Kisses In The Sand: Blame It On The Kiss Part 15

She hadn't known how much dirty talk could turn her on. Combined with his s.e.xy voice it thrilled her unbearably. Her core muscles tightened, she wound her legs around his hips meeting him thrust for thrust, and she came with his name on her lips once again.

"I'm glad you like what I have in store for you," he said against her cheek before lifting her bottom with his hand and moving deeper inside her.

Catching her breath, she moaned against his continued onslaught. He didn't let up and his measured, insistent rhythm took her right back to the edge of release. "Bryce," she moaned.

"Come for me one more time." He lifted her hips higher, hitting her sensitive core at just the right angle and...

"Oh...Oh G.o.d," she shouted, convulsing around him a second time.

He followed right behind, shuddering then stiffening with his release before he collapsed on top of her.

She was 100 percent ruined. And happier than she'd ever admit. He rolled over and tucked her against his side. "Give me a few minutes," he said, sounding tired but happy, "before I make good on my promises."

She circled his nipple with her finger. "That's a pretty short recovery time."

"You inspire me."

"Yeah?" She loved the sound of that. What she didn't love was the sound of the doorbell.

"Is that someone at-"

She bolted up. She'd been unaware of the rain while making love with Bryce, but now the incessant thrumming of the storm on her window came through loud and clear. "Yes. I think it's probably my neighbor and she needs my help."

Chapter Nine.

Rain pelted Bryce's back as he removed the wet, muddy leaves from the drain in Mrs. Jamison's backyard. His finger stung like a mother, having sliced it open when he pried the rusted metal drain cover off, but his efforts were paying off. Water ran down the pipe now rather than pooling around the opening.

The tiny, older woman had been so frantic at Honor's front door that he'd run out without shoes and barely had his pants zipped and b.u.t.toned.

He glanced up at the sliding gla.s.s door where he'd insisted Honor wait with Mrs. Jamison. Honor had her arm around the woman's shoulders and her lips moved. No doubt she spoke rea.s.suring and caring words to her neighbor. His heart swelled with affection. Honor's regard for others was insanely attractive.

Reaching as far down as his arm could go, he scooped out the last of the caked-together leaves. Tomorrow he'd call someone to run a plumber's snake down the drain to rid any more clogs.

He stood and gave a thumbs-up, glad the water level around the small yard had dropped considerably. Mrs. Jamison put a hand to her chest in a gesture of grat.i.tude and relief. Honor motioned with a thumb over her shoulder to meet him around front.

The warped wood side gate took some heaving to close properly and he made a mental note to mention it to Danny. His friend could have it fixed in no time.

Honor met him under the awning at the garage. Her dazzling smile made him eager to get back to her bedroom. "Mrs. Jamison says you're her hero."

He shrugged off the description before a full body shiver swept over him. "I was happy to help."

"You're freezing. Come on." She ran ahead of him to her front door. Once there she pushed him inside and straight into the bathroom where she turned on the shower.

Curious as to what exactly she had in store for him, he kept still, arms at his sides. He'd taken charge in the bedroom. Maybe she'd like to run the show here as steam filled the room. Just until he put into play the next blitz on her smoking hot body.

Her regard connected with his and the chill that had seeped under his skin disappeared. With one look she set his blood on fire. With one look he knew there was nothing casual about what they were doing. He should hightail it out of here right now, but the drawing power swirling between them had roots that defied his good sense. He'd set his mind to pulling them up in the morning.

She pulled his dripping wet shirt over his head then bent down to remove his drenched pants. She'd unb.u.t.toned and unzipped him when her head jerked back and she started inspecting his torso. "You're bleeding somewhere." Her voice, full of concern, hit him square in the gut. "There's blood on the floor."

He lifted his arm and sure enough blood dripped down his index finger. "It's nothing."

"It's not nothing." She popped to her feet and took his wrist to tug him to the sink. With his hand over the porcelain bowl she studied the wound. "You cut it on the drain?"

"Yes."

"When was your last teta.n.u.s shot?"

The corners of his mouth lifted. Nurse Honor was d.a.m.n adorable. "h.e.l.l if I know." He flinched when her fingers got a little too close to the action.

"You need st.i.tches."

"No way."

"Way." She put his finger under the faucet and washed it with soap and warm water.

He clenched his jaw. Jesus Christ, that hurt.

"Here's what you're going to do. Jump in the shower really quick to get warm, I'll find some sweats of Cooper's for you to put on, and then I'm taking you to the ER." She turned off the water and dropped back to the floor to wrangle his pants and underwear off him.

With only one night to do all the things he planned to do to her, the last thing he wanted was to waste time with a trip to the hospital.

