Chasing Marisol (Blueprint to Love Book 3) (13 page)

Because of Hector, Jeff had known this time would be different. He'd accepted the change and respected Mari more because of her refusal to yield. Despite her no nonsense approach— despite how guarded she was, he'd willingly stayed in the game. Hell— he'd been eager for more. He hadn’t begun to scratch the surface on who Marisol really was.

***

"I thought we could have dinner outside tonight." Mari's heart was thumping a pleasantly erratic beat as she led him through the kitchen and out onto the deck. A waft of jasmine hit her nose and she inhaled the intoxicating scent. It was just breezy enough tonight to have dinner outside without risk of mosquitoes.

"Wow. This is amazing." Jeff admired the view before stepping off the deck to wander through the small backyard. "You've really transformed the yard. It's so private."

"I imagined turning it into a secret garden," she admitted. "I knew it wasn't large enough for Hector to really play, so I went for peaceful and secluded instead." Admiring the pretty table she'd set for two, Mari enjoyed the idea that tonight would be for her and Jeff. The thought of Hector caused a quick pang of missing him, but she set it aside as she remembered his excited face as he'd leaped from her car earlier this evening. He would have as much fun at his sleepover as she would hopefully be having with Jeff.

"Did you do all this work yourself?" Retracing his steps, Jeff joined her on the deck.

She offered him a beer before pouring herself a glass of sparkling wine from the cooler. "I did. I had no idea how much work I was undertaking. My brother Manny did some of the digging for me, but if I'd known how hard it was going to be— I might’ve had second thoughts."

Jeff smiled over her confession. "But your end result is incredible." He leaned over the side for another look. "Most of this stuff will take care of itself except for watering. You planned really well."

"Thanks. I'm still glad the work is done." Joining him at the railing, Mari's pulse skittered when he slung his arm around her, drawing her closer. She loved the lean, tough feel of his body next to hers, loved the quiet strength he exuded without trying. The clean, heady scent of skin and aftershave surrounded her. Despite her jangled nerves over the evening ahead, everything about being with Jeff was easy. There were no moods, no games.

"Are we grilling tonight— because I think you should know I'm pretty awesome."

She nodded, mesmerized by the expression in his eyes. "I— I have shrimp and vegetable kabobs marinating. Whenever you want to fire it up— I will defer to your expertise."

"I'm already fired up. I've been thinking about you all day," he added, his voice dropping to a whisper as he skimmed a kiss along her jaw. "And I was awake half the night imagining what tonight would be like."

Her heart lurched into her throat as his mouth travelled there, too, pulling gently, caressing her skin. "I— me too," she admitted. Dios, if he kept that up, she would take him right there on the deck. Her pulse in overdrive, she knew her face was stained pink when she risked a glance into his amazing eyes. Tongue-tied, she blurted out the thought she'd been wondering all day. "Is this s-something else you feel we should get out of the way first?"  

Beautiful green eyes heated before his mouth curved in a slow, sure grin. "I think we should take our time tonight. I've wanted you from the day we met. Tonight— I'm going to torture you with just a fraction of what I've been feeling for the past seven weeks, six days and-" Jeff glanced at his watch. "Ten hours."

She startled over the admission. Suddenly, Marisol felt more relaxed— more certain of herself than she'd felt in weeks. This night with Jeff would be memorable. And more than that— it would be fun. For once, she was going to loosen up and enjoy herself and not care where it led. "In that case, I hope you don't mind a little spice."

His breathing quickened, making her smile. "The marinade— it's a Cuban recipe from my dad. The heat builds slowly, but if you're not careful . . . you can go up in flames."

"Mari-" When his gaze locked with hers, she couldn't look away. His beautiful eyes promised the world.

"When the spice overwhelms you, I have just the right treat to cool you down— your palate, I mean. When things get fiery . . . we have an icy sorbet and a sweet fruit salad to slow the heat before we let it build again." Marisol resisted the urge to smile as she saw the effect her words had on him.

