What Janie Wants Read online

  Janie sucked in a sharp breath and her eyes widened. “It’s like a giant moon roof.”

  “More or less.” The motor click-click-clicked, signaling it had reached the end of its track, and Zade punched the toggle back to neutral.

  “The Stargazer bungalow.” She rolled her head, and looked at him. “I’d never put the cover up.”

  Zade chuckled and crossed to one of two bedside gold club chairs. “You say that now, but around five thirty in the morning, you’d be singing a whole different tune.” He eased into the deep cushions and sat back, arms on the armrests and knees wide.

  Janie scrunched deeper into the pillows and drew her knees up at the same time. The moon did gorgeous things to her rich coloring, turning the contrast of her red hair and his white sheets into a sultry work of art. Fuck. He needed his camera and about ten memory cards.

  Yeah, like that won’t make her hightail it back to her room.

  She sighed and curled her toes. “You know, it’s not too much different from my house in Allen.”

  His heart jolted and he snapped from languidness to high alert. “Allen?”

  “Mmm hmm.” She dipped her chin and met his gaze. “Texas. Just outside of Dallas.” She lolled back on the pillows, gaze aimed at the stars and a dreamy expression on her face. “Our place—” Her mouth tensed. “My place is on the outskirts of town. Not a lot of development so you don’t get as much of the city lights.”

  A whopping thirty-five minutes tops from his place in Uptown. Son of a bitch. He could see her more than just this week, assuming they could get past her age hangup and she was interested.

  She rolled to her side and propped her head up with one hand. Her hair was wild and free around her, all waves and layers. The kind of image that begged a man to dive in and take over. “It’s funny. We’ve lived there for nearly five years and I’ve spent more time outside in the last nine months than I spent the whole time before that. I can sit on the back porch for hours. Just a glass of wine, my Adirondack chair, and lots and lots of thoughts.”

  A smart and thoughtful woman with an eye for details, and who was sexy as hell. The universe couldn’t have spun a better scenario.

  And she only lived thirty-five minutes away.

  She smoothed the comforter. “What are you thinking?”

  God, he wanted her to touch him like that. To feel her hair trail against his skin while she worked her lips up and down his body. His voice caught a little on the tension in his throat. “I’m thinking I wish my camera was in my hand instead of in my closet. I’m thinking there’s no way in hell I can take it out of the closet without scaring you off. And so, I’m thinking it’s best I commit every damned detail of you stretched out on my bed to memory while I’ve got the chance.”

  He lifted his hips a fraction and adjusted his cock. It was either that or cut off circulation to the one part of his body demanding the bulk of his blood flow. “Mostly though, I’m thinking I’d give anything for you to invite me to crawl across the bed and make damned sure the only thing you can do is feel.”

  Janie froze, every muscle locked solid and her breath stifled. The only thing actively working was her heart, which after its initial stumble, had taken off at a gallop.

  So tempting. So terribly tempting.

  The shadows around him accented the sharp angles of his jaw and nose, and his voice dropped to a grumble. “Talk to me, Janie.”

  And tell him what? That she wanted what he wanted as bad as he did, but she was terrified to give the green light? That she wasn’t sure she could take the disappointment in his eyes if things got serious and he saw what a quality sundress could hide? “What do you want to know?”

  “Tell me what you want.”

  Touch. Passion. Contact. Skin. It all rushed in at once and seized her thoughts.

  “One word. One thing at a time.” His posture was loose, those powerful hands of his relaxed against the wide gold armrests, but the air around him seemed super-charged. So much so, she could almost scent a summer thunderstorm.

  She swallowed and tried to catch her breath. Her answer leapt to her tongue, ready for launch, then stalled. Damn it to hell, she was a living, breathing human, not some freakish deviant. Why couldn’t she say what she wanted? Just own it. It was one night. One chance she may never get again. “A kiss.”

  His fingers dug into the plush upholstery.

  The surf crashed against the shore and amplified the tense moment, the sound as bold and passionate as the man watching her.

  He stood and padded to her side of the bed.

  With every step, her heartbeat surged a notch, and a deep, needy pulse built in her core.

