at once.
She stabbed her fingers through his hair, nails dragging along his scalp. She twisted on his lap, rubbing her behind against his erection until a groan slid from his throat. The glorious friction of her body against his would only get better, he thought, if he could just get her out of these bloody clothes.
He broke the kiss and dragged in a breath of air, hoping to steady the racing beat of his heart. It didn’t help. Nothing would. Not until he’d had her, all of her. Only then would he be able to douse the fire inside. To cool the need and regain his control.
But for now, all he needed was her. Georgia Page, temptress with eyes of twilight and a mouth designed to drive a man wild.
“You’ve too many clothes on,” he muttered, dropping his hands to the buttons on her dark blue shirt.
“You, too,” she said, tugging the tail of his white, long-sleeved shirt free of the black jeans he wore. She fumbled at the buttons and then laughed at herself. “Can’t get them undone, damn it.”
“No need,” he snapped and, gripping both sides of his shirt, ripped it open, sending small white buttons flying around the room like tiny missiles.
She laughed again and slapped both palms to his chest. At the first touch of her skin to his, Sean hissed in a breath and held it. He savored every stroke, every caress, while she explored his skin as if determined to map every inch of him.
He was willing to lie still for that exploration, too, as long as he could do the same for her. He got the last of her buttons undone and slid her shirt off her shoulders and down her arms. She helped him with it, and then her skin was bared to him, all but her lovely breasts, hidden behind the pale, sky-blue lace of her bra. His mouth went dry.
Tossing her honey-blond hair back from her face, Georgia met his gaze as she unhooked the front clasp of that bra and then slipped out of it completely. Sean’s hands cupped her, his thumbs and forefingers brushing across the rigid peaks of her dark pink nipples until she sighed and cupped his hands with her own.
“You’re lovely, Georgia. More lovely than I’d imagined,” he whispered, then winked. “And my imagination was pretty damned good.”
She grinned, then whispered, “My turn.” She pushed his shirt off and skimmed her small, elegant hands slowly over his shoulders and arms, and every touch was a kiss of fire. Every caress a temptation.
He leaned over, laying her back on the sofa until she was staring up at him. Firelight played over her skin, light and shadow dancing in tandem, making her seem almost ethereal. But she was a real woman with a real need, and Sean was the man to meet it.
Deftly, he undid the waist button and the zipper of the skirt she wore, then slowly tugged the fabric down and off before tossing it to the floor. She wore a scrap of blue lace panties that were somehow even more erotic than seeing her naked would have been. Made him want to take that elastic band between his teeth and—
“Sean!” She half sat up and for a dark second or two, Sean was worried she’d changed her mind at the last. The thought of that nearly brought him to his knees.
“What is it?”
“Protection,” she said. “I’m not on the pill, and I don’t really travel with condoms.” Worrying her bottom lip with her teeth, she blurted, “Maybe Ronan’s got some old ones upstairs …”
“No need,” he said and stood. “I’ve some in the glove box of the car.”
She just looked at him. “You keep condoms in the glove compartment?”
Truthfully, he hadn’t used any of the stash he kept there for emergencies in longer than he cared to admit. There hadn’t been a woman for him in months. Maybe, he thought now, it was because he’d been too tangled up in thoughts of twilight eyes and kissable lips. Well, he didn’t much care for the sound of that, so he told himself that maybe he’d just been too bloody busy getting his airline off the ground, so to speak.
“Pays to be prepared,” was all he said.
Georgia’s lips twitched. “I didn’t realize Ireland had Boy Scouts.”
“What?”
“Never mind,” she whispered, lifting her hips and pulling her panties off. “Just … hurry.”
“I bloody well will.” He scraped one hand across his face, then turned and bolted for the front door. It cost him to leave her, even for the few moments this necessary trip would take.
He was through the front door and out to his car in a blink. He hardly felt the misting rain as it covered him in an icy, wet blanket. The night was quiet; the only light came from that of the fire within the parlor, a mere echo of light out here, battling and losing against the darkness and the rain.
He tore through the glove box, grabbed the box of condoms and slammed the door closed again. Back inside the house, he staggered to a stop on the threshold of the parlor. She’d moved from the couch, and now she lay stretched out, naked, on the rug before the fire, her head on one of the countless pillows she’d brought down there with her.
Sean’s gaze moved over her in a flash and then again, more slowly, so he could savor everything she was. Mouth dry, heartbeat hammering in his chest, he thought he’d never seen a more beautiful picture than the one she made in the firelight.
“You’re wet,” she whispered.
Sean shoved one hand through his rain-soaked hair, then shrugged off his shirt. “Hadn’t noticed.”
“Cold?” she asked, and levered herself up on one elbow to watch him.
The curve of her hip, the swell of her breasts and the heat in her eyes all came together to flash into an inferno inside him. “Cold? Not likely.”
Never taking his gaze from hers, he pulled off the rest of his clothes and simply dropped them onto the colorful rug beneath his feet. He went to her, laser-focused on the woman stretched out beside him on the carpet in the firelight.
She reached up and cupped his cheek before smiling. “I thought we’d have more room down here than on the couch.”
“Very sensible,” he muttered, kissing her palm then dipping to claim her lips in a brief, hard kiss. “Nothing more sexy than a smart woman.”
“Always nice to hear.” She grinned and moved into him, pressing her mouth to his. Opening for him, welcoming the taste of him as he devoured her. Bells clanged in his mind, warning or jubilation he didn’t care which.
All that mattered now was the next touch. The next taste. She filled him as he’d never been filled before and all Sean could think was Why had it taken them so bloody long to do this?
Then his thoughts dissolved under an onslaught of sensations that flooded his system. He tore his mouth from hers to nibble at the underside of her jaw. To drag lips and tongue along the line of her throat while she sighed with pleasure and slid her hands up and down his back.
She was soft, smooth and smelled of flowers, and every breath he took drew her deeper inside him. He lost himself in the discovery of her, sliding his palms over her curves. He took first one nipple, then the other, into his mouth, tasting, suckling, driving her sighs
