Page 20 of Teach Me
There, that hadn’t sounded too horny—
She shoved up abruptly, surprising him—man, she learned fast—and brought her elbow around toward his temple in the same moment. As he tried to counterbalance her move and keep himself atop her, a solid strike landed on the side of his head. He jerked back instinctively, his weight working against him, pulling him even farther off balance, and at the same time, Jess curled a foot up to her middle and struck out, landing a concrete kick to his chest. Laughing, rolling away, Con put his hands up defensively.
“I give! I give!” he said, but she was having none of it. Jess scrambled on top of him, reversing their positions as she straddled his hips, her hands pinning his beside his head. A smug smile lit her face.
“Gotcha!”
“Oh, now you’re asking for it,” he growled. Twisting his hands, he circled out of her grip, forcing her to scramble for position as he bridged and rolled. She shrieked as her back hit the mat but managed to get one knee tucked up to her chest. Con landed with his elbow near her head, his weight already tipped. Jess, seeing her chance, pushed, the press of her knee sending him back over onto the mat. With a firm grip on her shoulders, he took Jess with him.
She hovered above him, her hair hanging in a curtain around her face, shielding them in their own private space. Laughing. The light in her eyes pulled him in. Without thought he speared his fingers through the thick brown strands of her hair, needing to feel them, to feel her—to hold some small part of her to him. Only when she moaned did he realize what he’d done.
“Jess, I—”
She blinked down at him, once, twice, then leaned in, and her lips settled deliberately against his.
Chapter Nine
Warmth and salt and man. He tasted so good she knew she’d never regret taking advantage. And his lips were a perfect fit. He didn’t jockey for position; he used his grip in her hair to adjust her, control her, put her exactly where he wanted her. Oddly enough, the thought didn’t generate panic. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her.
A trickle of sweat seeped down the crevice between her breasts, but it had nothing to do with exertion and everything to do with the hunger burning inside her.
Conlan’s tangled fingers drew her away. She held her breath, afraid of what he’d see, afraid he’d call a halt. The opposing fears warred inside her head as she waited. When he didn’t move, she tried to, needing him, wanting him, but he tightened his hand in her hair¸ holding her still. She fought the moan that struggled to escape.
Conlan heard it anyway. Enjoyed it. “That’s right,” he crooned, his warm breath highlighting the wetness of her lips. “Tell me all about it, baby.”
“Con, please…”Don’t stop. Don’t turn me away. Don’t say no.
He didn’t; instead he brought her down to him, nose to nose, eyes locked. He slid the tip of his tongue along the open crease of her mouth. This time, wanting to please him, she let her moan whisper out into the tiny space that separated them.
He rewarded her with the delicate rub of his lips across hers. With short, rough nips that made her head spin. The soft touches tenderized her heart; the hard ones revved her higher. Only his grip kept her anchored in the moment—his grip and her need for more. She couldn’t help pushing forward, pressing, needing his tongue in her mouth, begging for attention until at last his firm lips settled atop hers with a hard, hungry pressure that caused a loud whimper to escape.
God, he could give her lessons anytime if they all ended like this. The man was an expert, and not just in self-defense. He made her hunger in a way she’d never experienced before, to the point where the past, the fear, the uncertainty fell away and all that was left was him. So good, and yet still not enough.
And, maybe, not enough for him too. He tilted his head, his mouth slanting solidly over hers, his tongue taking advantage of her parted lips and delving inside, heavy and searing hot. He explored her, rasped across her teeth, smoothed the inside of her lower lip, traced the ridges along the roof of her mouth. His hands gripped tight at her hips, his hold unbreakable, conquering her even as she surrendered. Giving him words was impossible, but she gave him sounds, little tiny mews that couldn’t have been clearer if she’d tried—except she could, when his mouth gentled and his power mixed with tenderness. She speared her fingers through his short hair, mimicking his hold, and said the only word her brain could come up with. “Yes.”
That seemed to be all the direction he needed. He loosed her hair, freeing his fingers to trace the heated skin of her neck, her shoulders, her back. Her T-shirt was so thin she might as well have been naked. All the better to feel his touch—if she’d been truly bare, her heart might give out. His hands on her body, the heat of his firm belly between her spread legs. The craving to be closer to him, to feel his skin, his muscles, his rigid length against all of her built and built and built—and still she arched over him, unable to tip herself over the edge of restraint. When Conlan’s hand smoothed down to rest on the sensitive small of her back, circling, demanding, urging her to lie flat against him, she whined her frustration into his mouth.
Conlan separated them, his breath a harsh rasp in the silent room. Jess let her head hang from his grip, down between her shaking arms, and tried hard to breathe with him.
“Damn, woman.”
A ragged laugh escaped. And then a gasp as, with heart-stopping ease, Conlan clasped her rigid forearms and pushed her up. Her elbows bent, folding in as if obeying his unspoken command, and then he had her against him, laid out along his torso. Beneath her, he opened his mouth to take hers, controlling her even flat on his back, his kiss hard and rough and possessive. It was all Jess could think about until his hands gripped her hips and pushed, centering her over the rigid shaft along his lower belly.
A strangled sound burst from Conlan’s throat, half laugh, half groan. It sent pleasure shooting through her, mixing with the eye-rolling feel of his sex against hers. Rough hands grasped the waist of her yoga pants and pushed, forcing the fabric down to rest below her butt cheeks. Embarrassment choked her until his palms, burning hot, cupped her there, covering her, kneading her. Holding her still as he ground his erection between the spread lips of her core.
Frantic, desperate, their searching mouths and hands and hips came together in ferocious need. Jess was lost in Conlan’s dark taste, the scent of him filling her lungs, the rhythm of his hips taking her over into mindless want. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else existed.
A primal moan rumbled deep in his chest. Her nipples tightened in response, and she wished so many layers didn’t separate them. She wanted to feel his skin under her hands, against her naked breasts. Just the thought of his mouth on her sensitive nipples, drawing, sucking, tightened something deep in her belly, as if a cord attached her clit and her womb and the tension was twisting so tight she wouldn’t last until the breaking point.
Conlan tore his mouth away from hers. “Jess—”
Tap tap tap.
Conlan’s hips lifted off the mat, driving harder against her.
Tap tap tap.“Con, are you still here?”
Jess jerked at the sweet voice breaking through the fog inside her head. Breath sharp, fast, she tried to make sense of the sound until her world tilted. Conlan sat up, not even bothering to lift her off him. His arms were solid around her, keeping her safe, holding her to him, but nothing could erase the swift heat of humiliation when she realized what that voice meant. Lori had come into the room, was probably looking straight at her.
