Gone Tropical by Robena Grant

Author:Robena Grant [Grant, Robena]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Action-Suspense, Suspense, Contemporary
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press, Inc
Published: 2013-12-26T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Amy extricated herself from the tangle of arms and legs. But Jake felt so damn good. She closed her eyes for a few minutes and savored the warmth and comfort of pressing tight to his side. He was out cold.

She raised her head and looked at the clock, it was almost six thirty. Sarge had tapped on the door earlier and said Helen was fine and they should all go to dinner around seven p.m. Jake moved in, tangling around her, and pulling her closer. Her body went into overdrive, but she eased his arm off her waist.

“Oh, no, you are not going anywhere,” Jake said, his voice still husky from sleep.

He rolled her onto her back and pinned her arms. He kissed her mouth, ears, neck, and then down over her chest. She laughed and squirmed beneath him, pretending to resist. Her nipples strained against the fabric of her bra and she wanted to be free of her clothing. Her body heated up from within, her skin tingling and itching with the desire to rub against him, all over him.

As if on command, he reached up under her shirt and released the bra clasp. He fondled her breasts, teased and kissed her mouth, his tongue sweeping over her teeth and plunging inside. He shifted his position and worked fast to pull her T-shirt over her head and her shorts down over her feet.

“It’s late, Jake. Not much time,” she said, but undid the zipper on his shorts and pushed them down, running a hand over the length of him, through his underwear. She went hot and slick at the thought of the raw energy between them. Her entire body pulsed with need and she raised her hips to meet him, finding a rhythm as she ground against him.

He groaned against her neck. “Slow down, Amy, slow down, for chrissakes.”

“I want you now, Turner. I don’t care about anything else, no foreplay, no nothing.”

“Amy!”

She tugged at his underwear. “Now, Turner! We don’t have long. Sarge will be here at about seven.”

“Protection,” he murmured. “My kit…in the bathroom.”

“My backpack.” She indicated the side of the bed, reached for the backpack and pulled out the foil package. She tossed it to him. “Turn on the radio and go for it, Turner.”

“Geez, Amy, I mean, don’t I get to warm you up a bit?”

“Trust me on this, Turner, I’m hotter than you can handle.” Amy laughed, and then her laughter trapped in her throat as his boxers went flying. Oh my. He was more than ready. The weight of him nestled at her entrance, and she moved closer, seeking his heat. “Hurry.”

He eased back a bit. “Mmmm,” he murmured, fingers sliding inside of her. “You are ready.”

“Told you, and we’re losing valuable time—”

“Shhh.” He caught her lips in a kiss, his tongue probing, and entered her slowly, holding himself still for one moment.

Heat filled her body, and she wanted him, needed for him to move, but she couldn’t say anything because his mouth had captured hers.

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