  He unhooked his watch. One of those chunky ones her son had begged her for two Christmases ago. Somehow the silver looked right on Zade. Manly. Effortless and stylish without being overblown.

  As he set the watch aside, it clunked on the nightstand.

  She fisted the cool, crisp sheets and fought the urge to trace the prominent veins that peeked from beneath his rolled sleeves. To pull him closer and nuzzle where the top two buttons of his shirt parted. To surround herself with his powerful scent.

  What had she gotten herself into? Never mind age. Trifling with a man like this was tantamount to dancing in the middle of a giant bonfire bathed in gasoline. Her conscience knew it. Kept tapping at the corner of her oxygen-starved thought processes, but every other part of her thrummed and begged to writhe in the flames.

  His gaze devoured her, bright blue and bold as a spring sky, framed by loose blond bangs. He straddled her thighs and caged her with his arms, holding himself above her, not touching. “A kiss.” He dipped closer, and inhaled deep. “Want to point out, you didn’t put any restrictions on your request.”

  A shudder rippled through her, the sensual sound of his breath and the timbre of his voice resonating like a physical stroke. A simple brush of sensation behind each ear and down her neck.

  He traced the line of her lips with his own, close enough to tickle and tease, but not nearly enough to give her what she craved. “You didn’t say how…” His warm breath fluttered against her face. “…or where.” He licked her lower lip and lifted his gaze to hers. “I’ll take that to mean I get to taste all of you.”

  Contact.

  Full, firm, delicious contact. Not a peck before bed. Not a lackluster pretense of interest, but a kiss in the truest sense. Consuming and wild.

  His tongue swept past her lips, demanding and merciless. Tasting, licking, nipping her parted mouth until she thought she’d drown in the pleasure. He cruised the line of her jaw with his lips, sampling her skin with tiny flicks of his tongue along the way. “You want more?”

  She rolled her head to one side and arched her neck to make way for his devious mouth. He wanted her to think? Now? Thoughts were the last thing she wanted to process. Not with her body languid and pulse pounding.

  His teeth scraped the tender shell of her ear, and his voice rumbled deep. “Got a death grip on my hair and the way your hips are moving makes me want to strip you naked and put my mouth to good use somewhere else.” He kissed a path down her neck. “Tell me, Janie. You want my weight? My touch?”

  Dangerous. So damned dangerous. A line she couldn’t cross back from. Her body practically sang beneath him. Demanded more of everything he offered, and didn’t give a damn about consequences and awkward morning afters.

  He lifted his head, virility pouring off his sharp features. This wasn’t a boy. This was a man. A man who wanted her. Desired her enough to wade through all her tangled issues and hang-ups. To take his time and make her feel more alive than she’d felt in forever.

  Why shouldn’t she ask for what she wanted? She was a grown woman, more than capable of facing tomorrow morning or any other day. She unclenched the back of his head and savored his broad shoulders through his starched shirt, all primal heat and strength beneath her palms. “I didn’t come prepared for this.”

  His gaze dropped to her mouth, then
back up to her eyes. “No pressure. Only what makes you feel good.” He shifted away.

  “Wait.” Janie stopped him, digging her nails deep. She trailed her fingers down his throat and rested her palm above his chest. His heartbeat thrummed, solid and steadier than hers, but powerful all the same. “I meant I didn’t anticipate precautions. I haven’t needed to before. Didn’t think we’d—”

  “Stop.” He captured her hand, lifted it to his lips, and nipped the pad of her middle finger. The contact zinged down her arm and detonated in her belly.

  Keeping his eyes on her, he reached to the nightstand and opened the top drawer. He plunked a box of condoms on the edge. “I was a first-rate Boy Scout.” Still withholding his weight, he re-centered himself above her. “And before you go wondering, that’s a brand new box I picked up after I left you on the beach. Prayed the whole time I wasn’t jinxing myself.”

  “That’s a big box.”

  “Positive thinking.” He kissed her. Slow at first, then deeper, nudging her back to mindless euphoria. “Tell me, Janie.” He nipped her lower lip and licked to sooth it. “Tell me you want this and I’ll spend the rest of the night finding every way I can to make you feel good.”

