Why did they have to talk? “What?”
“Does this feel good?” The backs of his fingers flicked over her breast. “And this?” He reached lower. “Does it?”
“Yes,” she gasped, “but—”
“Then why rush?” He kissed her protest away. “You say it won’t finish the way I think it will. So? If you’re enjoying it, don’t push me away just because of what you think I expect.”
It made sense. If only she could believe he meant it. Knowing Jacob, he probably thought he could succeed where eight years in a marriage bed hadn’t. She cringed, envisioning the realization that would steal over his face as minutes passed and he accepted that he’d failed. She’d failed.
He breathed against her lips. “Trust me.”
She wanted to do just that and simply bask in the warm tension building from his persistent touch. Where Deirdre would insist he stop, Dee would have taken a risk and let him continue.
How very much she wanted Dee’s boldness. She could have it, for tonight with Jacob. Dee was the woman he knew, the woman he’d taken to bed.
She closed her eyes, forgot about passing minutes or possible goals and savored. She gathered every sensation like a treasured gift, the glide of fingers, the caress of lips along her ear as he whispered all the ways he longed to love her body.
Release crashed over her without warning. Like a wave slapping her, almost painful in its intensity, leaving her struggling for air. Her back bowed off the bed, driving his hand harder, his finger deeper and sending a fresh wave pulsing through her, building until her cries of pleasure rode on the last rush.
Reality returned in increments. The stars faintly visible through the swirl of snow along the skylight. Jacob sweeping her hair away from her face. His leg nestled between her thighs, a heavy, delicious burden.
Dee loosened her fingernail-deep grip on his hip, and his mouth tipped in a hint of a smile. His eyes cleared, and he let her in for a rare look that said far more than words. Her friend had returned. Only a hint of male pride gleamed in his eyes, mingling with happiness for her.
When her heart had slowed to something resembling a slow jog, she squeezed his hand. He dropped a kiss to her forehead and rolled away. Dee almost shouted her frustration until she saw him delve into his bedside table and pull out a small, square cellophane packet.
A totally irrational wad of jealousy punched her. She chewed the insides of her mouth to keep from asking him whom he’d bought them for.
Jacob glanced at her. “After that night in the back of my truck.”
“What?”
“I bought a box the next day. I told myself we shouldn’t end up here. Having these around still seemed smart.”
“Very smart.”
He sheathed himself and tucked her beneath him again. With the quilt under her, Jacob over her and the stars glimmering through the skylight above, Dee couldn’t help but remember that kiss. How much he’d needed her then. How much they needed each other now.
Eyes locked on each other, he entered her slowly, as her body stretched to accommodate him. He stilled, bearing the bulk of his weight on his forearms. She gazed up at him, almost seeing him anew during that instant of being joined for the first time.
Then he moved, and she lost the ability to think about beginnings—inevitable endings. So long. It had been so long, if ever, since she’d felt such an incredible heightened sense of awareness. Rather than forgetfulness, she’d found an awakening that surpassed anything she could have wished for.
They found the rhythm unique to their union, neared the edge and fought it off, prolonging the sensations like a gift that would be snatched away once they accepted it.
Finally his heaving chest, their sweat-slicked bodies, signaled an end, and she almost mourned the pleasure she knew was an instant away. Again, his hand found her, circled, a single nudge sending her spiraling until she felt as if she’d flown through the skylight, free-falling into the night.
With a hoarse shout, he joined her. She reached to hold his hand as her body accepted him.
She feared her heart wasn’t far behind.
With Dee’s sleeping body curled against him, Jacob could almost allow himself to forget they had to put their feet on the floor and resume life in a few hours.
Gently he loosened her grip on his hand. When she didn’t stir, he draped the quilt over her arm and up to her creamy, bare shoulders. He skimmed his thumb along her collarbone, to the hollow of her throat.
Already he stirred again at even the thought of crawling beneath that quilt and losing himself inside her. If he thought once more would satisfy his need for her, he would. But he knew it wouldn’t be enough.
Jacob snatched his hand away and shoved to his feet.
It was only supposed to be about sex, a release, a momentary escape for both of them. Of course, it could have been all about sex for her. How clearly he could see her beautiful face flooding with surprise just before shifting to lazy-lidded pleasure.