Riding the Storm - Brenda Jackson [44]
Too late. He was inside and intended to fill her to capacity in more ways than one.
She pushed good judgment, initial misgivings and any lingering doubts aside. She would deal with them later. Right now, being in Storm’s arms this way was most important and demanded her full concentration. And everything about him—his scent, his strength, his very sensuality—permeated her skin, seeped into her blood and sent her senses spinning.
When he tore his mouth away from hers, she drew in a long audible sigh. She looked up at him and the air surrounding them seemed to crackle with ardent awareness. He reached out and traced a slow path down the center of her neck, then slowly pushed aside her robe to reveal what was underneath.
Nothing.
She heard his sharp intake of breath and he pushed the robe off her shoulders to the floor. “A few moments ago, I was thirsty for your mouth, but now I’m starving for this,” he said reaching out and stroking her between the legs. “Once I get you in bed, I plan to make love to you all night.”
His voice was low, uneven and so sexy that it sent shock waves all through her body. She met his gaze, saw the deep darkening of his eyes and any grip she had on reality slipped, joining her robe on the floor.
“That’s a promise I intend to hold you to, Storm Westmoreland,” she said on a breathless sigh, just seconds before he swept her into his arms.
Eight
“W hich way to your bedroom?”
“Straight ahead and to your right.”
Storm didn’t waste any time taking her there and immediately placed her naked body in the middle of the bed. He took a step back to look at her. For a moment, he couldn’t move, too overwhelmed by her beauty to do anything but to take it all in…and breathe. He ached to make love to her, and sink his body into the wet warmth of hers.
Love her.
Air suddenly left his lungs in a whoosh and he summoned all the strength he could not to fall flat on his face. The thought that he wanted to love her had been unintentional, absolutely ridiculous, outlandish and totally absurd. He only did non-demanding relationships and short-term affairs. He wasn’t into strings, especially the attached kind. He suddenly felt a tightening in his chest at the same time that he felt a bizarre quickening around his heart.
Hell! Something was wrong with him. Then, on second thought, maybe nothing was wrong with him. He was merely imagining things. He was aching so badly to be with Jayla again that he wasn’t thinking straight. That had to be it. When he got home later tonight, on familiar turf, his mind would be clear. And spending a day at the station tomorrow around the guys would definitely screw his head back on straight.
“Are you going to stand there all night, Storm?”
He blinked, attempting to clear his mind and immediately became entranced with the warmness of Jayla’s smile and the teasing heat of intimacy in her eyes. He swallowed deeply and tried to get a grip, but all he got was a harder arousal. “Not if I can help it,” he said, suddenly needing to connect with her that instant. He needed to touch her, taste her, mate with her.
Right now.
He yanked his T-shirt over his head and then began fumbling with the fastening of his jeans, and became irritated when the zipper wouldn’t slide down fast enough because of the size of his erection. Finally, he was able to tug his jeans down his legs and quickly stepped out of them. He reached down and took a condom packet out of the back pocket of the now discarded garment.
After he took the necessary steps, he looked at her and one corner of his mouth quirked up. “Now to keep that promise.”
Simply looking at Storm caused Jayla’s blood to pump rapidly through her veins. The look in his eyes said that he would hold nothing back. Her pulse quickened as he slid his body onto the bed. He moved, with the grace of a leopard,