She chuckled, but didn’t hold him in suspense. Tearing open the foil square, she removed the latex shield, placed it carefully over the tip of his throbbing dick, and rolled it into place.
Gage gritted his teeth, nostrils flaring as he fought to hold perfectly still, to not rush her or groan with delicious misery and risk slowing her down even more. Finally she finished, and he released a harsh breath.
Her hands moved to his shoulders while she laid there, staring up at him. Naked and welcoming and more beautiful than any woman had a right to be.
But he didn’t want to get emotional about this. Didn’t want to leave the door open to falling for her again, getting attached when there was no chance for reconciliation. He already had enough unfinished business to deal with where Jenna was concerned; he sure as shit didn’t need more.
So rather than think, rather than take the time to enjoy the sight of Jenna sprawled beneath him, open and ready, he lifted her leg to hook around his hip and drove home in one long, forceful stroke.
As foreplay went, it wasn’t exactly subtle or sophisticated. It didn’t need to be. The second he pushed inside her, he knew she was fully aroused and more than ready to accept him. And if he were any more primed, he’d go off like a geyser.
Her other leg came up to hug his waist, linking at the ankles and jerking him that much closer, that much deeper. At the same time, her arms looped around his neck, tugging him down until their chests touched and her breasts were trapped between them.
He could feel the sharp bite of her nipples, the warm dusting of her breath on his face, her heart beating in tandem with his own. His fingers flexed in the flesh of her upper thigh and he leaned in to take her mouth in a hot, mindless kiss.
She kissed him back, her tongue warring with his while the rest of her body arched and writhed. Her movements enflamed him further, dragging a raw moan up from his diaphragm.
Sliding his hand around to cup her left buttock, he anchored her in place as he began to thrust. Slowly at first, savoring the in and out motion, the exquisite friction of hard against soft. Wet heat surrounded him, clutched at him, made him want to beg for mercy.
Rational speech was a little out of his reach, though, so he settled instead for deepening the kiss and deepening his strokes. Tiny mewling sounds emanated from Jenna’s throat and her nails dug into his shoulders, letting him know she was right there with him. That the sensations building in his gut were also building in hers. That the flames licking their way up and down his spine were licking away at hers, as well. And whatever the female equivalent was of having his balls draw up in preparation for an orgasm to end all orgasms… well, that was there, too.
Her chest was heaving as she struggled to breathe, and finally she tore her mouth from his, sucking in gulps of much-needed oxygen. He followed her lead, then returned his lips to hers, kissing lightly before trailing his mouth along her cheek, up to her ear, down the taut column of her throat.
“Gage,” she moaned when she could once again form coherent words. “Gage. Gage. Gage.”
Hearing his name in that whispery, needy tone, from the lips of the woman he never thought he’d be with again, was like throwing gasoline on a brush fire. His temperature spiked, causing beads of sweat to break out all along his body, joining the fine layer of perspiration already there.
Her legs tightened around his waist, her arms around his neck as she rocked against him. Back and forth, harder and harder, grinding into his every thrust until they were both mindless and crying out for completion.
She came first, gasping, arching, gripping him like a vise. And since he’d only been hanging on, waiting for her to climax first, he let himself go.
His teeth clamped down on the muscle running between her neck and shoulder while his body convulsed with pleasure. He drove into her once, twice more, and then collapsed, feeling as drained and wrung out as an old dishrag.
He knew he was probably crushing her with his weight, but he couldn’t seem to find the strength to move his pinky finger, let alone the rest of his two-hundred-plus-pound bulk.
She didn’t seem to mind, though. Her arms and legs were still curled around him, and her fingers tickled through the short hair at the back of his head.
“Gage?” she asked after a couple minutes of near-silence, the only sound in the room that of their mingled breaths slowly returning to normal.
“Hmm?” He still hadn’t lifted his head, still didn’t have the energy.
“How many condoms were in that box?”
His brow arched and he summoned just enough control to lift his head a few inches to meet her mossy-green gaze. “I don’t know. Ten, twelve, twenty-four. Why?”
“I’m just trying to plan the rest of my evening. And figure out how soon we might have to make a trip to town to replenish our supply.”
It took a second for his sluggish brain to grasp her words, but when the meaning sank in, one corner of his mouth quirked up in a grin.
“I think we’ll be okay for tonight.” And if they ran out-tonight, tomorrow, the next day, any time, any hour-he’d simply hop on his Harley and cruise down to the nearest all-night convenience store.
He considered himself lucky that she’d been amenable to sleeping with him once-not counting last night’s tie-me-up, tie-me-down, use-me-for-your-own-selfish-wishes scenario. The fact that she was open to going another round-maybe several more rounds while he was sticking to her like glue, anyway-made him want to get down on his knees and thank every god of every religion on the planet… and then some.
It probably wasn’t smart. Probably wasn’t the best way to maintain distance, keep that invisible wall of divorce and opposing views between them, but at the moment he didn’t give a rat’s hairy ass. That might have been the Little General exerting his will over any protests his frontal lobe might have been making…
But that was all right with him, too. Once in a while, it seemed, his dick had some damn good ideas.
Jenna stood at the kitchen table, watching Gage stroll toward the barn.
Letting him stay at Aunt Charlotte’s with her-or at least stay without arguing, yelling, or giving him the silent treatment-probably wasn’t the wisest move ever. Letting him make love to her night and day and noon and midmorning was more along the lines of something that qualified her for shock therapy treatments. At the very least, she thought she should have her head examined.
Then again, the thing that had set all of this in motion to begin with-that ever-so-bright idea of drugging him, tying him to the bed, and using him to get pregnant-should probably have been run past a psychological professional beforehand, too.
So, in essence, this was all Grace and Ronnie’s fault. It had been their idea to start with, they’d badgered and cajoled her to go through with it, and if they hadn’t, she wouldn’t currently be in this mess.
Of course, “this mess” had her insides tingling like an electrified fence ’round the clock and had given her more bone-rattling, sense-zapping orgasms than she could count.
Literally. She’d lost track sometime after sixteen.
But she’d decided-admittedly, not necessarily with all of her brain cells functioning at top form-that a week of unfettered, uncommitted sex with her ex-husband wasn’t the worst thing in the world.
For one, it was incredible. Not just good, not just enjoyable, but blow-the-top-off-her-head, leave-her-gasping-like-a-fish-out-of-water amazing. There had been times over the past few days when she could have sworn she’d lost feeling in her extremities.
Yes, they’d always had chemistry, and sex had definitely been one of the highlights of their married days, but she didn’t remember it being this spectacular.