"Is fine." Clint caught her and held her against his chest as he fussed with the pillows. With her cheek pressed against his shoulder, she inhaled his scent. She just loved the way he always smelled of smoke and the outdoors. The smoky smell was a little stronger today, meaning he'd been up for a while. Long enough to have a cigarette.

"How long have you been up?"

"b.u.t.ton wanted to see the sunrise."

"I would have taken care of her."

"You needed some sleep. And she's decided to take a nap now so drink up and enjoy the peace." He eased her back onto the pillows he'd stacked, and pushed a cup of coffee into her hand.A strand of hair fell over her brow. She reached to move it out of the way, but Clint's hand intercepted hers, taking care of the matter for her. As he was always doing.

She took a sip of her coffee. It was hot and rich with just the right amount of cream, though short a couple of sugar chips. She hid her grimace in another sip.

The mattress dipped as Clint sat on the edge.

"Coffee all right?" he asked slipping his arm around her back, pulling her into his side.

"Perfect." She leaned against the shoulder he provided. "Thank you for taking care of Bri, and for the coffee."

He took a drink of coffee, his black eyes alight with humor over the cup brim, alerting her to the fact that there was something she should be remembering.

"I had an ulterior motive."

She shook her head. No doubt he wanted a chocolate cake for dessert tonight.

The cup lowered, revealing the predatory edge of his smile. She reevaluated. Maybe something more than a chocolate cake.

"Is your woman's time over?" He slipped the question into the conversation as though he was asking about the weather.

She gasped. Coffee went down the wrong way. a.s.she choked and coughed, Clint took her cup with one hand, slapped her on the back with the other, and swore when he knocked her forward. His second slap landed much more gently, merely jostling her. She kept her head down for a minute after the urge to cough had faded. She knew she was blushing beet red. Her cup waved under her nose, the steam from the hot liquid mixing with the moisture in her eyes. The scent soothed her nerves.

"Sorry," Clint apologized. "Should have eased into that one."

"It's all right. She didn't think they needed to discuss it at all. She took the cup.

"So is it?"

"Yes." She'd seen stray dogs with a bone display less tenacity.

"Good."

His smile broadened before he raised his mug to his lips. She watched the muscles in his throat work as he drained it, letting her gaze drift over his face while he was distracted. He was such a handsome man with those even features and chiseled lips. Just looking at his lips had her nipples tingling. It had been a rare moment during the time they'd been together the last few days that those lips hadn't been on her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, nibbling and kissing. Ever since he'd found out that he could make her o.r.g.a.s.m that way, he'd been relentless in hisattentions. To the point that she was getting sore.

He put the mug on the table with a decisive click and c.o.c.ked an eyebrow at her when he caught her staring.

The right corner of his lip kicked up knowingly. Every nerve ending in her body leapt in response. Nothing- nothing on this earth-was as mesmerizing as Clint McKinnely when he smiled.

"Penny for your thoughts?" She buried her face in her cup and shook her head. He sighed and gave her one of those quick hugs that warmed her way down deep.

"You're a selfish woman, Jenna McKinnely."

He didn't sound upset.

Clint leaned to the left, pulling her with him as he went. She held her coffee up and trusted him to control her descent to the mattress. The sound of wood sliding on wood caught her attention, but when Clint pulled his hand back, she couldn't see what he'd pulled from the bed standdrawer.

He loomed over her as she lay there, his hair falling around his naked shoulders and a wicked grin hovering on his lips.

"Stay put." As if she had any choice with his big hand on her belly keeping her there. The sheets rustled as he turned and slid to the floor. The high bed put her hips level with his shoulders. His hand disappeared under the comforter while the smile on his lips spread tohis eyes.

"Now we get to really play."

His fingers closed on her calf, squeezing lightly before sliding up and between them. The muscles in her throat appeared to be connected to the muscles in her leg, because every time he stroked her thigh, her throat tightened until it was almost impossible to swallow. She cleared her throat and found a parody of her voice.

"Play what?"

"With toys."

Toys? She blinked and tried to concentrate but his hand moved, the rough surface of his palm rasped across sensitive nerves until his knuckles brushed the curls shielding her p.u.s.s.y. Pleasure-sharp, sweet, and unexpected-shot through her body. Clint held her still for another touch, equally feather-light, equally devastating. It was as if all the play of the last few days had been designed to culminate in this one moment.

