Fugitive Heart - By Bonnie Dee Page 0,64
her. He brought her right up to the edge, and when he gauged she was about to plummet over, he backed off, leaving her arching up and whining.
“Please,” she whimpered.
“Not yet.” His glance fell on the can of red paint. An opportunity like this was rare. He dipped a finger into the smooth liquid and trailed it over Ames’s body.
He half expected some snarky comment about finger painting, but she held utterly still, belly twitching and breath hitching as he drew tribal designs on her flesh. The contrast of the deep red against her pale skin was dramatic—erotic and arousing, not that he needed any extra encouragement right now. His cock strained against the air in its need to plunge into her.
By the time he’d filled the canvas of her skin to his satisfaction, Ames was quivering, her pelvis rocking slightly in anticipation. She looked so amazing this way, decorated and desirous, that he wished he had a camera, but instead Nick took a mental picture to file away.
She held out her arms. “Come now. Let’s see if I leave a print on you.”
He needed no more encouragement and quickly put on a condom, then lay over her. The paint slid smoothly between them except in places where it was beginning to grow tacky as it dried.
“Hm, maybe not so sexy after all,” he murmured against her paint-stained cheek.
“No. It’s sexy.” Her fingers dug into his ass and hauled him against her. His cock slid home, and Nick groaned with relief.
He pushed deep, thrilled at Ames’s quiet gasp near his ear, withdrew and thrust again. The rhythm of lovemaking was as ancient as the flow of tides, nothing new about it, and yet everything new every time with Ames. Nick hadn’t been much of a believer in the concept of finding someone special. He’d been through a number of women in his life and hadn’t caught a glimpse of what the fuss was about. Now it was as if an avalanche had come down on him, and he totally got all the talk of “love”.
“Nick.”
Her murmur of his name made something swell through him that was far more powerful than mere lust. Hard to put a finger on what it was exactly. All he knew was that he craved more of it. He could never get enough of that feeling.
“Ames,” he whispered back.
“Nick, you’re pulling my hair,” she said. “Could you move your hand an inch or two?”
He chuckled at his misreading of the moment and moved his hand. But the humor only added to the feeling of rightness he had with Ames. She was exactly who he wanted, now and forever.
Tension tightened inside him with every push, pulled like a wire to the breaking point, and then suddenly it broke. Pleasure exploded through him, and he shuddered as he came.
He continued to move inside her. Feeling Ames coming so close to the edge, he wasn’t going to leave her hanging there. And then she made a funny high-pitched yip and bucked against him. Ah, there it was.
Her greedy hands continued to clutch his rear, holding him tight inside her with every clenching muscle until they both came back down to earth. Nick opened his eyes and looked into her bright blue gaze. She smiled, and his heart flip-flopped.
“By the way, I like what you’ve done with the place,” he said.
He pushed a loop of hair from her forehead—she had such cheerful, energetic curls. She grinned up at him. “You even like the red? I was afraid it was a little too much even for one wall.”
“Love the red. And every time I walk into this room, I’ll remember how the color looked on you.”
She glanced down at their bodies, fused together by paint. “Sticky. We’d better shower before it dries on any more.”
Nick got up and held out a hand to help Ames to her feet. They were both smeared with wine red and looked a little like accident victims. The image of blood brought him back to the moment when he’d seen Ames approaching and he’d thought for an instant the red on her hands and spattered on her clothing was blood. He’d come too close to losing her too many times already. Something about seeing the woman he loved held at gunpoint made a man want to not waste any time.
He grabbed her hand as she turned to head to the bathroom. “Wait. Ames, I know I’m jumping the gun. We hardly know each other. Hell, we’ve