She cried out, orgasm singing through her, sweet silver notes of bliss carrying her skyward, then leaving her to float in honeyed stillness.
Zach inhaled her musky scent, let it fill his head, her taste on his lips and tongue. He tried to memorize both, wanting to remember, wanting to carry something of her with him. He’d told himself that once life got back to normal and he was back at EPIC working the line again, his crazy need for her would fade and he would stop wanting her. But that was a damned lie. What he felt for her, it was . . .
He stopped himself, unable to go there. He was with her, and that was enough.
Natalie.
She was still now, her breathing deep and even, her face relaxed. Then, as if she knew he was watching, she opened her eyes and reached for him.
He stood, shucked his jeans and boxer briefs, and went to her, drawing her into the center of the bed. He settled himself between her thighs, brushed his lips over hers. “I didn’t plan this. I don’t have a condom with me.”
“The last one broke anyway.” She reached down, took his cock in her hand, and guided him to her.
His gaze locked with hers, he nudged himself into her, the shock of being inside her surging upward from his balls to his brain, making his mind go blank. She was hot and slick from her own orgasm, her muscles gripping him like a fist. He gave her a second to get used to him—or he tried to. But instinct was driving him to thrust, to pound himself into her, to go as hard and deep as he could.
Make it last, McBride.
He willed his body to relax, tried to sink into an easy rhythm, but she felt so good, her hips rising to meet his, her body arching upward, her throaty moans urging him on. Her hands slid up his biceps and over his shoulders, exploring his muscles, kneading them, testing them. Then she murmured his name and wrapped her arms around him, drawing his full weight down against her.
Natalie, sweet Natalie.
Skin against soft skin. A clash of lips and tongues. Hands seeking and caressing. She was everything he wanted. She was everything he couldn’t have. But tonight . . . Right now . . . Here in this room, she was his.
God, she felt good. He’d stay like this forever if he could. Hell, yeah, he would. He’d stay right here inside this room, inside her, until her friends knocked down the door and shot him, until he starved to death, until hell froze over and melted again. But his male physiology wouldn’t cooperate, his balls drawing tight, the first crest of an orgasm drawing near.
He shifted his position, riding her high, grinding against her with his pelvic bone and the root of his cock, trying to slow himself down, wanting to draw it out for both of them. He felt her tense, her breath coming in shudders, the tension building inside her, her nails digging into his skin. He kept the rhythm steady, refusing to rush her, giving her all the time she needed.
Her eyes went wide for a second. “Oh!”
Then she squeezed them shut, her head going back on a cry, her inner muscles contracting around him, delight shining on her beautiful face. And then . . .
Tears?
They slid from the corners of her eyes, down her temples.
But he was too far gone now.
Shifting positions, he drove himself into her fast and deep and hard, his hips a piston. He couldn’t stop himself, couldn’t think, could only feel, her hands on his skin, her lips on his throat, her vagina gripping him, stroking him, sending him over the edge.
And then he could hold out no more. “Oh, angel, you’re so . . .”
At the last second, he withdrew, but rather than coming into the cold and empty air, he felt her hand close around him. He groaned, the force of his release shaking him apart as he thrust into her fist once, twice, three times, spilling himself on her belly.
His head dropped to rest between her breasts as he caught his breath, her fingers sliding lazily through his hair. Then, contented down to his very soul, he kissed her tears away.
CHAPTER 21
THEY MADE LOVE twice more—again on the bed and then in the shower. Natalie wanted the night to last forever, but soon it was four in the morning and then six, time unstoppable, minutes slipping away, the sun already up.
She snuggled against his chest, running her fingers through his chest hair, savoring the scent and feel of him, knowing that the magic spell that had bound them together all night would soon be broken and that he would rise, dress, kiss her—and then walk out of her life.
How strange it was that a week ago she hadn’t even known this man. She’d been a ghost then, drifting, hollow, numb. Then Zach had spoken to her out of the darkness, saving her, making herfeelagain, bringing her back to life. And now he was going to leave her world as abruptly as he’d entered it. What she didn’t understand waswhy.
It had made sense when he’d been Zach Black the criminal. He’d told her that his life wasn’t the kind a man shared with a woman. She’d taken that to mean that he was mixed up in bad things, dangerous things that could get him and those close to him hurt. And perhaps that is what he’d meant. Except that he was on therightside of the law.
He stroked her shoulder lazily with his thumb. “What are you thinking? There’s a frown on your pretty face.”
She wasn’t sure she wanted to tell him, afraid her words would spoil whatever was left of their time together. “I was thinking how much I’m going to miss you.”