Australian Quinns. Kate Hoffmann

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Australian Quinns - Kate Hoffmann Mills & Boon By Request

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with a slow smile. “That’s the way it works. At least where I come from.” She rose on her knees, then slowly lowered herself again.

      “Oh, God, this is not going to last long if you can’t follow directions.”

      Payton leaned forward and kissed him softly. “What is it they say? Just lie back and think of queen and country?”

      Brody grabbed her hips and held her still. “Australia is a constitutional democracy,” he said.

      “I don’t care,” Payton replied as she rocked forward, ignoring his plea. “We can discuss politics later.”

      What began slowly and purposefully soon dissolved into a frantic need to satisfy. Brody wasn’t as close as he claimed and drove into her again and again, their bodies straining.

      Payton felt the beginnings of her release grow inside her, the urge to surrender more intense than she’d ever experienced in the past. She closed her eyes and focused on the feel of him, the wonderful sensations that their coupling created in her body.

      His hand touched her face and he drew her down again until their lips and tongues met. It was the kiss that sent her spiraling over the edge. The orgasm came as a complete surprise at first and then Payton was forced to let go, to surrender to the powerful shudders and spasms. She collapsed on top of him, and a moment later Brody found his own release, driving deep inside her, his body tense and then trembling.

      They lay together for a long time, gasping for breath, neither one of them speaking. Payton wasn’t sure what to say. Thanks were probably in order, considering she’d never experienced an orgasm so powerful. But then, this was only their first attempt. What would subsequent seductions bring?

      “That’s never happened before.”

      He gently pushed against her shoulders until their eyes could meet. “You’re kidding, right?”

      She felt a warm blush creep up her cheeks. If she was liberated enough to make love to a man she barely knew, then she should be able to express her desires. “I mean, it’s happened, but not in that way.”

      He stared at her, a perplexed expression on his face. “Well, that’s good, then.”

      “Yes,” she said, smiling. “Maybe we could do it again?”

      Brody chuckled. “I think we might have to wait just a bit.”

      “A bit? What is that in Australian? Because in American that means a minute at the most.” She reached down and ran her fingers along his still-rigid shaft, pulling the condom off along the way.

      Brody groaned as he clenched his teeth. “A minute. Maybe two.” His breath caught in his throat. “Maybe less, if you’re very gentle.”

      BRODY WASN’T SURE of the time. It was late. After midnight. He and Payton had chosen conversation over sex and she was curled up against him, her leg thrown over his hips and her cheek resting on his outstretched arm.

      The batteries on the first torch had faded, but Brody had run out and gotten another. For now, they relaxed in complete darkness. Though he loved to look at her, he was just as content to communicate through touch. Her body was made for his hands, her skin so soft and her curves like a landscape to explore.

      “We’d probably be more comfortable in my bed,” he said, smoothing his hand over her tangled hair.

      “We can’t,” she said.

      “Why? There’s nothing wrong with what we’re doing.”

      “I know. I’m not ashamed. It’s just…”

      “What?”

      “I’m an employee here and I should probably try to behave myself.” She pushed up and grabbed the torch, then shined it on his face. “Besides, this is much more exciting, don’t you think?”

      “Exciting, maybe.” Brody chuckled, holding up his hand. “But not nearly as comfortable.” He rolled to his side and pulled a piece of straw from the blanket beneath him.

      She sat up beside him and brushed her hair over her shoulder. With a lazy caress, she smoothed her hand over his belly. “When I saw you in the cell next to me, I thought about what you’d look like without your clothes.”

      Brody gasped, a laugh slipping from his lips. “Really?”

      She nodded. “You look different than what I imagined.”

      “Different bad or different good?”

      “Good,” she said. Her fingers drifted lower, running along the length of his thigh. He watched, surprised at how such an innocent action could so easily stir his desire. He loved the feel of her hands on his body. As far as he was concerned, she could take whatever she wanted from him. He was willing and quite able to satisfy whatever need might arise.

      Her fingers paused when she reached his knee and Brody sucked in a sharp breath. He knew it was ugly. The scars were still sharply defined, to the eye and to the touch. “What happened?” she asked.

      He didn’t want to tell the story again, especially not to her. It had been a foolish mistake that had changed the entire course of his life. But then, that course had led to her, hadn’t it?

      “I tore up my knee in a motorcycle accident,” he said. “It’s not nearly as bad as it looks. It happened a long time ago. I barely even think about it anymore.” At least that was the truth, he mused.

      She bent over him, her hair tickling his thigh, then pressed her lips to the scar. “There. All better.”

      Brody chuckled softly. “Yes. That does make things feel much better.”

      She pushed up on her hands and knees and crawled on top of him. In the soft light from the torch, Payton looked like some ancient goddess, her perfect skin gleaming like marble. He could imagine how a woman like her could drive men into battle for her favors. He was already lost and he’d only known her a few days.

      “Any other interesting scars?”

      “What exactly are you looking for? Defects?”

      She picked up the torch again and shined the light on the tattoo on his right biceps. “What is this?” She rubbed her fingers over the inked skin.

      “Nothing, really. Just something tribal.”

      “I have a tattoo,” she said.

      Brody pushed up on his elbow, stunned by the admission. “Where?”

      She pointed to her ankle and he took the torch from her and held it there. “I don’t see anything.”

      “There. It’s that red dot right there.”

      “That’s not a tattoo, that’s a freckle.”

      “No, it was supposed to be a tattoo. But I chickened out after just a few seconds.”

      “Because it hurt?”

      “No. Because I was afraid of what

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