She grabbed his shoulders for support. Her legs went wobbly. “We had to swim in the Shebelle River to get clean enough to put our clothes back on. I was certain we would get discovered by someone—or stampeded by a herd of goats.”
“The rhinos ignored us, and the place was every bit as secluded as I promised.” He pitched her pants to the side. “We had fun together.”
“We did.” She cupped his face, her heart squeezing tight in her chest, which made it even tougher to recapture the beautiful flow of energy between them when even their breaths were one. “If I had it all to do over again, I would still want to know you, to be with you, even though I understand why it had to end.”
Standing, he hooked his arms under her bottom and lifted her against him. “Don’t talk about endings, not tonight.”
The kiss.
Yes.
Now.
She slanted her lips over his, her damp hair falling around their faces as if to further insulate them from the world. He carried her toward the bed, the tips of her toes just skimming the carpet. Her flesh pressed to his, her mouth open and hungry, savoring the minty sweep of his tongue.
Turning, he backed toward the bed and she read his intent without hesitation. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he eased onto the mattress, leaning against the headboard. Still face to face, she straddled his lap, his hard-on still between them. She lost track of how long they touched each other, stroked and stoked, taking their time with each other. The lovemaking a process rather than a goal.
Being with Jose had been fun and exciting, and always one hundred percent in the moment. The man was about marathons, not sprints. Why couldn’t he see that part of his nature was so ingrained he was meant for the long term? He deserved it.
“Stella,” he said against her lips, “stay with me.”
That easily he drew her focus back into the moment, back to the two of them together. How he read her, sensed that her thoughts had been stealing her from this moment together… that scared her. And hurt her. He knew her so damn well.
His hands cupped her waist and he lifted her with ease, positioning her over and lowering her onto his erection. Muscles in his arms bulged with restraint as he took his time bringing them together again, filling her.
Totally.
Tonight wasn’t about reinventing the Kama Sutra. No games or gimmicks. Just the two of them, bodies, breath, thoughts connected, not just tantric, but tantra. Sublime.
He moved inside her as she rolled her hips, sweat slicking their skin. She laved along his shoulder to his ear, tasting the salty mingling of them. She took the lobe of his ear between her teeth and tugged, nipped. He thrust deeper again and again, so fully inside her he touched her womb. Desire gathered in her belly, spreading, and she bit back a groan, fiercely, fighting the urge to come and come hard now.
Her head flung back and she stared up at the ceiling with its swirled mosaics, trying to hold on by distracting herself with tiny tiles depicting… what? She couldn’t think.
He cupped her face and brought her to him. Looking directly in her eyes. Connecting with her in a way that was far beyond sex. Just like the first time she saw him.
Pleasure slammed through her, pulsing outward with a force so strong she cried out. In a smooth sweep he shifted her onto her back and loomed over her, staying inside her, pumping, drawing out her orgasm until her spine arched off the mattress. Her fingers twisted in the sheets to keep from clawing at him as wave after wave crashed through her.
But she forced her eyes to stay open, to watch him, to bring him with her, not to lose any of their time together. And seeing the intensity of his release, the pulse throbbing in his temple, the flush heating his skin only drew out her release.>He tore open the bathroom door, and…
“Damn, Stella.” He grabbed his towel before it hit the floor since he’d loosened it reaching for his gun. “How did you get in here?”
Hands behind her back, she stood just inside the door, her hair damp and loose around her shoulders. She looked more like the woman he’d first met in her jeans and black T-shirt.
She held up a hairpin. “I have crazy good lock picking skills. Comes with the job description.”
God, he’d missed her. He pulled the toothbrush out of the corner of his mouth and tucked it in his gear bag. “You broke into my room to see me?”
Leaning back against the door, she shrugged. “It seemed a better idea than waiting out in the hall until you finished your beauty regimen.”
“I’m glad you’re here.” He scratched along his bare chest. “The whole calm before the storm feeling has me antsy. I wouldn’t have slept well, wondering about you.”
Her eyes lingered on his chest. “You sleep anywhere, like today on the flight over.”
“You watched me sleep?” He walked to her, thinking about their night in Egypt. How could he not? He stopped short of touching her. “Honest to God, Stella, I’m not in the mood to talk. I think I should get dressed and take you back to your room.”
She dropped the pin and reached to touch his chest, trailing one finger lightly back and forth, searing him clean through. “I’m thinking more about what I said earlier. The whole point that we could die a truly gruesome death tomorrow.”
“You’re really romancing me here, lady.” He clasped her wrist, stopping her before his erection dislodged the towel altogether.