Mother, Please! - By Brenda Novak & Jill Shalvis & Alison Kent Page 0,55
with his, gliding his hands up her back to hold her close, sliding a muscled leg between hers.
Between the sounds of the night coming in his opened window, the beautiful stars lighting their way, and the feel of his body rocking to hers, she started to come undone.
He was a stranger, really. Nothing about his body was familiar to her, and yet she felt as if she’d known him all her life. Her body certainly seemed to know him, arching, writhing beneath his skillful hands and even more talented mouth as he skimmed both over her body until she was panting, whimpering, poised on the very edge and shaking with it.
A stranger.
And yet not a stranger. Not at all. “Jason—”
“I know.” He groaned when she touched him back, murmuring his encouragement, showing her with his hands over hers how to bring him pleasure.
His mouth came down, more hungrily this time, and that hunger was contagious. “Jason…now. Please now.”
He’d buried his face in her neck, his breathing ragged, but he reared up, grabbing a condom from his nightstand, pressing her into the bed, gliding his hands down her thighs to hold them open while he slid into her.
Before him, she’d been lost. This entire night, with his hands and his mouth on her, she’d held that feeling at bay, and now, with him buried inside her to the hilt, she suddenly realized she wasn’t lost at all, not in his arms. As he began to thrust into her, driving her higher and higher, taking her into a shattering climax and beyond, she discovered the truth.
In his arms, she was where she was meant to be—she was home.
It was as simple and terrifying as that.
SHE MUST HAVE DOZED because when her eyes fluttered open, full darkness had descended.
She was still in Jason’s bed.
He had her snugged in tight to his body. Her face was pressed up against his bare chest, their legs entangled. His hands were roaming free, severely hampering her ability to remain sleepy.
“Again?” she whispered thickly, tilting her face to look into his.
“Oh, yeah,” he breathed, and then they were rolling over his great big bed, until he had her back beneath him. Smiles fading, they stared into each other’s eyes. He brushed her hair out of her face, stroked a finger down her throat, over her breasts.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and tried to press closer. He held back only to take her face in his hands and study her for a long moment before dipping his head to kiss her long and deep.
It was slower this time, and even hotter for it. He touched her with his eyes, his hands, his mouth, and when he finally entered her again, he took her to the point of release and beyond, and then before she could even begin to catch her breath, started again.
Everything they did to each other in that bed—the kisses, the touches, the entwining of bodies, everything—lifted her up and away from the woman she thought she was. If he hadn’t been right alongside her, just as out of control, she wouldn’t have been able to face him afterward, wouldn’t have been able to smile and nod when he’d softly asked her to stay, wouldn’t have been able to fall asleep in his arms with a sated, dreamy smile of hope on her face.
JASON WOKE UP as he always did. Slowly. He’d dreamed last night, dreamed about his book. Love was the answer for his hero, and the way to find his way home was to follow his heart. Too bad he didn’t know how to write a romance.
Maybe he could try to figure it out in real life instead.
Follow his heart.
He reached out for the woman who’d made him feel that way, but he was the only one in the bed. He sat straight up. “Mel?”
No answer, and he craned his neck to the left to eye the floor where they’d dropped their clothes the night before. Only his. Not a good sign.
He craned his neck the other way to look into his bathroom. The door was open, the little room empty.
Leaping out of bed, he skidded to a halt in the doorway to the kitchen, but no hauntingly beautiful Melissa there, either. She’d ditched him.
Naked, out of sorts, he padded back to his bedroom and saw the note on his nightstand.
Jason,
I had to run, the clinic opens at eight. You were sleeping like…well, like a man who had a long night.