  She tugged his shoulders, urging him to her, needing the press of his hard body against hers, the scent of him on her skin.

  “Huh uh,” he muttered.

  God, she was drowning and on fire all at once. Desperate for air, with too many clothes, and not enough touch.

  His voice vibrated against her lips. “Say it and I’ll give you what you want.”

  “I want this.” It felt like a confession, the weight of worry and fear dissipating as soon as her whisper slipped free. She might regret it later, but she was done with second-guessing herself. Fisting her hands in his hair, she forced more courage into her voice. “I’m scared to death, but I want this. I don’t want to think. I don’t want to talk. I just want to feel.”

  A wicked smile split ear to ear and his low, rich voice rattled every nerve ending. “What Janie wants, Janie gets.”

  He swept in. Lips to lips, hand to the back of her head, and body to body. He growled against her mouth and ground his hips against her. “Feel that?”

  Heck, yes, she did. One hundred percent virile male, fully engaged and ready for action. And it felt fantastic. Liberating, even as he pinned her against the mattress.

  He undulated lower and his cock raked the top of her mound, the pressure and her sundress dragging sensuously against her silk panties. “Stroked one off yesterday and twice today, and I’m still hard enough to drive nails.”

  He thumbed her nipple through the light fabric, the tight point so sensitive, the touch shot clear to her toes. “Tell me the truth.” He cupped her breast and the heat of his palm seared straight through her dress. “Have you touched yourself since yesterday?”

  “No.” A serious miscalculation she wished like hell he’d hurry up and rectify. She pressed her thighs together and rubbed her mound against him. God, she was wet, her panties clinging to her labia in a way that only made the ache between her legs worse.

  He peeled the dress straps off her shoulders and teased the exposed swells of her breasts. “You think about it?”

  The snippets she’d allowed alone in her room blasted front and center in her mind. Zade naked above her, buried deep, her hands splayed across and sampling his chest. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to kick the image.

  He chuckled and peeled her dress an inch or two further, licking the space he’d exposed. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  The fabric barely covered her nipples, the rasp so erotic she almost begged him to free her completely. To sooth her need with his hot mouth. She arched an offering. So close. Almost there.

  “Tell me what you thought about.” He sat back on his heels and ghosted his knuckles down her sternum.

  Damn it, he wasn’t making this easy. Good, but not easy. She touched the hollow of his throat and dragged until her fingers met the first button on his shirt. “Your body.” She flipped the button free and slipped her hand inside. Warm, tight skin stretched over strong, lean muscles. “How it would look. How it would feel.”

  His eyes darkened and he gripped the sides of her dress. “Think we had the same fantasy.” He pulled the fabric down to her waist, his gaze trailing with it.

  The breeze through the open door teased her tight breasts, and her nipples beaded to the point they ached.

  “Beautiful.” He tugged her dress lower. Past her hips, her ankles, then tossed it to the floor. With his palms at her hips, he pressed a reverent kiss above her navel, eyes feasting on every inch of her. Slowly, he met her stare and traced the lace waistband of her panties. “Perfect curves and creamy skin.” He dragged his thumb down the center of her mound and stroked her clit through the silk. “I’ll bet you taste even better.”

  Oh, dear Lord, imagining those lips on her sex. She moaned and flexed into the perfect pressure his fingers created. Slick friction. Too much and not enough.

  “Fuck, yes, I love that sound.” He whipped her panties down her legs and crawled between her thighs. Planting one hand beside her head, he held himself above her, eyes locked to hers, and slipped his fingers through her slit. “So wet.” He slicked the moisture up and around her clit, then teased her entrance. “First time, just like this. Where I can watch you come.”

  “First time?” As in more than one? Was he crazy?

  “First time.” He grinned, more feral and determined than playful. “As in several.” He thrust a finger deep.

  She whimpered and lifted to meet his strokes, grinding against the heel of his hand. Maybe not so crazy after all. The man had a way with his fingers, slicking inside her with confident, demanding strokes.

