pull herself out of the hot pleasure haze to do more than cling to him so she didn’t collapse onto the floor. What he was doing to her was…well, it was insanity.
It was as if no days or years had passed between the last time they’d had their hands on each other more than a decade ago—he smelled, tasted, felt the same—and yet it was new and fresh and different—and hot as hell. Dear God, she was so hot and wet and swollen, and he was only kissing her.
“Jake,” she said again, twisting her face away so she could think.
“Vivien?” He stilled, looking down at her with an arrested expression.
“Bed” was all she could manage. “Please. Now.”
He growled agreement deep in the back of his throat and swept her into his arms. Moments later, she was tumbling onto the massive bed, Jake following.
His weight atop her was a pleasure she welcomed, a feeling she remembered: the way his leg slid just so between her thighs, pressing up against her at the warm, throbbing juncture there…the way he propped himself up on the left side, just enough to keep from crushing her, but close enough that he could capture her mouth as his right hand slid up to cover her breast, to find her nipple through the lacy bra she’d chosen, and to rub his thumb over it. He knew—remembered—just how to tease her, how she liked it, how even the gentle pinching and flicking of that tight, sensitive tip made her hot and ready and desperate for more.
She fumbled the buttons of his shirt free, suddenly needing to move her hands over his warm, taut chest, and to cover the corners of those square, muscular shoulders with her palms. She sighed because it was so familiar and yet different, and her eyes stung a little when she realized they’d lost so much time.
So much time.
He seemed to feel the same way, for all at once, impatience took over for both of them. In a few frenzied moments, they dragged away all the clothing—shirt, shorts, dress, bra, panties, briefs—and at last…at last…Jake slid his warm, smooth, hard body along hers, covering her, skin to skin, curve to muscle…and Vivien suddenly felt home.
“Oh, God, Jake.” I’ve missed you. She was sobbing a little against his warm, salty throat as he slipped his hand between them to find the hot, swollen, oh-so-slick-and-ready part of her. She cried out and arched a little, pressing up into his palm as he found the place, his fingers as deft and sure as they’d always been.
He groaned into her ear, low and husky and needy, sending more delicious shivers down to her center. She felt the thunder of his heart against her palm as he played with her, teasing and coaxing as she whimpered a little, reaching…reaching…and then she came, fast and hard, with a little rush of tears.
“Vivien?” He must’ve seen or felt the tears on her face, for he hesitated. “You okay?”
“I’ll be better once you suit up and start riding, cowboy,” she managed in a rough voice.
“As you wi—” His reply ended in a groan as she closed tight fingers around him. Delighted by the heat and heaviness in her grip, she took her time reacquainting herself with that part of him, stroking and thumbing over the hard but velvety softness until he firmly removed her hand so he could replace it with a condom.
He cradled her face with his palms, and she brushed his jaw with her fingers, and they were kissing—deep, tonguing, delving kisses—as he found his way. They exhaled matching groans of pleasure and relief as their bodies fit together…and then began to move.
The rhythm was slow and easy at first, as if they were remembering each other, memorizing the way it felt—so right, so perfect, so exquisite—until Vivien began to need more, faster and harder, and she urged him on with her body, and soon they were panting and groaning and crying out with release…and relief.
Relief.
It was the only word that sat with her as she lay there in a haze of ebbing heat and still-rippling passion, damp and warm against Jake, whose heart thudded strong beneath her cheek.
Relief, because now she was truly home.
Chapter Nineteen
“Vivien, sweetheart…” Jake said a long while later. They were curled up together in bed and he was playing with her hair, wrapping it around his finger. It was soft and silky and it smelled good—just like the rest of her—and he could hardly believe