"Don't you know?"
"I want you to tell me."
His head dipped, his lips grazed hers. It was a feathery touch. The quiver of his lips against hers told Amanda just how much self-control it took for Jake to keep it that way.
"For you, princess," he admitted softly, huskily. Jake saw a tear slip from the corner of her eye, a crystal bead glistening in the soft, silver moonlight. Leaning forward, he sipped the salty drop away with his mouth and tongue. "I did it for you."
"But—"
"Shhh. I don't want to talk. I've waited too long to have you again, princess, and I... Jesus, I can't wait anymore."
This time when his lips claimed hers, there was nothing soft about it. Nor was there anything soft about Amanda's response.
Jake groaned and pressed her back against the cool, sweet grass. In a heartbeat he'd spread his weight atop her. He loved the way her body accepted his hardness, the way her legs wrapped around him when he nuzzled his hips between her thighs.
She was hungry for him. He could feel it in the way she arched beneath him, in the way her fingers dug into his back as though trying to tear the shirt from his body. He was hungry for her. Ravenous. He'd dreamed of this for days—for long, sleepless nights. In his fantasies, their lovemaking had been slow and easy and so goddamn good.
But that was fantasy.
This—having his woman hot and willing in his arms—was a reality almost too good to live through. Having his blood coursing through his veins, pounding in his head, drilling through his body, was more real than anything Jake had ever known and...
His good intentions shattered. He couldn't go slow. He wanted, needed, her too badly.
He stripped off their clothes with a speed that left them both breathless, then settled himself against her. For a long, torturous moment he was content merely to feel her beneath him, against him. Content to lick a hot, wet path down her throat, and savor the salty, forbidden taste of her on his tongue. Content to draw in deep breaths that were filled with the sweet, sweet scent that was uniquely Amanda Lennox.
But only for a moment. Because Jake's body had other ideas, other demands, and they were too sharp and strong and primitive to deny or ignore.
He lowered his weight atop her, curling one arm beneath and around her, holding her close as he arched forward. He claimed her in one, sure thrust.
She moaned and arched up to meet him. Her legs tightened around his hips as though she never planned to let him go. Jesus, the way he felt right now, Jake prayed to G
od she never would!
Home, he thought as he buried his face in her hair. Home.
Their lovemaking was wild, untamed. Hungry kisses merged with passionate caresses to drive their senses over the brink. The climax built quickly, quickly. It crashed over them in breathtaking waves of sensation, swift and jarring and acute.
If it ended too soon, neither complained...
Because the second time they took each other slowly, and with nerve-shattering ease.
*
The first light of morning tinged the cloud-dotted sky in fluffy, pale pink streaks that looked like they'd been swirled there by an artist's brush. That was the first thing Amanda saw when she opened her eyes. The beauty of daybreak paled in comparison to her second sight, that of Jake Chandler's ruggedly handsome face. His normally harsh features were sleep-softened and relaxed. Attractive. Heart-stoppingly so.
Smiling contentedly, Amanda stifled a yawn and lifted herself up on an elbow. Jake's arm flexed, but he didn't wake up. Though his possessive grip on her hip gradually loosened, it didn't fall away.
Amanda liked that. She liked waking up enfolded in Jake's embrace, in the same way she'd liked sleeping curled in his arms, her cheeks resting against his hard, warm chest. Her dreams had been filled with the lulling beat of his heart... and with memories of their lovemaking. Oh, yes, she did like this. All of it. Maybe more than she had a right to.
At some time during the night, Jake had carried her back to camp. Her body glowed when she remembered how he'd laid her down on the bedroll and covered her with a blanket. Her blood sizzled when she remembered how he'd promptly joined her beneath it. And what they'd done. All night.
Again and again and again.
Amanda felt her cheeks flame. Searching for any distraction from hot, steamy memories, she let her gaze, as well as her hand rake gently through Jake's hair.
The inky strands felt feather-soft as they sifted through her fingers; lighter from lack of length, but just as sleek, just as silky. His hair wasn't as short as he'd led her to believe. The back was just long enough to scrape the collar of a shirt—but, of course, since he wasn't wearing one, that was only a guess on her part, one she wasn't anxious to prove out. The front had been trimmed more severely. It now swept back from his face in an appealing way that accentuated and defined the high mold of his cheeks and the chiseled hollows beneath.
"Oh, Jake," Amanda sighed as she fingered into place a short, inky lock that had wisped over his brow. Why? Why had he done this for her? Why couldn't he say the words? Or didn't he feel the emotion behind them?