Page 38 of Heated Rivals
Her lips twitched. “You are a very strange man, James Halloran.”
“Lovely, you have no idea.” He kissed her, soft and slow, taking his time because neither of them had anywhere to be, and fuck if he’d rush this. For the first time, he had her in a house with walls between them and the rest of the world—not the backseat of his car or, worse, the goddamn storage closet in a club. She went soft as he traced the seam of her lips with his tongue. He pulled back, framing her face with his hands. “Come to bed with me.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Carrigan couldn’t shake the feeling that this was about to change everything. She could get up and walk away, and he’d let her. She knew James well enough to know that now. Or she could say yes to his question that wasn’t a question and jump headfirst down the rabbit hole.
I only have a little less than two weeks left. What do I really have to lose?
Nothing.
But it still felt like a huge step when she nodded. “Yes.”
He didn’t move. “Yes?”
“Take me to bed, James.”
He grinned and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. Then he was up and sweeping her into his arms. She gave a startled shriek. “Hey!”
“Let me have my caveman ways.” He strode through the house, not bothering to turn on any more lights and not missing a step despite the shadows. Henudged open a door with his foot and kicked it shut behind them. She sent him a questioning look, which he answered. “Guest bedroom. I don’t think anyone used it in the entire time this place has been ours.”
He set her carefully on her feet. “Don’t move.”
His terse orders shouldn’t set fire to her blood. She hated orders in every other part of her life, so it didn’t make a damn bit of sense that when they came from James, she had to fight not to melt into a puddle at his feet. He turned on two lamps near the bed, bathing the room in a warm glow.
She took the opportunity to look around. There were more paintings on the walls—a large one of the turbulent ocean, a dark storm rolling in. Staring at it, Carrigan could almost taste the sea air and feel the wind on her face. His mother had been gifted. The other painting was of a lighthouse standing guard on a rocky coast. It made her think of James, standing alone against the world.
“You like them?”
“They’re beautiful.” It was enough to make her want to wander this house and see what other treasures she’d find. She turned and found James inches away, his blue eyes roaming over her hungrily.Another time. Her body flashed hot at the memory of what he’d done the last time they were alone. “Touch me.”
“Lovely, it would be my fucking pleasure.”
But he didn’t immediately reach for her. Instead, he circled her once and then stopped behind her. She tensed at the feel of his hands on the bare skin at the nape of her neck, but the tension fled as his thumbs dug into the tight muscles there. She bit her lip to keep from moaning.
“I thought so.” He stopped massagingher long enough to unzip the back of her dress and let it fall to the floor. Her bra quickly joined it, leaving her in only a pair of panties. “On the bed—facedown.”
Her body obeyed before her mind had a chance to catch up, but what was there to protest? He made her feel good time and time again. Tonight would be no different. Carrigan climbed onto the bed and settled facedown. The comforter was faded from countless washings and smelled faintly of lilacs. She turned her head and watched James strip, his gaze never leaving her body. He shrugged out of the leather jacket and tossed it onto the chair by the bed. Next came his T-shirt, shoes, and jeans. Each move was methodical and precise—and all the more erotic for it. The only thing he left on was a pair of boxer-briefs. His body was roped with muscle from long hours in the gym, but he’d stopped just short of it being overwhelming.
She frowned when he moved closer. There werescarson his chest. And not just a few. Nearly every inch of skin was covered with them. She’d felt the irregularities the last time they had sex, but she’d been too distracted to think aboutwhyhis skin felt that way. Those weren’t fighting scars, either. They were too perfectly spaced. “James—”
“I’ve bared all the soul I’m going to tonight, lovely.” He climbed onto the bed and moved to straddle her hips. She started to turn over, but his hands on her shoulders stopped her. “Just relax. You need this as much as I do.”
The scent of lotion reached her, and then his hands were back on her skin, digging in and working out all the tightness in her muscles. This time she couldn’t fight back a moan. She’d known the man had magic hands, but apparently they extended beyond sex. He moved slowly over her, spending precious attention on everyinch of her. By the time he reached the small of her back, she was boneless and would have agreed to damn near anything he’d asked of her.
James moved to the side. “Over.” She obeyed, rolling onto her back, and he started the process again—this time beginning at her feet and working upward. If his work on her back had left her languid and relaxed, this was entirely different. Her nerves sang to life as he moved up her calf and over her thigh. She dug her hands into the comforter. All the feel-good sensation he’d created shifted, centering between her legs.
He stopped a bare inch away from where she needed him. “Not yet.”
Carrigan lifted her head to glare. “I’m ready.”
“I never leave a job half-finished.” He moved to her other side and dug his thumbs into the sensitive arch of her foot. Against her wishes, her eyes drifted shut and she moaned again. He cursed, and his grip tightened for a single second before he moved to her calf. If she thought his desire would make him rush through this, she was sorely mistaken. He was slow and methodical and, by the time he’d reached her upper thigh, she was damn near panting for him.
“James, please.”
“You don’t sound relaxed.” His wicked grin only stoked her need higher. He used a finger to trace the seam of her panties, dragging over the scalloped lace edge.Stillnot where she wanted his touch most. She lifted her hips, trying to guide him, but he used his free hand to pin her to the bed. “You’re wet for me, lovely, aching for what only I can give you.” His thumb stopped directly over her clit. With a little pressure and movement, hecould send her hurtling over the edge, but he didn’t give her either. “It’s a damn shame you’re going to be needing me for a little bit longer.”
“What—goddamn it.”
