Page 42 of High Intensity

As soon as I step over the threshold, I’m instantly swarmed by the dogs. A good distraction while I try to come up with an appropriate answer. When I can’t find one, I opt for honesty.

“I’ve been thinking about you a large part of my day and I wanted to see you.”

That smug little half-smile I’ve seen her flash a time or two makes another appearance.

“I see.” She turns and leads the way into the living room, while I scramble to ditch my coat and kick off my boots. “You mentioned you’d be back late, so I kinda figured I wouldn’t seeyou.” She abruptly turns around. “Not that I’m complaining, but I might’ve put something else on.”

She’s wearing a pair of cutoff flannel men’s pajamas and an old slouchy T-shirt. I’m not complaining either; she looks relaxed, cutely rumpled, and extremely approachable. Which is why, instead of telling her so, I show her.

There is no resistance when I walk up and pull her into my arms, and I give myself an inner fist pump when she hooks me behind the neck and lifts up on her toes. That pretty mouth of hers smiles up at me, and I can’t resist.

God, I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of her taste. All five-foot whatever of her is pressed up against me. Soft skin and lithe muscle warm under my hands, as the modest swell of her breasts seems to beg for attention. After spending the better part of my day thinking about the feel and the sight of her, I’m already beyond resisting temptation.

I slide my left hand from the small of her back to her soft belly and up, cupping her perfect handful. Her deep moan vibrates against my tongue, and all I can think about is getting us naked.

So much for my slow seduction plans, with barely a hello, and no conversation of any value before ending up with a hand up her shirt, the other down the back of her shorts, and my tongue down her throat. From zero to high intensity, and my heart is about to beat out of my chest.

Classy, Lucas. Classy.

What snaps me out of my lust-filled haze is the feel of her small hand palming the rock-hard ridge behind my fly. I quickly trap her wrist in my hand before she finds her way into my jeans.

“If I feel your skin on my cock, I’m gonna make a goddamn mess,” I pant into her mass of hair, trying to will my body into submission.

I’m not looking for a quick physical release. Not this time, and not with Jillian. If we’re taking this step, I want to minimize the risk I fuck it up, and make sure she’s taken care of properly.

“Maybe I like things messy,” she teases, eliciting a pained moan from me.

Bending through my knees, I gently bite the tender skin where her neck meets her shoulder, while sliding my hand farther down her shorts to slip my fingers between her legs.

“Damn, and I sure like messy on you.”

I hear her breath catch as I dip a finger between her folds. It feels like warm, liquid silk.

“Hop up,” I instruct her, moving both my hands to her butt.

The moment she jumps, I start moving toward her bedroom, but instead of tossing her on the bed, I slowly lower her to her feet in front of the dresser. Then I turn her around so she faces the large mirror sitting on top.

“Look at you,” I mumble against the skin of her neck, my hands already busy sliding her shirt up.

Jillian’s face is flushed, her lips slick and swollen, and her eyes smoldering as they follow the path of my touch. My rough hands stand out in contrast against her delicate, pale skin. She voluntarily lifts her arms so I can slide the shirt off her, leaving her with only the flannel cutoffs hanging low off her hips.

Cupping both her breasts, I brush the pads of my thumbs over her pink, distended nipples. In the mirror I watch as she catches her bottom lip between her teeth and tilts her head to offer me her neck. I find her pulse with my lips, opening my mouth to suck on her skin while using one hand to slide down her shorts and cup the neatly trimmed patch of russet hair at the apex of her thighs.

She leans her head back against my shoulder; a strong, independent woman giving herself over to my touch, handing me her trust, and I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.

Suddenly I’m in a hurry to feel her skin to skin, and with an arm around her waist I gently bend her forward, urging her to brace herself on the dresser. Then I whip off my shirt and unbutton my fly. Her eyes follow my every move.

I retrieve a foil packet from my jeans before shoving them down my hips.

“Commando,” she whispers, a soft smile on her lips as she watches me roll on the condom. Then her eyes find mine. “A rebel after all.”

She’s already lifting her ass when I put a hand on her hip, and with my other hand, I guide myself into her body.

“Oh fuck,” she mumbles when I sink inside her, and I immediately freeze.

She’s small, I should’ve been more careful. But when I start to pull out, she reaches back and digs her fingers in the globe of my ass.

“Don’t you dare move,” she growls, as she does this roll with her hips that sends a charge of pleasure-pain up my spine.

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