Second Chance (17 page)

“Tamara.”

Trying to look like she was in
control of her haze-filled emotions while meeting his hot-eyed gaze wasn’t
easy, but she managed.  “Yes?”

His eyes grew hotter.  “Christ, I
want to bury myself in you right now.”

Okay, maybe she wasn’t hiding her
desire that well.  It was like a dream.  A very hedonistic, decadent dream.  A
dream where she felt desirable, emboldened by the naked carnality in Grant’s
eyes.  The desire for her he didn’t hide.

Unbidden, she swayed forward, drawn
by the raw lust in his eyes, the answering lust that twined through her to
tingle low and deep in her sex.  It pulled at her, a call of eroticism that had
her bracing her hand on his shirt.  Her hand moulded over a hard, muscled
pectoral that jumped beneath her palm.

Grant had been watching her with
rigid control, but at her touch he groaned harshly, his hands curling around
her upper arms to drag her up against him, head dropping down to kiss her with ruthless
hunger.

He ate at her mouth, tongue
demanding her lips give to him, and she surrendered.  His taste filled her, his
tongue plundering deep as he took from her.  Heart thundering, she gripped his
shirt, fisting her hands, rising up on tip toe to meet his ravenous kiss.

He shifted, turning her, his body
forcing her backwards, somehow keeping her mouth prisoner while taking her
deeper into his bedroom, deeper still until the backs of her knees hit the bed.

His mouth left hers, slid to her
cheek, down to her throat, and she angled her head, arching to allow him access
to the pulse that pounded so wildly in her throat.  She felt the firm slide of
his hands down her sides, down to the hem of her shirt, the scrape of his
fingers as he drew her shirt up, pulling back only enough to draw the shirt up
and over her head to toss aside.

She didn’t have time to feel self
conscious, not when his lips landed unerringly on her throat, tongue roughly
laving the pulse, lips closing over it as he sucked suddenly yet gently, a long
pull that had heavy strings of desire spiralling through her loins.

His hands spanned the sides of her
waist, inched down until his fingertips slid beneath the waistband of her
pants, slid further under to skim under her panties, and then he abruptly
shoved her pants down.  His palms landed on the backs of her thighs, one at a
time, and automatically she obeyed his unspoken command, lifting her feet to
allow the confining material to drop away with her ballet flats.

He took her lips again, kissing
deep, kissing hard, ruthless in his passion.

The straps of her bra slid down
her arms, the cups catching on her nipples before being tugged free to fall
away, and then Grant’s hands slid over her body, one at her back, the other at
her breast, one hand pulling her close, the other pressing against the pebbling,
aching nipple.

Before she could think about her
nakedness, he tipped her back onto the bed with a sudden small but firm push,
following her down only enough so that he leaned over her, one arm stretched out,
his hand braced on the mattress next to her shoulder.

“Do you have any idea what you
look like?” His voice was low, raw with barely-leashed desire.

Right then she felt more than desirable. 
The fact that he wanted her, the raw intensity in his eyes, made her feel
beautiful, sexy.  Powerful.

Until he started to straighten,
then the realisation that he’d see her fully brought self consciousness
crashing to the fore.  Reaching out, she snagged the light throw rug that was
lying on the side of the bed where it had been carelessly thrown.  Pushing up onto
her elbows, she started to drag it across to her with every intention of
covering her body.

One of Grant’s hands landed firmly
on the middle of her upper chest to push her back down while he grabbed the throw
rug from her hand and tossed it away.  His eyes narrowed as he looked down at
her.  “Don’t move.  Don’t hide yourself from me.”

Nervously, she licked her lips. 
“I don’t… I can’t…”

“You can.  You will.”  Giving no
quarter, he leaned down, kissed her deep, and then surprised her by feathering
light kisses along her cheeks, brushing a soft kiss on her forehead before
leaning his forehead against hers to look deeply into her eyes.  “I want you,
Tam.  I want to see you, feel you against me, feel you around me as I enter
you.  Don’t hide from me.  You’re beautiful.”

Next to this perfect specimen of
manhood?  With his muscles, his lean strength, his perfect body?  Not possible.

