thinking about since I came out here. Or did you really think I was learning your unusual anatomy for intellectual purposes? I wanted to know if you were built for...for that sort of thing.”
“Really?” Humbled by her bravery and seduced beyond all reason by her adventurous spirit, Zeke was on his feet and backing her into the house with a breathless grin. “Why don’t we find out?”
* * *
The bedroom Zeke had given Kendall the night before was a circular crow’s-nest loft that had a three hundred and sixty-degree view of the Pacific Ocean and the mainland nearly thirty miles away. The custom-built bed was also round, a platform-style thing that had been popular in the seventies, and big enough for a winged man. When she had curled up in the center of it the night before, the sheer size of it had only underscored how alone she was. The desolate yearning to have the strength of protective arms around her had been an agony to bear, and the need for a warm, powerful body fusing to hers had nearly driven her out of her mind.
But she’d been alone. The moment she had murmured his name, he’d all but slammed her into this bedroom before vanishing. He couldn’t have made it any plainer he wanted nothing to do with her, and at the time she’d tried hard to feel the same way. She’d tried to be upset he’d made a fool of her with his mask and assertions she was a wigged-out PTSD victim. She’d struggled to drum up anger over how her heart had been pulled in what she’d thought was two different directions, when in fact she’d had feelings for only one man. In the end, though, these attempts were so feeble they couldn’t stand on their own. She wanted Zeke there with her, and not just because he’d left her alone on an inaccessible island with a thousand cans of Spam. She wanted to hold him until he stopped looking at her like he believed he deserved a kick in the gut for being born different.
Okay. Very different. But there was nothing wrong with that. It was past time he stopped hating himself for it.
His mouth was better than any dream, capturing hers again and again as he guided her backward to the bed, each kiss a new and glorious seduction. She loved the way his lips molded to hers, as if he knew exactly how to melt against her, and she was thrilled she’d made the first move. It had taken most of her courage to approach him on the balcony; if he had rejected her again, she wasn’t sure she would have been able to recover from it. Her feelings for Zeke weren’t casual, or superficial. How could they be, when the mere thought of a rejection from him darkened her world?
With that realization came another. She wasn’t going to rest until Zeke was as enthralled as she was. Whether she had to use fair means or foul, she’d do all she could to make sure she was his last thought at night and his first thought in the morning. She wouldn’t stop until he was restless and incomplete without her by his side, until he couldn’t sleep unless he had her for his pillow, and his blanket, and his safe harbor.
Until he loved her.
The backs of her knees bumped against the mattress’s edge and she hooked her fingers on the loops of the black jeans he wore before she lost her balance. This tugged his hips against her belly, and her heart executed an Olympic-style back flip at the impressive thrust of his manhood. A throaty groan escaped him at the contact, and her head swam with a dizzying flash of feminine triumph mixed with the ravening need to feel all of him with all of her.
“You’ve definitely proven one thing,” she whispered against his mouth, trying not to swoon when he bit at her lower lip and suckled it. “You sure know how to kiss.”
“I’m just getting started.” Palming the back of her head, he guided her to sit on the edge of the bed while his tongue danced with hers. He caught his breath, a convulsive hitch that she tasted, when she popped the button of his jeans. The rasp of the zipper
“Really?” Humbled by her bravery and seduced beyond all reason by her adventurous spirit, Zeke was on his feet and backing her into the house with a breathless grin. “Why don’t we find out?”
* * *
The bedroom Zeke had given Kendall the night before was a circular crow’s-nest loft that had a three hundred and sixty-degree view of the Pacific Ocean and the mainland nearly thirty miles away. The custom-built bed was also round, a platform-style thing that had been popular in the seventies, and big enough for a winged man. When she had curled up in the center of it the night before, the sheer size of it had only underscored how alone she was. The desolate yearning to have the strength of protective arms around her had been an agony to bear, and the need for a warm, powerful body fusing to hers had nearly driven her out of her mind.
But she’d been alone. The moment she had murmured his name, he’d all but slammed her into this bedroom before vanishing. He couldn’t have made it any plainer he wanted nothing to do with her, and at the time she’d tried hard to feel the same way. She’d tried to be upset he’d made a fool of her with his mask and assertions she was a wigged-out PTSD victim. She’d struggled to drum up anger over how her heart had been pulled in what she’d thought was two different directions, when in fact she’d had feelings for only one man. In the end, though, these attempts were so feeble they couldn’t stand on their own. She wanted Zeke there with her, and not just because he’d left her alone on an inaccessible island with a thousand cans of Spam. She wanted to hold him until he stopped looking at her like he believed he deserved a kick in the gut for being born different.
Okay. Very different. But there was nothing wrong with that. It was past time he stopped hating himself for it.
His mouth was better than any dream, capturing hers again and again as he guided her backward to the bed, each kiss a new and glorious seduction. She loved the way his lips molded to hers, as if he knew exactly how to melt against her, and she was thrilled she’d made the first move. It had taken most of her courage to approach him on the balcony; if he had rejected her again, she wasn’t sure she would have been able to recover from it. Her feelings for Zeke weren’t casual, or superficial. How could they be, when the mere thought of a rejection from him darkened her world?
With that realization came another. She wasn’t going to rest until Zeke was as enthralled as she was. Whether she had to use fair means or foul, she’d do all she could to make sure she was his last thought at night and his first thought in the morning. She wouldn’t stop until he was restless and incomplete without her by his side, until he couldn’t sleep unless he had her for his pillow, and his blanket, and his safe harbor.
Until he loved her.
The backs of her knees bumped against the mattress’s edge and she hooked her fingers on the loops of the black jeans he wore before she lost her balance. This tugged his hips against her belly, and her heart executed an Olympic-style back flip at the impressive thrust of his manhood. A throaty groan escaped him at the contact, and her head swam with a dizzying flash of feminine triumph mixed with the ravening need to feel all of him with all of her.
“You’ve definitely proven one thing,” she whispered against his mouth, trying not to swoon when he bit at her lower lip and suckled it. “You sure know how to kiss.”
“I’m just getting started.” Palming the back of her head, he guided her to sit on the edge of the bed while his tongue danced with hers. He caught his breath, a convulsive hitch that she tasted, when she popped the button of his jeans. The rasp of the zipper
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