Moisture flooded her thighs, and for one horrible moment she thought her woman's time had returned. But even as she stiffened, Clint was pushing her gown out of the way, the roughness of his morning beard sc.r.a.ping along already attentive nerves. She couldn't help the cry that escaped her lips or the moisture that leaked from her p.u.s.s.y as he parted her with his fingertips.

"Ah, Sunshine, you're getting wet for me." Histongue swept the tender inner flesh. "I like that."

That was good because she didn't have any choice.

A dull thud penetrated her senses. The coffee cup hitting the floor. There was going to be a mess. She didn't care. Couldn't care, because Clint was working her c.l.i.t like he did her nipples. Soft tender kisses followed by gentle laps and then a series of nips and nibbles that had her fingers digging into the coverlet and her teeth biting her lip.

"Dear G.o.d."

"Just you and me here, baby."

Desire drove through her like a steam engine, gathering speed with every pa.s.s of his hot tongue. He pulled her hips down into his face. His beard p.r.i.c.ked.

His tongue lapped, and she cried out, shifting her grip to his hair. The smooth strands tangled with her fingers as she pulled him closer.

"What do you want, Jenna?"

She wanted him. Harder. Higher. But all that came out of her mouth was a ruptured, "Please."

"Please what?" His chin brushed the top of her p.u.s.s.y, dusting her c.l.i.t with a sprinkle of sensation. So close to giving her what she needed. So close. He paused. "Too much?"

She shook her head. The pleasure ebbed back fromthe high of the moment before. She didn't know whether to cry or laugh.

"Not enough?"

She nodded.

"Tell me."

"I can't."

"Sure you can. Just picture it in your mind and then give me the words."

"I can't say that!"

He c.o.c.ked his eyebrow at her. "That good, huh?"

She groaned and closed her eyes.

"How about I just take a guess?" His guess had to be better than her saying anything. She nodded.

There was a soft thunk as whatever he took from the drawer landed on the floor. His hands slid up her calves, and over her knees, slowly parting her legs while holding her gaze. He hooked first one and then the other ankle on his shoulders. His flesh was hot against hers.

He turned his head, brushing her ankle with his mouth.

Fire streaked up her leg. She jerked and he laughed, trailing the backs of his fingers up the inside of her knees, then turning his wrist so that his palms hugged her thighs until his thumbs reached her l.a.b.i.a.

"I like you wet like this."

His thumbs traced the crease of her outer lips,tugging at the hairs, tempting her. On her next breath, his thumbs slipped between the slick folds, the calluses rasping the sensitive tissues. Her womb contracted. Her fingers dug into the quilt as she struggled to contain the sinful sensation streaking outward, knowing it was hopeless even as she made the attempt.

Clint wouldn't allow it. Never allowed it. Sure enough, his fingers dipped within, gliding on her cream to the center of her heat before working with deliberate torment back to the top of her cleft. He rubbed the inside of each engorged lip in a gentle circular motion, grazing her swollen, aching c.l.i.t in random patterns, nudging her desire higher with erratic strokes she couldn't foresee, couldn't control. Until she couldn't hold still. She needed him. His touch, his mouth.

"Please."

"Please what?"

"Please don't make me beg." She wrapped his hair around her fingers and pulled.

His fingers circled her c.l.i.t, spreading them out and then narrowing in until he had the eager nubbin trapped in his grasp. It wasn't enough. She lifted her hips up toward his hands and mouth, offering herself to him in helpless need. He laughed and squeezed gently. She dug her heels into the hard muscles of his back, and yanked hard. His laugh deepened, but didn't give her what shewanted.

"Please," she whispered again, her voice breaking on a humiliated sob, feeling as if her whole being centered for this moment in this one little spot, hating herself for the weakness he drew from her so easily.

"Shh, baby," His deep drawl worked under her insecurity, soothing her fear with the stroke of softness, building her confidence with the promise of strength.

"I'm just making it good."

If he made it any better she'd die. Even as she had the thought, he took her higher, closing those teasing fingers on her c.l.i.t in a steady pinch. Not hard enough to hurt but hard enough to have every fiber of her being straining to get closer. And then he started milking her c.l.i.t the way he milked her breast-light, short, deliberate strokes that pulled every one of those fibers to a grinding pitch of desire until the tormenting need exploded in a burning conflagration of l.u.s.t so strong that she screamed.

