down, but not before he produced a foil packet from somewhere and ripped it open with his teeth and sheathed himself beneath the water line while she peeled the Lycra down her thighs, then used her toes to push it the rest of the way. She tugged the band from her hair and ran her fingers through it, feeling like a goddess to his god.
They slid deeper into the cool blue depths together, eye to eye, skin to skin, foreheads touching, legs entwining, his erection hot and hard and heavy against her belly.
Not close enough. Not yet.
Water lapped at their shoulders, the palm fronds above them lazily limp in the heat that shimmered off the sand surrounding them. Nothing moved, nothing changed in this timeless spot, and for a moment it was as if the world were holding its breath, waiting.
Chloe knew their world wasn’t waiting, the world of high finance and corporate luncheons to cater was far away, though in days this magical time would be over.
‘This place is ours,’ she said fiercely. ‘This memory is ours.’ And nothing could take that away from her. Gripping his jaw in her hands, she fused her mouth to his as if she could draw him into herself.
But he was the one who took control, took her under. Dark, dangerous delight as his tongue swept in to tangle with hers. Demand in his hands that seemed to be everywhere at once; her shoulders, her breasts, down her spine to cup her bottom and yank her closer.
Last night’s starlit fantasy melted in the white-hot glare of a desert afternoon. There were no seductive word pictures this time, no whispered images and moonlight imaginings. Only moans and groans, need and greed.
Strong, relentless fingers found her centre. Fast slippery strokes, the glimpse of glory to come, and she gasped, her head falling back as the world spun out of control. Faster. Her entire body trembling now until the sky seemed to shimmer to white and explode into a million suns.
Before she could collapse, he caught her in the steel cradle of his arms and plunged inside her with a groan—one deep thrust to the hilt—driving her up again.
All she could see was him. In his eyes she saw blazing desire, demand and desperation. The words he muttered were hot and harsh and shockingly explicit against her mouth. She licked them from his tongue, then matched them with equal intensity, while her fingers kneaded and plucked and scraped whatever flesh they came in contact with.
Chloe raked unmerciful fingernails down his back, and Jordan gritted his teeth, pleasure balanced on a fine needlepoint of pain. Her amber eyes shone—she knew exactly what she was doing.
The need for speed hammered through him, his blood echoing the same frantic rhythm, but he pulled out slowly, slowly, watching her eyes widen, her pupils dilate, a little panic filter through the haze. He smiled. Payback. Then plunged deep, back into that hot, tight paradise.
He’d known Chloe wasn’t the submissive sort but he hadn’t been sure if her adventurous spirit extended to her sexual preferences until now. Greed matched greed, heat matched heat, passion matched passion. Never had he found a woman so compatible with his own sexual desires. When he groaned, she sighed. When he bowed, she arched. When he asked, she gave. She was a sensual whirlwind of perfume and water-slick skin. Peaches and cream and wild abandon.
She convulsed around him, her hands fisted against his chest, eyes glazed while she cried her triumphant release. His own vision blurred as he leapt over the sweet abyss with her.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
IT WAS A while before he could clear the haze from his mind and find his way back to something approaching rational. Somehow he’d managed to manoeuvre them both near enough to the edge of the pool to stretch out on the sand without drowning, and they lay wet and entwined like a couple of pieces of ragged river weed.
‘We’re going to burn,’ she said lazily. ‘All over. It won’t be pretty. And it’s guaranteed to be painful.’
He turned to look at her. Her arms were crossed over her eyes and her skin glistened with water but a satisfied smile curved her lips. In fact, she looked like the kitty cat who’d happily wallowed in a pond of cream.
His own smile was quick to follow. He rubbed the flat of his palm over the nearest breast and felt the hard little bead beneath. ‘You’d be pretty whatever colour your skin was.’
She swiped