  “Want more of those sexy noises.” He added a second finger, pumping slow and steady. “Want to feel your pussy squeeze me and hear you shout while you do it.”

  Her muscles quivered, a powerful release so close and bright it threatened to burn.

  “Look at me, Janie.” His cock pressed against her hip, the rough abrasion of his khakis sinful on her bare skin. “Look at me and let me watch it take you.”

  She pried her eyes open.

  His blazing blue gaze shone down on her. Hungry. Powerful. “That’s it.” He angled his wrist, nudging the sweet spot inside, and thumbed her clit. “Right. Fucking. There.”

  “Yes.” Ragged and broken, she cried out as her sex clutched him. Over and over, one delicious pulse after another. Perfect. Wicked and all consuming. She rode each thrust, her hips lifting and falling to drag the sensation out as long as it could go.

  She clasped his shoulders, lust and the after effects of her shouts straining her voice. “Zade.”

  “Right here.” He kissed her temple, then skated his lips along her cheekbone. His movements eased in intensity, but kept a slow, easy pace. “Unbutton my shirt, babe. Don’t want to let you go yet.”

  Oh, God. He was still dressed. “You didn’t—”

  “Got exactly what I wanted.” He deepened his strokes. “Gonna get more as soon as you get this shirt off of me.”

  Shirt off. Right.

  The pressure of his thumb on her clit increased and he licked and sucked the line of her neck.

  “Ohhh.” She tugged and fumbled with the buttons. “Can’t focus when you do that.”

  “Rip the damned things.” His tongue circled her nipple, breath hot against the hard peak. “Don’t care how, just get it off.”

  The last button slipped free and she shoved it past his shoulders.

  He growled and sat back, gaze locked on his busy fingers buried deep. “Touch yourself.”

  Her hips flinched and broke rhythm for all of a millisecond. “What?”

  His eyes snapped to hers. “Just got you going. Not about to let you ease down yet.” His mouth tilted in a naughty grin. “Come on, Janie. You yelled like a wild woman. We both know what you’ve got bottled up in there. Let go and own it.”
r />   Let go. Own it. Why the hell not?

  She unfisted the sheet and caressed her belly.

  “Oh, yeah.” He shrugged one arm from his shirt, the rest dangling from his still occupied hand between her legs. With every move of his wrist, his muscles flexed, tanned flesh rippling in the moonlight.

  He kept at it, seemingly mesmerized by her hesitant fingers, until they dipped close to his.

  He pulled free.

  Janie groaned at the loss and surged to replace it.

  He popped his fingers in his mouth and sucked her release like it was the sweetest treat he’d ever received. “Hell, yeah. Want more of that, too.”

  Tossing off the last sleeve, he maneuvered off the bed and unfastened his belt in quick, sharp movements. He shoved his pants past his hips and reached for the box on the nightstand.

  Sweet mother of all that’s holy.

  The crinkle of foil dimly registered, but Janie couldn’t tear her eyes off his cock. Thick, heavily veined, and jutting tall. Her knees widened of their own accord, breath huffing to match a marathoner’s.

  “Just like that.” Zade fisted his shaft and stroked. Once. Twice. “Fuck, that’s sexy as hell.” He rolled the condom into place and crawled between her thighs, gaze locked on her steady strokes. Sliding his hands beneath her hips, he lifted her up. “My turn.”

  “Yes!” She clutched the back of his head, hands fisted in his hair. “Zade.”

  His growl vibrated against her flesh and his tongue lashed through her folds. Scorching. Branding her with his wicked mouth on her clit.

  Another climax billowed up, slower than the first, but bigger. Powerful enough to leave her boneless. She tugged his hair, a tiny part of her embarrassed at the savage treatment, but the rest of her desperate to be filled. “Zade, now. Please.”

  His head whipped up, lips shiny with her release. “Now what?” He crept up her body, his heavy shaft bobbing with each movement. “Tell me.”

  To hell with reservations. With right and wrong. Age and worry. “Fuck me.” It rolled off her tongue, smooth and easy. Empowering and bold. “Fill me up and fuck me hard. Now.”