Page 47 of Catch and Release Groom

Wicked intent edged the lopsided quirk of Easton’s lips. “Tick-tock, sweetheart.”

Happenstance, or a purposeful callback to their day paddling swans across the lake?

Like earlier in the river, this term of endearment carried a more intimate inflection, too. But if she cracked the lid on that box, she’d have to assessallits contents, and she’d rather not calculate the high probability of future heartache.

If she went there,she’d be responsible for extinguishing the passion. After years spent wishing and hoping, she refused, and so she narrowed her focus on the other package she was about to unveil.

“Sorry,big guy.” The roll of her hips evoked a gratifying grunt, and she aimed a pointed look at his crotch. “But I’m calling your bluff about this being a limited-time-only offer.”

Easton sat up, and they released uniform groans as her center notched up against his erection. “I meant until the thong meets its demise. You…” His nose grazed her cheek and her jaw, and then he pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column of her neck. “I’ll be wrecking you shortly.”

A pleasant chill shivered down her spine as he licked and nipped the skin at the base of her throat. There was a reason she shouldn’t give in quite yet, but for the life of her, she couldn’t remember what it was.

What shedidknow was that her hands were empty, and she ought to amend that ASAP. She reached between them, an embarrassingly eager noise slipping out as she infiltrated the flap of his boxer briefs and gripped his shaft. With a little self-control and some gentle maneuvering, she guided his arousal all the way out.

She was mid-gape when Easton grasped the front of her thong in his fist and ripped the straps clean off her hips with an exhilarating jerk. A low rumble of satisfaction emanated from him as he tossed the tattered remains over his shoulder—and out of the truck.

Just as Imogen was about to goad him over owing her a new pair of underwear, he dipped his head and sucked one of her breasts into his mouth. A supercharged zing shot down to her core, where it pulsated and throbbed and left her needier than ever.

“…my hands on these since day one,” he muttered as he palmed her other breast, using his forefinger and thumb to tweak and perform sweet, sweet torture. “Even better than I imagined.”

“Mmmmm,” she added, because that was all she could manage under the sexy circumstances.Moisture pooled between her thighs, and she increased her grip on his cock, stroking the steely length and rolling her thumb over the head.

He grunted, his hips pistoning and his body convulsing.

His fingers manacled her wrist, and why was he cutting short their fun? She must’ve conveyed the question well enough with her crumpled brow, because he rubbed soothing circles on the spot on her hip he’d also clasped—to hold heroffhim. “I don’t suppose you have a condom?”

Condom.The word rattled around her head somewhat mockingly—it’d been so long since she’d needed any form of protection besides the pill, but she hadn’t filled the prescription since calling off the wedding.

“No. I didn’t think that I’d… It’s not something I planned for on this trip, so…” She cast her gaze around the truck until she found the item. “Your vest. Surely you have one in there.”

“I don’t,” he said, and she shook her head as if that’d change the outcome.

“All those pockets and you don’t have a condom?” Her voice pitched up an octave or two, enough to scare away a few of the warblers in the branches overhead. No peepshow for those dirty birdies.

Even sadder, no live-action version for her.

“Look, watching you and feeling you come around my fingers, that was…” His drawl brought out the gruffness in his voice, only turning her on more and increasing the slick demand between her thighs. “That’s enough for me.”

“No, it’s not,” she argued. As incredible as her orgasm had been, it’d left her greedy for another.

Chemistry as combustible as theirsdeservedfurther exploration. Say, if the tornado of lust, pheromones, and the inability to keep their hands off each other would result in the holy grail of orgasms—internal fireworks achieved through penetration.

It couldn’t end at third base,it just couldn’t.

So here she sat, in the middle of nowhere, in the back of a country boy’s truck, debating the merits of the pull-out method.

Okay, there’s risk and there’s recklessness.

“You know what? It’s fine. We’ll just work with what we’ve got.” She wiggled her fingers, eager to renew her ministrations, but still, he held her at bay. “Easton, in order for you to have a release, you have to release me.”

“Imogen.”An inferno raged within the amber depths of his eyes that met hers, and she held her ground and stared intently back.

“Either you let me finish you off here and now, or we rush to a place that sells condoms. Do you think that little general store next to the resort has some? They cater to honeymooners, for God’s sake.”

“I…” Easton blew out his breath as he glanced down, which made her follow suit, and watching him readjust himself made her even hornier.

An obnoxious, generic ringtone rang out.

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