Page 100 of A Shot at Love
He’d finally met a woman who liked the same things he did, valued family as highly as him, was independent, successful, smart, witty, drop-dead gorgeous, and trouser-tightening sexy.
And she had a wall around her heart and issues with control and trust.
He stared up at the ceiling, considering. Well, he just needed to tear down that wall and wrestle some of that control away. He’d made a good start. The hot little scene in the kitchen had been about control and trust, and she’d willingly given him both without questioning or jockeying for the upper hand. Gemma had let him take the lead, something he guessed she seldom allowed a man to do.
“Why are you grinning like a fool?” she asked, lifting up on an elbow, the corners of her eyes narrowed.
The sheet pulled away from her torso, allowing him to look his fill at her lovely, perfect breasts. Apparently his hands had a mind of their own and weren’t satisfied with him just looking, because before he could stop them, they reached out and cupped each one, his thumbs swiping across the flattened tips. In an instant they hardened and peaked.
Gemma’s head reeled back as the blue in her eyes turned the color of cobalt. Through her parted, plump lips, a simple sigh escaped, her breath fanning over him.
He’d been semi-hard just thinking about her. Seeing her like this turned him to granite. In one move he had her beneath him, his body covering hers, his hips pressing against hers.
“Again?” She laughed and threw her arms around his neck.
“Again,” he answered, his lips moving across hers.
And a thousand times more, he promised himself.
*
“You okay?”
Gemma turned to him and rolled her eyes. “You’ve asked me that four times in the past two hours. Yes. I’m okay.”
They’d been driving for over six hours, after packing up and leaving the cabin before dawn broke.
Gemma’s sleep had been fitful, even wrapped securely in Ky’s arms. They’d made love one final time before finally succumbing to exhaustion.
Something had been different the last time. He’d seemed… anxious, almost as if he had to please her, had to wring out as much pleasure as he could from her.
Almost as if he were afraid it was the last time they were going to be together, and he wanted to make is as memorable as he could.
He’d been frantic for her, and she for him. If they’d been clothed, the garments would have been in tatters, so desperate were they to touch the other’s skin, caress one another’s bodies.
The sheets came undone from the mattress, the pillows flew in the air. They’d rolled, risen, and repositioned more times than she could remember. At one point, Ky sank to his knees to the floor, grabbed her legs and threw them over his shoulders so he could have better access to all of her.
Once, he’d been buried so deeply inside her, Gemma could feel him straight to her soul. He’d pulled back, his gaze skirting over her entire face, as if memorizing it. Every angle and plane, every dip and hollow.
Right before he climaxed the last time, he’d growled a command that she keep her eyes open. She wondered now if it was because he wanted to watch her lose control or if he wanted her to see him as he did.
Either way, she’d been overcome with a range of conflicting emotions.
“We have about another half hour,” he told her, sliding into the fast lane.
Gemma nodded and fingered the medallion at her neck. After taking a quick shower before leaving, he’d taken it from his neck, slipped it over her head, and had given her a swift, thorough kiss, before dressing.
Now, as she dragged the medallion along the chain, she could almost feel the strength and warmth of its owner flowing through it, from it, and into her fingers. Knowing they’d activated the tracking sensor gave her a little reassurance that nothing untoward would happen to her.
“You don’t seem nervous about any of this,” he said, his gaze flicking from the highway in front of him, to her, and then back again, as if reading her thoughts.
“Oh, I’m nervous,” she said, nodding. “In all honesty, my stomach is doing handsprings and tumbles like an Olympic gymnast in the gold medal competition.”
She turned to face him. “But it’s a little late now to be worried about what will happen. You’ve got a plan. A good one. Let’s hope nothing deviates from it.”
