"She got a court order to prevent me going near her."
The woman was obviously a fool. A fool who didn't know what she had. "I'm sorry, Ethan." Sorry for him. Sorry for them.
He took another shuddering breath, then turned and wrapped his arms around her.
"So am I."
His breath stirred her hair, brushed warmth past her ear. His body pressed against hers, filling her with radiant longing. It felt so good. So right.
So how come it could be so wrong?
She lifted her face and met his gaze. The sorrow evident in the brown depths tore at something deep inside her. There wasn't much she could do about it, except love him in the only way he was willing to accept.
She kissed him. It was a slow and sensual exploration that left them both breathless. He brushed a thumb down her cheek and smiled his sexy smile.
"Shall we retire some place more comfortable?"
She raised an eyebrow. "You weren't comfortable here last night?"
His smile went up another notch and damn near smoked her insides. "I'm planning something a little slower than last night, and the bed is definitely more pleasant than a rug on the floor."
"I suppose if you insist — "
"I do."
He swept her off her feet and carried her over to the bed. He placed her on it gently then stepped back, his gaze rolling languidly down the length of her body. It was a heated caress that sent a shiver of expectation through every part of her. Her ni**les hardened, and the pooling heat between her legs became an ache that was almost unbearable. His gaze completed its erotic journey then met hers again, almost drowning her in longing.
"Beautiful," he murmured, lying down beside her.
From that moment on there was little room for talking. As he'd promised, their lovemaking this time was a luscious and thorough exploration. Thought became desire, desire became need, and her whole world became this man who swore he couldn't love her.
His touch pushed her into a place where only sensation existed. The air was hot and thick and almost impossible to breathe. Every inch of her quivered beneath the relentless assault of his fingers and tongue. When he finally raised himself above her, she was slick with sweat, burning with pleasure, unable to think, unable to do anything more than feel.
For several seconds he held still, his arms trembling with the effort as their gazes met. Something twisted deep inside her. Ethan might not be able to love her, but he wasn't exactly immune to her, either. There was caring in his eyes.
Slowly, deliberately, he entered her, sliding so very deep, filling her with his rigid heat. The sheer bliss of it had her moaning. He held still again, his lips claiming hers, his kiss passionate and tender.
She wrapped her legs around him and pushed him deeper still. He began to rock, gently at first, touching places that had never been touched before. She could only groan in pleasure as his body drove into hers and the sweet pressure began to build.
He kissed her neck, her shoulders, her br**sts, his movements becoming more urgent. The pressure built, curling through her body, until it became a tidal wave that would not be denied. She grabbed his shoulders, her fingers trembling, her nails digging into his flesh.
"Oh ... God." Her voice was little more than a fractured whisper. "Please..."
He answered her plea, his thrusts powerful and demanding. Her cl**ax came in a rush that stole her breath, stole all thought, and swept her into a world of sheer, unadulterated bliss. A heartbeat later he went rigid against her, the power of his release tearing her name from his throat. He held her for one last thrust, then his lips sought hers, his kiss a lingering taste of heat.
Then he rolled to one side and gathered her into his arms, holding her close as they drifted off to sleep.
It was only later she realized they hadn't used a condom.
Chapter Twelve
Kat wandered into the next cabin as Ethan took a shower. The front door was open, and the smell of rain and pine hung heavily in the air. Gwen was visible through the doorway, a steaming mug of coffee held between her knotted hands. She made herself a cup then joined her grandmother on the porch.
The sky was still heavy with the remnants of the night's storm, and the chill of winter was in the air. Days like today were best spent huddled in front of a warm fire, chocolate and a good book in hand, not out hunting the dead. Not that they had any choice — not when time was running out for those kids and maybe even themselves.
She ignored the premonition of rising danger and raised her cup to the sky. "If the color of those clouds is anything to go by, it's going to be a bitch of a day."
"At least zombies don't like the cold any more than we do. It slows them down."