Inside of her, something shifted, and guilt and fear died beneath a surge of determination as she watched him leave the room. She was going to have to do something about that.* * * * *

"Wake up, Jenna."

The low drawl wove into her dreams. She turned toward the voice and opened her eyes. Clint knelt before her, his expression unreadable.

"I fell asleep?" She pushed her hair off her face.

Clint's eyes followed the movement and a smile softened the hard line of his mouth.

"Looks like it."

"Where's Bri?"

"She just went down for her nap."

Which meant that they had a couple of hours free.

She waited for the nervousness to come, but instead, all she felt was the same determination that she'd experienced earlier. And antic.i.p.ation. She touched the edge of his smile.

"Does this mean it's later?"

"Do you want it to be?" She loved the way his eyebrow rose when he was amused. She slid her finger into his mouth, jumping at the bolt of sensation that shot down her arm when he sucked it. The hitch in her "Yes"

would have been embarra.s.sing if it hadn't had such aprofound effect on Clint.

His expression went hard in an instant while his eyes burned with an intensity she'd grown to appreciate. His voice, however, was calm. Too calm. The way it was when he was hiding how he really felt. Did he still feel that she wouldn't be able to handle his desire for her? He had a lot to learn about her.

She slid her arms over his shoulders. "Help me up, please."

The ease with which he lifted her sent a quiver of excitement down her spine.

"Can you stand?" he asked, supporting her as she reached her feet.

She tested her leg. "I'm fine."

He steadied her with one hand. The little b.a.l.l.s made their presence known with a vengeance. Her knees buckled on the sharp surge of pleasure. Clint caught her and swore.

"Your leg?"

The blush burned up from her toes, leaving her slightly lightheaded as she confessed, "It's not my leg."

Clint frowned. "You said you weren't hurt." As he talked, his big hands were running over her body, searching for wounds.

Oh heavens. This couldn't get more embarra.s.sing."I'm not hurt."

One beat. Two beats. She could see his mind working. When understanding hit, his smile was pure male satisfaction, and his eyes flared with sensual heat.

He closed the distance between them with one step.

"Those toys giving you a bit of trouble?"

"Yes." Not only were they giving her trouble, but it felt like every nerve ending in her body had joined the fray.

He pulled her against his body. The hard length of his c.o.c.k leapt against her, as if straining to reach her through her skirts. She had an incredible urge to yank the c.u.mbersome material out of the way. Her p.u.s.s.y wept with an equal need. He pushed a strand of hair off of her cheek, that ghost of a smile touching his mouth.

"Can you feel the b.a.l.l.s now?"

She shook her head. "Only when I move."

"And you're sure your leg's not hurting?" His hand slipped behind her neck.

"Yes." She knew better than to ask, but she did anyway. "Why?"

A genuine smile formed as he pulled her forward and lowered his head. "'Cause I think it's time you moved."

She closed her eyes as his firm lips eased hers open.She curved her arms around to grip his forearms with her hands. She loved the way he kissed, all heat and patience and yet so completely carnal that she felt it all the way to her womb, which clenched in delight, triggering a shift of those torturous b.a.l.l.s.

"Can't we just take them out?" she gasped as the spike of desire eased.

"Yes."

She sighed in relief. He turned her around. With his hands on her shoulders he urged her toward the door.

"As soon as we get upstairs."

She looked over her shoulder at him. "You can't mean to..."

"I can't?" He raised his dark brow and laughter blended with the l.u.s.t in his gaze.

"Brianna?"

"Will be asleep for at least two hours."

His hand in the middle of her back propelled her forward, the b.a.l.l.s shifted, b.u.mped together, sending shards of sensation splintering outward. She bit her lip and took a deep breath.

"Oh, this is going to be fun," Clint murmured.

For him maybe, but it was going to be pure torture for her. She took a step. The b.a.l.l.s shifted, and she bit her lip on the moan that snuck past. Clint's laughterfollowed her as she took another. There was the sound of something hitting the chair. A quick glance revealed his coat. The next step got her as far as the bottom of the stairs. She grabbed the rail for support. A board creaked, and then she felt him against her back. His heat and scent seeped into her senses like an insidious drug, making her weaker, more susceptible to the sensations racing out from her core. This time there was no suppressing the moan as she swayed.

"Problems, Sunshine?" His arm came around her waist.

"I can't do this."

"But I want it." His fingers rested on her stomach, just above her pubic bone. "I want you hot and aching, that sweet p.u.s.s.y open for my c.o.c.k."

She was already there. "It's not fair."

"What's not?"

"I want you aching, too."

His lips brushed the side of her neck. "Do you think I can hear your moans, know you're hurting for my touch, and remain unmoved?" His teeth nipped her ear. "That's some d.a.m.ned image you have of me." He pressed with his fingers, ma.s.saging the ache deep inside to a more urgent pulse, at the same time letting her feel the rock- hard length of his c.o.c.k through her skirts.

"I want you baby. I'm just enjoying the antic.i.p.ation."She couldn't come up with anything more eloquent to say than "Oh."

"So why don't you get this luscious a.s.s moving up those stairs so I can get onto playing?"

