Tony had ever experienced. He wanted her so fucking much, and every time he touched her, she responded just as fiercely.
At the first flutter of her climax he lost it, thrusting hard and fast, not stopping until they were both utterly drained. He came so hard his arms buckled, and he collapsed against Lauren’s back, burying his nose in the mass of soft red curls spread against the seat.
The afterglow was short-lived. Lauren shifted pointedly underneath him, reminding him that he was probably mashing her into the seat in an unnaturally arched position.
Reluctantly he pushed himself up and slid out, undeniably shaken. What had started as a way of reminding her how much she wanted him, instead proved to him that, out of all the women he had ever known, only she incited the kind of craving that made him come so hard he nearly passed out.
He slid over to his side of the seat and cleaned himself up as best he could while she did the same. He felt like he should say something, but feared if he opened his mouth something ridiculously sappy—and completely unlike him—might slip out. So instead he leaned over and kissed her, tracing his thumb along the strong curve of her jaw and the clean line of her cheekbone. Then he held her close, the thought that this might be the last time he held her twisting in his guts.
He buried his face in her hair, wondering if there was anything he could do to change her mind, and prove to her that he was exactly the kind of man she needed.
7
L auren did her best to keep their conversation light, meaningless, and utterly without depth for the rest of the ride back to Donner Lake.
Not easy when her brain practically screamed at her to hash out this thing between them, once and for all. What exactly had happened, anyway? Had he simply wanted to get laid, or was there even a teeny, tiny chance that he might actually consider a relationship with her?
Only the fact that, deep in her bones, she knew the answer to that question kept her from bringing it up.
Tony was Tony, and many of the things she loved about him—his charm, his laid-back attitude, his easy laugh and often immature sense of humor—were the very things that kept him from even entertaining the idea of settling down with one woman.
But dammit, she hated being in this gray area. For most of her adult life, her relationships with guys had remained firmly in the friends arena. No bleeding over into romantic territory for her—she was usually smart enough keep everything strictly platonic.
But not this time. And really, when she thought about it, there was no middle ground here, either. She had only one choice, and that was to stick with her original plan and, after they got home tonight, pretend none of this had happened.
They’d simply slip back into their regular routine, having a few beers, watching the game, working out.
Your usual guy stuff, she thought ruefully.
And she had no doubt that, within a couple of days—by Wednesday, at the latest, she’d be able to move without feeling twinges and pulls deep inside her.
But as she listened to the low rumble of his voice, saw the flash of his smile as he laughed at something she said, she wondered how long it would take before she could look at him without getting this awful crushing sensation in her throat and chest.
It was late by the time they crested Donner Summit, but she could see the lake below, shimmering silver, illuminated by the nearly full moon.
She’d loved this view from the first moment she’d seen it as a little girl, driving with her parents on their annual ski vacation. Now that she lived here, the view never failed to pervade her with a sense of peace, a gut-deep conviction that she had come home.
But not tonight. Tonight she took in the granite cliffs and dark water as they drove by on Highway 80, and she feared at any second she would burst into tears. The weekend was really over now. She would go back to being Tony’s friend, and he would go back
At the first flutter of her climax he lost it, thrusting hard and fast, not stopping until they were both utterly drained. He came so hard his arms buckled, and he collapsed against Lauren’s back, burying his nose in the mass of soft red curls spread against the seat.
The afterglow was short-lived. Lauren shifted pointedly underneath him, reminding him that he was probably mashing her into the seat in an unnaturally arched position.
Reluctantly he pushed himself up and slid out, undeniably shaken. What had started as a way of reminding her how much she wanted him, instead proved to him that, out of all the women he had ever known, only she incited the kind of craving that made him come so hard he nearly passed out.
He slid over to his side of the seat and cleaned himself up as best he could while she did the same. He felt like he should say something, but feared if he opened his mouth something ridiculously sappy—and completely unlike him—might slip out. So instead he leaned over and kissed her, tracing his thumb along the strong curve of her jaw and the clean line of her cheekbone. Then he held her close, the thought that this might be the last time he held her twisting in his guts.
He buried his face in her hair, wondering if there was anything he could do to change her mind, and prove to her that he was exactly the kind of man she needed.
7
L auren did her best to keep their conversation light, meaningless, and utterly without depth for the rest of the ride back to Donner Lake.
Not easy when her brain practically screamed at her to hash out this thing between them, once and for all. What exactly had happened, anyway? Had he simply wanted to get laid, or was there even a teeny, tiny chance that he might actually consider a relationship with her?
Only the fact that, deep in her bones, she knew the answer to that question kept her from bringing it up.
Tony was Tony, and many of the things she loved about him—his charm, his laid-back attitude, his easy laugh and often immature sense of humor—were the very things that kept him from even entertaining the idea of settling down with one woman.
But dammit, she hated being in this gray area. For most of her adult life, her relationships with guys had remained firmly in the friends arena. No bleeding over into romantic territory for her—she was usually smart enough keep everything strictly platonic.
But not this time. And really, when she thought about it, there was no middle ground here, either. She had only one choice, and that was to stick with her original plan and, after they got home tonight, pretend none of this had happened.
They’d simply slip back into their regular routine, having a few beers, watching the game, working out.
Your usual guy stuff, she thought ruefully.
And she had no doubt that, within a couple of days—by Wednesday, at the latest, she’d be able to move without feeling twinges and pulls deep inside her.
But as she listened to the low rumble of his voice, saw the flash of his smile as he laughed at something she said, she wondered how long it would take before she could look at him without getting this awful crushing sensation in her throat and chest.
It was late by the time they crested Donner Summit, but she could see the lake below, shimmering silver, illuminated by the nearly full moon.
She’d loved this view from the first moment she’d seen it as a little girl, driving with her parents on their annual ski vacation. Now that she lived here, the view never failed to pervade her with a sense of peace, a gut-deep conviction that she had come home.
But not tonight. Tonight she took in the granite cliffs and dark water as they drove by on Highway 80, and she feared at any second she would burst into tears. The weekend was really over now. She would go back to being Tony’s friend, and he would go back
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