his hand away briefly to lower the zipper of her shorts before snaking his hand inside. “Take what you want.”
It wasn’t perfect. Her panties were still a barrier, but she was already running toward the cliff edge of release, and nothing could stop her now. He kissed her and ground the heel of his palm against her sex and she rocked, rocked, rocked against him.
Then she was flying, orgasm splintering and fracturing, and she gasped huge lungfuls of air. Her muscles clenched. They pulsed. They sang. When she came, she buried her face in his hair and screwed her eyes shut, blotting out the senses she didn’t need so that she could feel as much as possible.
When she floated back down to earth, there was nothing but the sound of her own breath and the rain. And the crackle of excitement. Trent’s arms were around her, cradling her, as she clung to him.
“I like that bit, too,” she said softly, feeling her cheeks flush. But there was nothing to be embarrassed about. Didn’t a woman deserve a ground-shaking orgasm every so often? Didn’t a woman deserve to feel wanted and beautiful and powerful?
And she did feel that way. Even if she sucked at knowing the right thing to say or how to be sexy or enticing. Even if her scars and insecurities were deep. Even if she’d had fleeting thoughts that her life was going nowhere and nobody would ever love her again…if they ever had in the first place.
“See, and what if we’d rushed straight over all that?” He stretched up to his full height but kept her tucked against him. Wet T-shirt pressed against her cheek. “That would have been a tragedy.”
“Agreed.” But she wasn’t done, not by a long shot. “Unless you want to stop?”
“No bloody way.” He tilted her head back and kissed her slowly. “Do you want to stop?”
“No bloody way,” she echoed with a grin.
“I’m going to start calling you my little cockatoo if you keep mimicking me,” he said.
The nickname warmed her heart, and that was a little scary. Because her heart wasn’t invited to this dance—neither was her brain. This was strictly a hands and mouth and down-there-bits only kind of occasion.
“I don’t care what you call me, so long as you take me to bed.” Okay, so maybe she did have a few moves up her sleeve. Apparently, all she needed was one orgasm to get her sexy talk on.
“Why don’t we watch the storm?”
“Outside?” Her heart skipped a beat.
“Sure. You’re not afraid of anyone seeing, are you?” His smile was so wicked, it made her sex clench.
The house was pretty isolated, with its long driveway and densely packed trees and sprawling block. No would see them… Would they?
“Do you have a blanket?” she asked.
He nodded. Lowering himself to his knees in front of her, Trent placed a kiss at her navel and worked her denim shorts over her hips. Then her lace-trimmed panties followed and she was fully naked. He pulled a blanket from the back of the couch and wrapped it around her shoulders, rubbing over her arms and shoulders, as if drying her off.
There was something really gentle about Trent, something caring and sweet that she wouldn’t have immediately spotted. Because the first thing one noticed was how strong he was—physically and personality-wise. He knew what to say, knew how to touch her, and did it all with supreme confidence. Trent was a practiced seducer, and he would be a skilled lover beyond what she’d already seen. No doubt about it.
But even though this was nothing but chemistry, he never made her feel like an object. Like he was driving toward his own pleasure and she was just a vehicle.
“You have to get undressed, too,” she said, sucking on her lip as she soaked him all in. He was physical perfection from head to toe. And yeah, it was a little intimidating.
His hands went to the hem of his T-shirt, and he peeled it up, revealing all the ridges of muscle she’d felt only moments ago. Then it was the belt at his waist, and the sound of metal on metal was like a thunderclap in the quiet room. Then his zipper, fabric being pushed over his hips and his socks following. He left his underwear on.
He was even more glorious when mostly naked, but it was the sparkle in his eye that she was most attracted to—the playful, spontaneous, no-holds-barred nature of him. The proof that, he