Can't Help Falling in Love (The Sullivans #3) - Page 37/71

She’d often heard woman giggle about firefighters, dreaming about what they wanted to do with them. But Megan had gotten married so young she hadn’t ever really had time to build up those kinds of fantasies. And then after David had died, she hadn’t let herself think about firefighters or cops or SEALs like that.

Oh, but if she had, she thought with a small smile of pleasure that she didn’t bother to contain while Gabe still slept, she would have been dreaming of a man just like this. Big and beautiful and utterly committed to wringing every ounce of pleasure from her.

Pleasure that was only growing with every moment she stole in his arms as her hands roved gently lower.

Megan was so lost to the glory of her explorations of Gabe’s body that she was caught utterly unaware as he suddenly shifted and rolled her onto her back. She lost her breath as he came over her, one of his strong thighs between hers, his eyes clear and perfectly awake as he stared down at her.

“You were awake the whole time,” she accused when she could get her voice back.

“I am now,” he said, and then his mouth was over her br**sts and he was using his big hands to push them together so he could lave both ni**les at once.

She could feel his erection hard and throbbing against her thigh, knew he had to feel how wet, how ready, she was. She’d never woken up like this, ravished before breakfast by a man who stole away not only her breath, but every rational thought she’d ever had, completely. All that remained between them was the slow move of skin against skin, the caress of each other’s hands against sensitive flesh, the press of their mouths against whatever they could reach, whatever they could taste.

Megan wanted this final lovemaking to go on forever. She wanted to make sure that she could remember every touch, every moan of desire, every gasp of pleasure for later, when she was alone again. But everything they’d done in the dark, the slow seduction, the naughty risk of doing what he’d asked her to do, only fueled her need for more. As if they were of like mind, in unison, they shifted so that both of her thighs were around his. But then, just when she thought he was going to take her, brand her as his, he was moving them both so that he was on the bottom.

Moments later, she was sitting up on top of him, high enough out of the covers that she could see the sunlight streaming in earnest, the night before nothing but a distant memory.

She shut her eyes tight, not wanting the real world to intrude on her fantasy come to life. Just a few more minutes. That’s all she was asking for.

Fortunately, she didn’t need her eyes to be open to shift into place over Gabe’s erection, which was the only possible thing she could wrap her brain around at present.

She was almost there, could almost feel his heat coming into her so perfectly, when she heard, “Megan.”

Very reluctantly, she opened her eyes and looked down at him.

His blue eyes were intense, full of arousal, and something else she couldn’t quite figure out. Or maybe it was that she didn’t want to figure it out.

Not when she was still trying to pretend.

“Are you protected?”

Her brain couldn’t quite process his question at first, it had been so long since she’d thought about things like protection against sexually transmitted diseases.

Or pregnancy.

When the words finally pierced the haze of lust fogging up her brain, she would have shot up off his lap, but his hands were firm around her waist, keeping her right where she was.

“No.” The one word sounded overly loud in the hotel room.

What was she doing?

But before she could answer that question, Gabe was reaching over to the side table and picking up a condom she hadn’t seen him put there the night before.

She knew, now, that she should stop him from putting it on. That last night was an aberration they definitely shouldn’t repeat.

Of course, she also knew that if he opened up that condom wrapper and slid it over his erection, she wouldn’t have a prayer of stopping herself from continuing what they’d started. What she’d started.

Because she’d been unable to help herself.

And yet, the tearing of the wrapper never came. Because Gabe was holding it out for her. As if he wanted her to make the choice about making love again.

Her words from the night before came back at her, then.

Please love me.

Megan closed her eyes at her weakness, at the way she’d begged Gabe for something so much bigger than just physical pleasure. That was how dangerous being with him was. It was long past time to steel herself to do what she’d told herself she would do come morning, and get out of the bed. But her heart, her guts, felt like they were being torn in two as she tried to climb off his lap.

The hotel was almost perfectly silent in the early morning, but she swore she could hear the clinking of the prison bars, one after the other, settling into place around her heart, first, and then her body.

Boom!

Megan knew she was being crazy, that she had to be overtired from too much exercise—and sex!—and not enough sleep.

Boom!

Her heart was already trapped, but as another thick bar came down—Boom!—instead of letting them continue to fall around her, she took crazy to a whole other place...and lunged back at Gabe.

She grabbed the condom from his hand and ripped it open so fast the latex circle fell into the bed as she held the two pieces of wrapper in each of her hands.

Boom!

She dived for the condom and scrambled back up over him, her hands shaking as she lifted the condom over his shaft. But just when she thought nothing could break her panic, his hands covered hers.