He pulled her against him and she felt the hard length of him against her stomach. The way he held her, the way he held
himself
indicated a taut control that would hopefully end tonight. Mari shivered in anticipation. Lowering his head, Jeff's mouth was a mere whisper from hers.

"I'm supposed to be torturing
you
— not the other way around," he rasped before he nibbled at the corner of her mouth. His lips, warm and insistent against hers, moved methodically against hers, never staying in one place. The grazing bites made her heart pitch crazily in her chest. When he traced her lower lip with his tongue, her knees buckled.

"It's w-working." Her breath hitched in her throat as she tugged his head down to hers. It was almost a relief from the exquisite torture when he finally kissed her full on, his tongue thrusting inside seeking hers. She clung to him, grateful for the support of the rough wooden deck rails against her back.

When they broke free several moments later, they were both breathing heavily. When Jeff's head dipped to the hollow of her throat, she shuddered, nearly dizzy with wanting him. His fingers were shaking when he undid the top button on her blouse. When his mouth covered the skin above her lacy bra, she tipped her head back, allowing him better access. A murmur of pleasure caught in her throat. Who was this woman she'd become? No one had ever made her feel this crazy— out of control— alive.

"Jefferson— please," she whispered. The plea ended on a gasp as his mouth latched onto the satin covering her breast. His tongue flicked over her sensitized breast and it was all she could do to prevent herself from screaming. No one had ever touched her this way. No one had ever made her lose control the way she was about to with him.

Buen Dios— if she let this continue, she would take him right here on the deck. And not give a damn if anyone heard them. With the little strength she had remaining, Mari shoved him away, regaining much needed distance. For a moment, his eyes registered shock— as though he truly believed she wanted to stop. In a tiny recess in her brain, she noted how he immediately backed away. Without anger. Another difference from what she had been used to.

"You make me feel dangerous," she admitted, her voice trembling. Not wanting the misunderstanding to lengthen, she smiled. "It's a little scary."

"Now you know how I've felt since we met." His hoarse voice scraped over her like sandpaper, leaving her tingling.

She extended her hand, wanting desperately to feel the warmth of his again. When his fingers tightened around hers, she continued. "I don't want our first time to be on this deck but if you do that again I can't be held responsible for my actions."

Jeff's eyes widened before he recovered enough to smile, though it was definitely not his usual self-assured grin. "On a deck at twilight? That would be a first for me."

She smiled— and damn it— began blushing. Would she ever learn to control it? "Maybe once it's really dark we could try something like that-"

"With you, I'm game for anything," he admitted. "But if you want to slow things down, then we slow down."

"If we take this inside right now— we might just make it upstairs to my bedroom." Marisol dragged in a much needed breath of oxygen, not caring that she probably sounded completely desperate. "But I don't hold out much hope of making it that far."

Jeff gathered her into his arms and carried her the few steps to the French doors. He set her down only briefly— to make sure the doors were locked. His gaze still locked on hers, she heard his breath hitch as she slowly undid the remaining buttons on her blouse. She watched it flutter to the floor. When she unclasped the front hook of her bra, her nerve endings were on sensory overload with the need to be touched.

On a groan, he released the breath he'd been holding. "Mari— you are so beautiful. You're perfect."

Taking a step back through the kitchen, she smiled. "I think you should know if you don't touch me soon, I'm going to scream."

He caught up to her in one step, pulling her back against him before dropping a kiss on her shoulder. His mouth was warm and insistent, sending shivers of exquisite sensation down her spine. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her, capturing her breasts in his hands. As he began to stroke them, she moaned, the ragged, needy sound breaking the silence in the room. "Like this?"

Her head rested back against his shoulder. Standing there with him felt so right. Absorbing some of the powerful strength he exuded. His warm, wet tongue nuzzled the sensitized spot on her nape, his erection pressed hard against her back as he fondled her. She sagged against him. "Dios, Jefferson. Forget the bed. This hallway will work just fine."