Her hips lurched as he lunged upward. His broad palm slapped over her mouth.

The suddenness of the move scared her into silence.

When she dared to look over his hand, he was staring down at her, shaking his head, an impossibly wicked smile playing on his lips.

"Quiet, or you'll wake Brianna."

Oh heavens, she didn't want to wake Brianna, butshe didn't know how she was going to survive this. Not as she was now, her legs over his shoulders, her hips raised off the bed, her body open and vulnerable to anything he wanted.

"Take a breath now, baby."

She did, resting her fingers on the solid muscle of his shoulders.

"Hold it." He eased his palm from her mouth. "Don't scream, no matter what."

She dug her fingers in and nodded.

"Good girl." He kissed his way down her torso, stopping at the undercurve of her breast to draw an intricate pattern over that spot that was connected directly to her p.u.s.s.y. Her breath caught in her throat, and her juices pulsed from her womanhood to flow over her b.u.t.tocks, dampening the comforter. He abandoned her breast and slid down, his chest hair tickling her abdomen. He spread her thighs wider and then pressed that p.r.i.c.kly soft mat of hair against her distended c.l.i.toris.

His tongue dipped into her navel as he rubbed against her like a big, contented cat-his smile pressing into her belly as she whimpered. "Now that's a sweet little noise.

Give it to me again."

She did, helpless to do anything else as he lifted her up, spreading her thighs wide with his shoulders, leaving her open to his mercy.He had none.

He held her there for a heartbeat, his breath blowing on her flesh, wafting over her dripping folds before crashing into the barrier of her c.l.i.t, seeming to wrap around the hypersensitive spot in an undulating promise.

"Oh heavens." She couldn't breathe, couldn't move.

All she could do was wait and hope.

He leaned forward, riding the depth of her need, rasping her c.l.i.t with his chin, sending the wild sensation shrieking outward. Every muscle snapped taut. He soothed the slight pain with his tongue before lashing the arousal back into full force, holding his tongue against her when she needed more, driving her upward when she wanted to rest, never letting her calm, keeping her on the edge until she shoved her hand in her mouth and bit back the welling scream. Only then did he take pity on her, curling his tongue gently around her c.l.i.t, easing it into his mouth with a gentle suction that increased little by little until breathing became impossible. All she could do was strain toward the fulfillment that he held out before her like a glittering promise. Then with a nip and a sc.r.a.pe of his teeth he sent her hurtling toward it, giving her an extra boost with his clever tongue as she reached the pinnacle, catching her as she came back down to earth. Stroking her thighs and stomach soothingly as she did, he nursed her back toreality with light, easy suctions as his tongue restored her sanity. She relaxed into his caress, needing it, needing the break from the wildness to gather her control. His mouth pressed hard against her as he tugged his hand free. The mattress dipped and then something solid and round pressed against the dripping well of her v.a.g.i.n.a.

"Clint?"

"Just hold still and relax, baby."

"What is that?"

"A very fun toy we're going to play with today."

The pressure against her increased. He was putting it in her. She tried to back up but the headboard prevented her flight. His arms over her thighs kept her from going anywhere. She took a breath as the round object spread her.

"Easy, Sunshine, just a little more."

"Clint, this isn't right!"

"I want it."

"But..."

"Are you denying me?" He looked up at her, his expression calm, his eyes burning hot.

Dare she? She bit her lip and shook her head. It wasn't her place to deny him anything. And then it was too late. With a pinch, the object slipped inside her. Shedidn't know what to do. What to say. She'd never dreamed a man would want to put something other than himself inside of her. Had no idea why he'd want to do that.

"That's my girl." His tongue smoothed over her c.l.i.t in a lash of rasping heat. That low drawl combined with that soft, rough tongue on her ultra-sensitive flesh sent fire racing to her core. The shiver started at her toes, worked up her torso, and ended with a sporadic twist of her head. Her hair tumbled over her face as his appreciative laugh buffeted her sensitive nub. The shiver started all over again. Before it reached her shoulders, another one of those smooth b.a.l.l.s was pressing against her, spreading her. She grabbed Clint's shoulders. "Just a little bit more, Sunshine, and we'll be all set."

She bit her lip against the instinctive denial. Her nails dug into his shoulders through his shirt. Her breath came in tense pants.

"How do you do this to me?" she blurted as the second ball seated.