As if he knew her thoughts, Grant
whispered, “I’ll prove it to you, honey.”  Grabbing her hand, he pressed it to
the hard bulge at the front of his jeans.  “Feel that?  That’s how you affect
me.  Your taste, your touch, your body.  I want it all.”

His words were heady, his breath
warm on her skin as he traced his lips back to her mouth for another deep kiss
that left her trembling, the ardour growing inside her once more.

It hadn’t left, had simply been
banked by her sudden self consciousness, but he brought it back to life, flared
the fire bright once more with his words and kiss, the rapacity in his eyes.

Slowly he straightened, the weight
of his hand on her chest easing until only his fingertips remained. 
Deliberately he trailed them down between her breasts, her breath catching at
the sensation of the light calluses on her skin.

No matter his words, no matter his
desire for her clear to see, she couldn’t help but bite her lip, knot her hand
in the quilt as he rose to his full height.

Oh God, he was looking at her,
really looking at her.  All of her.  Every over-generous curve, every dip, every
hollow, every swell.  His gaze dragged slowly down from her face to her
breasts, lower to her belly, lower to the curls between her thighs, lower still
to her rounded thighs, her calves and her feet. 

Heat filled her, a mixture of
reaction to his hot eyes and her own fears, fears she’d thought she’d long
dealt with.  Only she hadn’t dealt with them, mainly because she hadn’t felt
comfortable enough to let any man see her naked.  Hadn’t had a man masterful
enough to make her do as he wanted.  Hadn’t cared enough about a man, felt desirable
enough around a man to even contemplate it.

Until Grant.

Heat thumping, she bent one knee,
drawing her foot back to partially hide her nakedness from him.

Grant’s gaze slid back up her body
to lock on her face.  “Don’t.”

“I...”  She cleared her throat,
hearing her voice husky with desire, trembling with trepidation.  “I’m sorry,
I’m…I’ve not done this.  You’re so…you know.  I’m just-”

“Look at me.”

She swallowed.  Like she could do
anything else as he slid the last button free on his shirt and peeled it back, revealing
all that leanly muscled perfection.

His eyes never shifted from her
face as he spoke, his voice low, deep, soothing yet strangely erotic with an
underlying rasp of cupiscence.  “Stop thinking with your doubts and start
seeing with my eyes.”  Dropping the shirt on the floor, he unsnapped his jeans,
drew the zip down.  “You’re what I want, every bit of you, every sweet curve,
every hidden dip and the treasures beyond.  You see yourself as less than
perfect.”  Thumbs in the waistband of his jeans, he slowly drew the heavy
material down his thighs.  “No one is perfect.  No one.”  He paused, partially
bent, gaze sweeping back down her figure and up, the light in his eyes flaring
brighter.  “Your body is the sweetest, hottest one I’ve ever seen or had the
desire to fill.”

God, the man had a way with
words.  It tightened something inside of her, wound up her libido to shivering
awareness while filling her with warmth that trickled through every cell and
beyond.

As she watched with breath held,
Grant pushed his jeans off each foot along with his work boots and socks.  Then
he straightened, the full front-on nudity taking her breath clean away.

She’d known he had a great body,
had seen it in parts, but God above, this just proved it.  Broad shoulders,
muscled chest tapering down to an impressive six pack and lean waist, lean
hips, muscled thighs.  And between those thighs his shaft, heavy, curving
upward, aroused.

Mouth dry, Tam looked up at
Grant’s face, swallowing as he fisted his shaft and pumped several times,
unashamedly open in his desire for her.

“Yeah, honey.”  His voice was as
thick as his shaft.  “This is what you do to me.  Your body, your curves. 
You.  Everything you are.  I crave it all.”  A step toward the bed, another
pump of the thick shaft in his fist.  “I’m having it all.”  One knee on the bed
beside her hip, his skin so hot against hers.  “I’m taking it all.”  One arm
over her to brace his hand on the mattress on the other side of her shoulders,
leaning over her, face hovering above hers, his eyes burning with such carnal
heat.

Thinking he was going to say
something else, she was caught unawares when instead he kissed her, licking
deep, the mattress dipping as he swung over her, strong thighs pushing against
hers in a silent demand to part.