Slowly turning her around to face him, he smiled that sexy, arrogant smile she'd grown to love. "Do you know what I like most about you?"

Intent on unbuttoning his shirt, she shook her head. "My wanton lack of control?" Mari sighed as she finally slid her hands inside his shirt, her fingers colliding with warm skin. His ropey muscles contracted under her touch. "Let's get this off."

Jeff groaned as she pressed herself against him. The skin on skin contact was almost too much to bear. She went to work on his belt, only pausing when he tipped her chin up so she was forced to stop what she was doing and look at him. "Why aren't you helping me? Is this what you mean by torture?"

He laughed as he bent to kiss her. "The thing I like
most
about you," he reminded, "is this incredible blush." When he caressed her cheeks with calloused thumbs, she shivered as sensation swept through her.

Despite the whirlwind of heat swirling around them, despite her need for more— more kisses, more touching, more everything— Mari frowned. "I'm standing here half naked, begging you to make love to me . . . and the thing you like is my blush?"

He nodded, his gaze never leaving her face. "All those weeks when I didn't know where I stood with you— I concentrated on what you were thinking, instead of what you said." Jeff brushed her cheeks again. "This always gave you away— and gave me hope."

If possible, her face heated even more. "So— I have no secrets from you?"

"I wouldn't go that far." He kissed the scowl from between her eyes. "But at least I knew to keep trying."

She pulled his head down for a long, wet, slightly frantic kiss. Her body was on auto-pilot now— and it was begging for relief from the slow, sweet torture Jefferson was putting her through. She felt him tighten as her nails scratched lightly over his sinewy biceps and she slid his shirt from his shoulders.

"Mari, love— we still have the stairs to get up."

"Later." She rained kisses on his face before she buried hers into his chest. "You smell so good. I promise we can go slow later." 

Jeff staggered back a step, seeming dazed for a moment before twin flames ignited in his eyes and he accepted the challenge she'd thrown down. He made quick work of her shorts, taking a horrifically long time to tease them down her hips. His hands slid across overheated skin, dipping into her panties to torture her before retreating to tease her again. He actually grinned when her legs sagged against him.

"So beautiful. So sweet," he whispered, his voice growing more edgy with need as he touched her. His fingers danced between her legs yet again. "So wet for me."

"Please." She was panting now, needing Jeff Traynor more than any other thing on the planet. Needing him— all of him thrusting inside of her or she would not live another moment. If she'd been capable of thinking rationally, she would have wondered what had become of Marisol Ortega— the woman she had been before Jeff. Because that woman had never, ever before begged for sex. She'd had it, she'd enjoyed it, she'd even initiated it. But she'd never
needed
it— as though struggling for her next breath. That Marisol would have believed the desperate woman in this hallway was seriously loco.

***

"Easy, sweet." Jeff held her up as he unbuttoned his jeans, grateful he was able to kick them free as quickly as she demanded. He smiled over her husky plea to hurry, and again as she helped him tear open the condom. But his knees buckled when she took him in her hands to finish the job for him.

If it hadn't been so painful, Jeff wished he could freeze this moment and just spend it staring at her. Feasting on her. The gorgeous, sexy, amazing woman in his arms was close to coming undone and he hadn't really touched her yet. But he was damn sure going to be touching her all night. She’d been right about the first time— about not making it upstairs. He would explode if he didn't get inside her this very moment. "Mari, love— are you sure?"

"Maldita sea! I’ve been sure for days."

"I'll take that as a 'yes'." Grinning, he propped her against the wall near the stairs. She was kissing him with reckless abandon. He sunk in even deeper, satisfied when her groan of need matched his own. When he sucked on her tongue, her whimper of pleasure was a visceral hit straight to his gut. Her beautiful, perfect breasts swelled in his hands, the tight nub sensitized beyond reason to his touch. He wanted more. More everything. More Mari.