Page 16 of Saving Her Curves

Hank thought he’d explode before he even got their clothes off. He cupped her head with one hand and gently lowered her back down to the floor, glad he’d had the foresight to place a blanket on top of the rug. Unable to resist the feel of her mouth beneath his, he kissed her, tasting the sweetness of the chocolate and the essence that was uniquely Skye.

He’d had his share of lovers, but none like her. There was something about this woman that was so different than any lover he’d ever had. Her curves were so damned appealing, and it was as if she were made just for him. Hank was a big man who wanted a woman he could love as passionately as he desired. And Skye was that woman. She wasn’t the fragile type that a man was afraid to love for fear of breaking something when he held her to him. She was feminine and strong all at once. No, Skye was a woman who could hold a man captive in her curves as she drained him of every last ounce of strength he possessed.

He wasn’t afraid to love her as he wanted, to give her the parts of himself he’d never shared before. With swift, deliberate moves, he divested her of her sweatpants. Still kissing her, he undressed as well. He rose above her, his breath shallow as he saw her skin—perfection in the light from the fire. He lightly traced his index finger between the valley of her breasts, down her abdomen to her navel. She was curvy from top to bottom. Damn, her bottom. He wanted to turn her over and explore her curvy ass right then and there.

But he needed to be inside her more. Reaching for her, he wrapped her in his arms and pulled her to him. The feel of her silky skin against his hair-roughened flesh, the sound of her soft sigh as she melted against him, sent his body into overdrive. He eased his hand between them, finding the small nest of curls at the juncture of her thighs. “Open for me, baby.”

She did so immediately, her legs relaxing as he found the tiny nub at her center and began to caress her with gentle, easy movements. Her hips lifted and he deepened his strokes. When her breathing increased, he dipped one finger inside her, then another. “That’s it, take what you need, honey,” he encouraged.

His movements became faster, the sounds from her grew deeper. His fingers moved, driving her to completion. He felt her nails digging into his shoulders and concentrated on reading her body, her needs. His control was slipping with each twist of her hips, each hitch of her breath. With each mewling, satisfied cry.

She called out his name as she found her fulfillment. “Oh, Hank,” she whispered, as her eyes fluttered closed, her hands relaxing against the bed.

Hank kissed her eyelids as he reached for protection. Once sheathed, he made room for himself between her legs. “Ready for me?”

Her eyes flew open, two dark orbs that held a river of passion he wanted to ride on for the rest of his life. That thought shocked him, but he accepted it as truth. His life had never been normal, why should finding love be any different?

He hooked one hand around her thick thigh, pressing her leg around his waist. He eased forward, groaning as her body stretched to accommodate him. He was big all over and she wasn’t experienced. He’d known that from her kisses and hesitant caresses. He loved the way she came alive in his arms.

Skye watched Hank as he moved inside her. He held her gaze, pressing forward with slow, rhythmic thrusts that soon had her desire rising again. Inch by slow inch, he filled her, until with a groan, he completely sank himself inside her. Her breath caught momentarily at the shock of holding all of him again, but he remained perfectly still until she grew accustomed to his possession.

He leaned forward, taking her mouth as he withdrew, swallowing the moan that movement caused. Then, he was back, moving in and out in deep long strokes that were making her shiver in response. He moved with liquid grace, riding her, teasing her, taking her.

Oh, heaven’s above, was he taking her.

He rode her, barely allowing her to catch her breath between each thrust. Not that she wanted to. No, she was racing toward the edge, the coil inside of her tightening and ready to unwind.

“That’s it, take me, Skye. Let me love you.” His passion roughened voice broke the tension inside her and wave after wave of pleasure washed over her. A moment later, groaning her name, he thrust into her one final time and she felt him join her.

CHAPTER FIVE

. . .

It was two days later that the cold had finally moved on and the snow had begun to melt. With the thaw came the sound of the plows, clearing the way home. Skye stood at the kitchen window watching the big machines throw the snow to the side. She felt rather than heard Hank come up behind her. His large arms wrapped around her.

“Well, I guess paradise couldn’t last forever.” He pressed a kiss to her temple before moving away. “What would you like for breakfast?”

Skye turned to him, wondering exactly what his words meant. Now that the bubble around their world had burst, doubts slowly crept into her mind. Was he sorry the snow was being cleared and now she could leave? Or happy that the snow was being cleared and now she could leave? “Cereal is fine, if you have some.”

He turned to her, one dark brow arching. “I do, but I think we need more than that.”

“Whatever you want is fine.” He threw her another look, but didn’t say anything, instead turning to the fridge to remove some eggs and bacon. It was Monday morning. The snow had started on Friday. Her rescue had happened Friday afternoon. Three nights and two days she’d had with him. She should be grateful. They had been the best days and nights of her life.

So, why was she suddenly feeling chilled to the bone?

Because she was falling head over heels for him. And it scared her silly.

“I think I’ll go take a shower,” she murmured, watching him break the eggs and put the bacon on to cook.

“Sure. Breakfast should be ready by the time you’re done.” He threw another smile her way and she couldn’t help but return it. The last few days had been heavenly. She stopped on the way to the bathroom and retrieved the clothes she had worn Friday. They were washed and dried and laying on top of the washer and dryer. Even her bra and panties.

Skye used her time in the shower to formulate a speech. One that would tell Hank how much she’d come to care for him in such a short time without making her sound like a totally crazy person. Not one scenario made the cut.

How did you tell a man you’d only met three days ago that you were sure he was the one? He would definitely think she was some kind of coo-coo bird. Or worse, a woman who fell for the first guy who gave her any attention.

She turned off the shower and stepped out. Drying quickly, she dressed, feeling more like herself now that she had on her own clothes. The feeling of normalcy led to somewhat clearer thinking. She was a woman. One who had always been independent and self-sufficient. And as such, she could certainly tell Hank in a mature way that she had enjoyed their time together and hoped they could see one another again.

There. That sounded perfect.

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