Luscious? He thought her a.s.s was luscious? The compliment almost made the thought of moving bearable. She put one foot on the stairs. The b.a.l.l.s pressed against her inner walls. Hot licks of fire radiated out. She glanced up. There were fourteen stairs to go. She licked her lip and took another step. Clint was right behind her, his hand on her stomach measuring every hitch in her breath. Her p.u.s.s.y swelled and ached. Her skin beneath his fingers became ultra-sensitive, straining for his touch through her clothing. She paused, gripping the post for strength. Clint eased her back against him.

"Don't fight it," he murmured in her ear. "Just let it flow over you. Let yourself feel good. It's not a sin baby, but a gift."

A gift? It was torture, pure and simple. Her head found the hollow of his shoulder. His lips brushed her ear.

"Climb the stairs, Jenna."

Why did he have to say it just that way, in that voice?

She took one step, and then another. The fire rose up from her groin, raging over her senses, burning out her ability to do anything but feel. She fell back against him."I can't."

"What if I say I want you to?" Still that seductive voice that coated her need with honeyed promise. Her p.u.s.s.y clenched and wept as the inherent promise slid down her spine.

"Please don't."

She shivered as his lips found the side of her neck.

"Do you ache for me, Sunshine?"

"Yes."

He laughed and pushed her forward. She caught herself with her hands on the stair, her back curved, taking most of her weight on her good leg. He came down over her, surrounding her with his body, his hips aligned against her b.u.t.tocks with blatant intent.

"I like you like this, all bent over." His hands drooped down to her knees. He started gathering her skirt.

"Accessible." He piled layer after layer of material into the small of her back. His big hand slipped between her thighs, catching on her moist pantaloons. "Ah Jenna, you get so wet for me."

"I can't help it." She shifted her legs apart to accommodate the width of his hand as he cupped her p.u.s.s.y.

"That wasn't a complaint." His fingers dipped insidethe slit of her pantaloons, the callused tips sc.r.a.ping the hungry flesh. She pushed back against him. He leaned in, his c.o.c.k grinding into her a.s.s. "That's it. Show me what you want."

"You." The embarra.s.sing confession whispered into the quiet of the house. "I want you."

"You've always had me, Sunshine." His teeth sc.r.a.ped the back of her neck.

Not like she wanted. She'd never have him that way.

The stray thought whisked away as his tongue lapped at the spot. Her knees buckled. How could her neck be connected to her p.u.s.s.y?

He laughed and did it again. The sharp spark joined the others, building the internal fire. She twisted against him. His fingers brushed her swollen c.l.i.t in a searing caress.

"Oh G.o.d!" Her knees buckled.

"Hold yourself up." He gave her p.u.s.s.y a soft pat.

She couldn't if he kept doing things like that.

"Do it, Jenna." The order rode the heels of the last shuddering sensation. She braced her knees and tried.

She swayed as he removed his heat and support, but she didn't fall. She considered that a huge success. His hands slid over her hips. "Good."

There was a tug and a ripping sound and then awash of cool air on her b.u.t.tocks as the remnants of her pantaloons slid down her thighs.

"Clint..."

"Who else?"

No one else. No one else could make her feel like this. No one else could make her burn with fire as she bent over, exposed and vulnerable. Only Clint. She only trusted Clint this much.

"d.a.m.n, you have a fantastic a.s.s." His palms curved around each cheek, his fingers braced on her hip bones, the thumbs dipping into the shallow creases at the top.

Her skin throbbed beneath his touch with the same pulse as her p.u.s.s.y.

"You don't think..." She bit back the rest of what she was going to say. Only a weak woman would ask if he though her a.s.s was too big when the truth was in his caress, the way his fingers kneaded in sensual bliss. The way his thumbs glided down the sensitive crease between. The soft hum of appreciation he made in his throat as she involuntarily pushed back into his caress, her body knowing what her mind fought to accept. Clint McKinnely loved the way she looked. She-fat, worthless, almost invisible Jenna Hennesey-could make big strong Clint McKinnely moan from just the sight of her b.u.t.t.

As an experiment, feeling awkward and terriblyexposed, she wiggled her hips.

"Oh yeah." His hands left her. "Do that again."

It was harder without his touch, but she focused on him and measured her success in the harshness of his quickly drawn breath as she did as he ordered.

The sound of leather sliding through metal pulled her up short. She knew that sound intimately. He was taking off his belt.

The little voice inside that had kept her alive for years told her to freeze. To be pa.s.sive so as not to risk provoking him. She was so tired of listening to that voice.

Another, newer voice rose out of the confusion, insidious in its message. It whispered for her to move, to tempt him, to test her power, to see how far she could drive this powerful man.

She wiggled her rear again, slowing the move, listening to the inner rhythm, withdrawing when she heard his breath catch, pushing back when he released it in a tormented curse.

"You're making me burn, Sunshine."

Power and pride washed through her in equal parts.

She waved her a.s.s again.

He laughed. "What happened to my timid little wife?"She gave him the truth. "She's tired of being afraid all the time."

"I like how she's chasing away her fear." A ghost of a caress on her right b.u.t.tock and then he said, "Spread your legs a little more so I can see that sweet p.u.s.s.y."

A wave of awkwardness washed over her, blending with the heat simmering through her, but she didn't give into it. Refused to give into it. This was her husband and he wanted to see her. What was wrong with that? She spread her legs.