Instinctively she obeyed, a shiver
washing through her at the sensation of his strong, tall body above her.  His
shaft was a hot, thick brand against her belly, his legs so muscular against
her inner thighs and calves, his hips settling in the cradle of hers, his
ribbed stomach hard on her soft belly, the solid swells of his pecs pressing
against her breasts.

The knowledge that his naked body
was above her, on her, against her, was erotic on its own, making her libido
jerk, her nerves tighten, a little spiral of pure need pluck at her secrets in delicious
anticipation.

Rather than seek her opening,
Grant shifted, sliding slowly down her body, mouth pressing hot, wet kisses to
her throat, her shoulders, the dip of her collarbone, further down to the
valley between her breasts, tongue swirling indolently across her skin as he
moved slowly, so agonisingly slowly, to her breast.  A light flick of his
tongue around the areole, playing the sensitive flesh, making her squirm
beneath him.

His laugh was low, sin itself in
his eyes as he looked up at her, his lips a scant inch from her nipple, his
every breath making it pucker until it was almost painful.

With a wicked grin he tongued the
tip, sending splintering heat through her, little sparks that danced under her
skin in a straight line from her nipple to deep within her.

Tam’s breath caught, hitched, as
he slowly opened his mouth, his gaze never leaving hers as he lowered his head to
capture the straining nub, lips closing over her nipple, tongue lashing around
it to cup and hold.  Then he started sucking.  Slowly.  Relentlessly.

Every suck had pure heat flooding
her, a tide that pushed through her, swallowed in deep, hotly flowing through
her to flood her womanhood.

Helplessly she arched up, seeking
more, her fingers curling into the quilt each side of her.  Head flung back,
she could only lose herself in every suck, every long pull at her breast, every
relentless draw.  By the time he moved to her other breast, she was squirming
beneath him.

When those expert lips closed
around her other nipple, that wet tongue curled around to cup it, and that now
familiar long, relentless suck recommenced, Tam moaned.  Restlessly her hips
rolled, but Grant shifted his hold, hands clamping down on her hips, pinning
her in place as he continued the erotic assault on her nipple.

Helplessly she bent her knees,
felt his hips nestle in closer, his growl of satisfaction reverberating against
her highly sensitized flesh.

When he released her nipple she
bit her lip, looking down at him, seeing the burning in his eyes.

“Grant…”  She couldn’t finish, her
heart stuttering as he grinned.

God, he was wicked temptation,
sin, everything decadent rolled into one as he slid further down her body, the
width of his chest and shoulders forcing her thighs wider.

She’d wondered what Grant would
look like wicked.  Now she knew.

The pale grey of his eyes was
back-lit with a stormy, hedonistic light.  No sign now of an easy-going man. 
This man was pure sin.

It was sin in his eyes as he
looked at her over the curls on her mound, sin in his grin as he slid down
further, sin in his dark laugh as she trembled, instinctively trying to close
her thighs but unable to with his body pinning them open, sin in his grip as
his palms cupped her hips and his long fingers curled into the soft flesh.

Sin in his mouth as he dipped his
head and licked the length of her without first a tentative introduction.

Tam nearly shattered at the scrape
of his tongue along the innocent flesh of her perineum.  Another swipe of his tongue,
firm and flat, pressing the sensitive, delicate tissue aside to give him access
to her secrets.

Wild heat scoured through her, her
heart pumped frantically, sparks of fire burned low in her loins, fired through
her womanhood, spread out in the pelvis as Grant’s talented mouth found her clitoris,
lips closed over it and that slow, relentless pull commenced on the most tender
part of her feminism.

“Oh God!  Grant!”  Wildly she tried
to twist away, wanting more, wanting him to leave her alone, wanting relief,
wanting sanctuary from that torturous pull of wet heat that surrounded her
clitoris.

With a sudden, powerful jerk of
his hands and arms, Grant yanked her down fully against his mouth, opening his
lips to press against her womanhood, tongue finding the weeping opening of her
body, breath hissing hotly against her, sending her nerves fluttering wildly,
cream spilling from her, and then - oh God, then his mouth sealed over her
opening and he sucked strongly, insistently.

One hand left her hip, palm
cupping her mound, a long finger sliding down between the spread lips to find
her clitoris and press, rubbing, massaging.