Page 51 of Turn Up The Heat

Shane shook his head and kissed her. “Nothing. You’re a little too right, that’s all, and I’d like this to last.”

Bellamy slid a hand around the waistband of his boxers, hooking her thumb under the elastic. “God, me too.”

He gave her a smile so slow and provocative, she had to suck in a breath. His fingers delved between her legs to her inner thigh, stroking the edge of her panties. Bellamy’s knees opened in invitation, and he didn’t disappoint. He slipped a finger past her panties and into her pussy with ease, drawing tight circles against her clit with his thumb. Shane’s finger was joined by another, and the steady, slow rhythm sent sparks through her. He tested different speeds and movements, then slid down her body to fit his shoulders between her thighs. Without speaking—God, words weresooverrated—he hooked her panties aside and slid his tongue over her clit. He wasn’t gentle and she didn’t want him to be, rocking her hips to keep the contact between them firm. Whether he was encouraged by her movements or her moans or something else entirely, Bellamy had no idea. In fact, she might not even know her name.

But she sure as hell knew his.

“Shane.Oh—”

She tried to follow it with an actual word, but the only thing that made it past her lips was the heavy cry of the orgasm that crashed into her. He worked her through every pleasured wave, until finally she went limp against the blanket.

“You are perfect when you come undone.”

Bellamy’s eyes fluttered open to reveal Shane’s unwavering gaze. None of her partners had ever watched her come, and while a tiny, faraway piece of her rational brain told her she should be self-conscious, she wasn’t.

She was too busy wanting to watchhimcome in return.

“Shane.” She ran her palms over the scattering of dark hair on his chest, enjoying the shudder it brought from him as she skimmed over his nipples. When her hands reached his shoulders, she guided him over her and lifted her lips to his ear. “I want your cock inside me.” She arched to meet the body part in question, the cotton of his boxers giving just enough friction against her clit to tempt her to moan, but she held steady. With one swift yank, the fabric between them was history.

Shane quickly put on a condom and returned to hover over her, trailing kisses from her ear to her open, waiting lips. He nudged her knees wide, fitting into the tightness of her pussy with one hard thrust.

“Like that. Oh, just like that.” Bellamy’s caught as he fucked her in long, slow strokes, pleasure rekindling low in her belly. When Shane gripped her hips to rock into her even harder, she opened her eyes to watch him. His expression was both fierce and exquisite, and as she watched him go bowstring tight in release, she went over the edge right alongside him.

They lay in the shadows of nightfall, wrapped around each other in a tangle of heated skin and breath, and talked until their growling stomachs lured them out from beneath the blanket. Over a couple of granola bars, Bellamy told Shane about the disastrous time she tried to take a breakfast shortcut by hard-boiling eggs in the microwave, her first true cooking debacle. The peals of laughter continued through Shane’s recounting of the day he discovered—the hard way—that the gas gauge in the Mustang was faulty and he and Jackson had to be rescued by the local Girl Scout troop passing by. They traded stories back and forth with seamless ease, and Bellamy couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so genuinely good.

Only when she shivered from the true chill in the garage did Bellamy realize that night had fallen. She and Shane snuggled right back beneath the blanket, whispering and laughing about everything and nothing in the dark of the garage, until they were both so tired that they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

17

The grating scrape of metal on asphalt jolted Shane from a dead sleep, and he lifted his head from his lumpy excuse for a pillow, a.k.a. a balled-up sweatshirt. Sun streamed in through the windows, so overbright that his eyes had no hope of adjusting, and he went to rake a hand through his hair in an effort to jump-start his brain.

His arm refused to budge. And what was with thatnoise?

“Ugh, shhh,” Bellamy murmured drowsily, and she burrowed farther beneath the blanket, rubbing her back against the cradle of his hips before sighing back to sleep. His arms were wrapped around her from behind, the one that lay by her head completely asleep, the other resting right between her cashmere-covered tits.

The memory of the night before filtered back into his brain like a series of wicked dreams, and although Shane was sore as hell from sleeping on the concrete floor, the warmth of Bellamy’s body against his kept him happily rooted to the offending spot. He shifted even closer, acutely aware of the rise and fall of her chest under his hand. Man, she smelled so good, even after spending the night on the floor of the garage. Shane closed his eyes, drifting back into the feel of her fuzzy sweater, of the incredible skin that lay beneath it…

The side door to the garage banged open with a rude thud, scaring the ever-loving shit out of him.

“Shane? You in here?” Even though he recognized the voice right away, Shane still froze to his spot under the blanket.

Shit. Shitshitshit! Bellamy did the shift-and-snuggle, her slow breaths suggesting she was still very much asleep and about to get the shock of her life. Shane leaned forward to put a gentle whisper in her ear in order to soften the blow, but it was too late. Jackson rounded the passenger side of the Mustang, coming into view.

“Damn, buddy, I had no idea you’d still be…whoa!” Jackson skidded to a halt as soon as he saw the two of them lying on the floor, wrapped up together just as easy as you please. Bellamy chose that exact moment to wake up with a start, looking disoriented as hell. She sucked in a breath at the sound of Jackson’s voice, then promptly gave a startled, full-body jerk that landed her butt squarely on Shane’s raging morning hard-on.

Right. Because the whole morning-after thing wasn’t awkward enough.

“Morning, Jax,” Shane said, trying to come up with a graceful way out of the situation while getting his dick to cooperate. It was a tall order on both counts, seeing as how her body pressed into him from head to toe.

“This is Bellamy Blake.” Shane gestured in front of him with his chin before sliding her hips from his in a careful move, despite the nasty dual protest from his brain and his cock. “Bellamy, Jackson Carter.”

Jackson’s eyes could’ve doubled for a pair of sky-blue Frisbees as they darted from Bellamy to Shane to the door and back again. “I, uh. Wow. I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to…wow. Yeah.”

Bellamy singlehandedly de-fused Jackson’s awkwardness and Shane’s dilemma with one smooth move. She popped up from beneath the blanket, folding it back behind her to give Shane some breathing room before she stood up and padded, sock-footed, over to the spot where Jackson stood gaping.

“Hi, Jackson. Nice to meet you.” Bellamy extended her hand. Her no-nonsense smile made it look like she’d just waltzed into a job interview, not off the concrete floor of a garage where she’d been pretzeled around the guy’s best friend.

Under any other circumstances, Shane would’ve had a good, long laugh at the look on Jackson’s face. As it was, Shane was still working on talking Mr. Happy down from the good-morning-to-youledge, so he shut up and stayed put.

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