stupid for sneaking up on him, because he twisted, pulling her into the shower and slamming her up against the wall, his forearm pressing hard against her throat.
“Oh, shit,” he exclaimed, dropping his hands from her, but then grabbing her as she slipped in the slick shower stall. She ended up in his arms, nak*d body against nak*d body
She was drenched in seconds as the tepid water sluiced down her. But she didn’t—couldn’t—take her eyes from his. First, because she had trouble understanding what she saw in his. Second, because she was afraid of looking down at his body and ending up making a fool of herself. She could already feel the sensuality of their slick embrace as he held her close against the chilled tile wall. Her n**ples hardened to aching points, and she was sure it wasn’t from the cold.
They were still for several moments, held by each other’s surprised gazes under the spray. Rollie was first to move, and she raised a cautious yet curious hand toward Day’s chest. A tentative touch, and then a little bit more insistent as she felt human warmth, rock hard muscle, and the pounding of his heart, which seemed to echo her own.
“This isn’t a good idea.” Day’s free hand snaked out and caught her wrist. “Playing with fire, sweetheart. You sure you want to do that?”
Despite his words, Rollie knew he was just being a nice guy, because she could feel his solid hardness grazing her belly. She knew he was holding himself back. Intense butterflies escalated as they traveled throughout her body before curling her toes. She kept her gaze on her hand on his chest and followed it as she slowly ran it across the sleek, warm surface of velvet wrapped around granite.
She normally didn’t do this—go after men. Despite the way she looked and her ‘damn the torpedoes’ personality, she was rather vulnerable in the sex and romance department. Work kept her busy, and a childhood spent on survival, study, and work had kept her from developing normal relationships. She always thought things through and was very careful. She was as nervous as all hell, but all she had gone through in the past several hours made her feel that for once, she deserved to be happy. That she deserved this, to feel alive and to experience a rare opportunity that she knew would never come again.
So she looked up at him, determined, and then slid up against him as she rose on tiptoe to kiss him softly on the mouth.
Day’s breath exploded from his lungs as her hand trailed down his chest and over his taut stomach.
“I’m so going to hell for this,” he murmured, leaning down to catch her lips with his own. His kiss was deep and thorough as he crowded her against the tiled wall, leaning into her as he kissed her. A kiss which left no doubt as to where this was going, and how.
She couldn’t help the moan of pleasure as he took her with possessiveness. She felt how a woman should feel. As though she really did belong to this powerful, virile man. Submissive in the kiss, she found her arms wrapping around his neck to pull closer to him. His tongue explored every crevice of her mouth, teasing her lips, slowly tempting her tongue to play with his.
She was stuck between a rock and the wall, and she had never felt safer. The warmth of his body dispelled all discomforts of the cold. Her feet began to ache at the extended position, but she didn’t care. Her leg seesawed restlessly against his; her soft inner thigh brushed against his, which was harder and rougher by contrast.
She wrapped herself around him, every movement sending his arousal higher into the stratosphere. Tapping reserves of control he hadn’t known he had, Day pulled away. His breathing ragged, he rested his forehead against hers for a few seconds. Every instinct, every cell in his body, screamed for him to take what she offered.
“Not here. There’s not enough room,” he murmured half to himself before bending to pick her up. She fit easily in his arms as he stepped out of the shower, grateful he’d put the towel down earlier. Slipping over with her in his arms would just kill the mood dead.
Quick strides took them into the bedroom. Day stopped in front of the bed, holding her dark brown gaze with his own. He felt every soft curve and hollow as she slid against him. He shivered, fighting the urge to spread her over the bed and bury himself in her soft, welcoming body.
But he couldn’t. From the pleading look in her eyes earlier to her hesitant manner now, he could tell she needed this. Not so much him, but this. An affirmation of life. His heart twisted in his chest for a moment. Take what’s offered, Day, and don’t think about the rest. He locked the unformed thoughts away and took her lips again in a blazing kiss.
Tears rolled down her cheek, and he swept them away with his thumb as he deepened the kiss. His tongue swept out and stroked her top lip, his heart thundering as she opened easily for him. Everything about her, every response, was perfect. As though she had been made for him and him alone.
Now, now, Day. Don’t go getting carried away. She’ll get over this, get over you, and return to her old life.
He shook his head mentally, ignoring the voice again. She’d offered him heaven, and he intended to taste it fully before it slipped away.
Slowly, he eased her back onto the bed until she lay full length and he leaned over her. She was so tiny compared to his larger frame. He felt like a brute in comparison. He stroked his hand along her thigh, stopping to marvel at the difference between their skin. The sensual difference of his hair-roughened thigh and her smooth, silky one.
His hand traveled higher, smoothing into the curve of her waist before he cupped her breast and flicked his thumb over her nipple. Her sharp intake of breath made him smile. “You like that, huh?”
Her eyes drifted shut again as he played with her breast. Her back arched and filled his hand with her flesh as she moaned. He flicked her nipple again, and she gasped. “Oh, yes. Very much,” she whispered, almost a whimper. She raised her arms over her head and grabbed handfuls of the sheets, restraining herself. Presenting herself to him.
“Christ, you’re killing me here.” He groaned at the sight and leaned down to replace his thumb with his mouth. He flicked his tongue over the tight peak once, twice, then sucked it into his mouth. He splayed his hands over her ribcage and suckled lightly, rolling the engorged flesh against his lips and tongue.
It wasn’t enough. It was never going to be enough. He trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses down her taut stomach. He paused at her hip, fascinated by the silky skin of her belly. He kissed lightly, chuckling as she started.
“You’re very…ah…n-n-naughty…” she managed as he continued his delightful exploration.
He chuckled, his lips against her skin. “Oh, I can get worse than this,” he promised, moving lower. His hands, more used to dealing with weaponry than the delicate curves of a woman’s body, gently urged her thighs apart as he settled himself between them. Then he kissed along her thigh. Soft, teasing kisses as he worked his way higher. He was in no hurry, despite the insistent ache of his own body. This might be his only shot at this, and he was determined to make it perfect.
“You’re going to drive me insane,” she mumbled as she tilted her head to the side and tried to breathe normally. She was afraid she’d hyperventilate. But those fears were only secondary. She was suddenly nervous again, despite her willingness. Would she satisfy him? She had felt him, and incredible was the only way to describe him. He was obviously a man who had a lot of experience. What if she couldn’t measure up?
Her train of thought was quickly derailed again as he started to kiss up her very sensitive inner thigh. He was so close, dangerously close to that part of her that longed for him. She was very, very wet, and she was a bit shy about it. The reverence and the adoration he rained on her body dispelled some of her trepidation, and left her with a sense of awe and an impulse to cry. It was all so very sweet, it was painful.
But this moment was too beautiful to ruin with tears, so she held it in and let herself drown in the pleasures he had to offer. Maybe he’d find her amusing at least. Or maybe he’d be interested in the novelty of the moment. She was afraid for those thoughts to be true. But the way he touched her, caressed her…she couldn’t think properly anymore, and she was thankful for that.
He moved again, his breath whispering over the sensitive folds of her sex. Then his tongue stroked over her, parting her labia and finding her cl*t with unerring accuracy. A deep rumble of contentment sounded in his throat as he tasted her, his tongue sweeping in long, slow licks, or quick flicks over her needy flesh.
“God, you taste fantastic,” he whispered against her, his hands splaying out over her h*ps to hold her still as his clever tongue worked to drive her to heaven and back.