Her warm breath fanned over his c.o.c.k and it sprang to life.

"Bryce! This is serious."

"As a hard on."

She stood, put her palm over his heart. The skin there heated. "Do what I asked and I'll take very good of that later."

Hard-no pun intended-to argue with that, especially when her s.e.xy voice carried soft-heartedness that he felt deep in his chest. He got in and out of the shower, put on the clothes she gave him and pressed some gauze to his finger to try and stop the bleeding that refused to let up.

"Okay, let's go," she said from the bathroom doorway. She'd slipped on knee-high black rain boots with white polka dots on them and a black trench coat with a belt cinched around her waist.

"Looking at you, I want it to rain every day." He didn't hide his top to bottom perusal. Covered from head to toe she still stole his breath.

A blush fanned across her cheeks. "Quit stalling and come on." When he didn't budge, she t.i.tled her head to the side and studied him.

"I really think a Band Aid will do," he a.s.serted.

"Trust me. It won't." She stepped closer like maybe she understood what he was really trying to say. The idea that she recognized his unspoken thoughts on the situation threw the night completely off balance. He was here for one night of s.e.x. The last thing he wanted was her inside his head.

"How do you know?" he ventured anyway.

She gulped. "Coop's had more st.i.tches than I've had sneezes." She ran her fingers through his damp hair. "You don't like hospitals, do you?"

"Not really." His heart hurdled to the back of his throat. She got him.

"What happened?"

"Bike accident when I was sixteen. Broke both my legs." Her eyes widened, not with sympathy, but awe. No one had any idea unless he shared it. "I don't talk about it, but if I can avoid hospitals, I do. They remind me of a rough time."

She took a deep breath and his injured hand in hers. Her gentle touch sent tingles racing down his spine. "Okay. We'll do it here."

"Do what here?"

"St.i.tch you up." She guided him down to sit on the closed toilet seat.

"You know how to do that?" he asked surprised.

"Yes." She took off her coat and flung it out the bathroom door. The boots followed, leaving her in yoga pants and a pale pink sweatshirt that slid off her shoulder and drove him crazy with l.u.s.t.

"But you're afraid of needles."

She knelt in front of him and turned to pull a handled tray of medical supplies out of the sink cabinet. Holy s.h.i.t. She was serious.

"I know. And to be honest, I've only done this on a banana."

He didn't know whether to be worried or intrigued by that. The fact that she'd even held a needle deserved some kudos. "Elaborate?"

"Coop's got this whole suture kit here because he's constantly banging himself up and rather than go to the doctor every time he needs a st.i.tch or two, our aunt, who's a plastic surgeon, taught him how to st.i.tch up a wound. It's crazy that he can fix himself up and be so in control of the needle. I think that's the only reason I could handle watching him do it." She tore open several sterilized pouches and lined them up on a clean towel. "One day he insisted on teaching me in case he hurt himself somewhere where he needed a.s.sistance. We used a banana to practice on."

"How'd that go?"

"I was freaked out at first, but then it went okay." Her hands shook, ever so slightly, telling him she was not okay right now.

With his good hand, he tucked a knuckle under her chin and lifted her face. Eyes gla.s.sy with emotion met his. She was scared, but determined. "I'll be fine with just a bandage, Honor."

He needed to get out of that bathroom and back into bed with her so the only thing he felt was her warm, soft skin. One night of mindless pleasure. One night to help her keep her promise and they could both move on.

"What if you're not? What if it gets infected and the infection moves into your bloodstream or something. I've seen enough of Coop's cuts to know that yours isn't superficial. I've seen..." She pressed her lips together and shut her eyes.

She'd seen her brother almost lose his life. "Sweetheart-"

"Please let me do this," she practically begged and Bryce realized this was about more than simply st.i.tching him up or facing her fear of needles. She needed this success, this win.

"I have the utmost confidence in you." He removed the gauze and gave her his finger. The bleeding had finally stopped.

Her soft, grateful gaze collided with his and he hoped she saw he meant what he said 100 percent. He trusted her to take care of him.

"This is a topical anesthetic cream." She used a Q-tip to wipe the ointment over and around the cut. "It doesn't work quite as well as an injection so you'll definitely feel me working, but it shouldn't be too painful."

Bryce leaned back and watched Honor work. She used enough anesthetic to numb his finger for a week, but he kept quiet, knowing how worried she was about causing him any discomfort. She continued to describe her actions and he got the feeling talking helped calm her nerves.

When the time came to actually insert the needle, her chest rose and fell and even though her hand shook, he knew once she got past the first poke, her determination would carry her the rest of the way with ease.

She continued to impress him. Engage him. Everything about her made him want more. But he had to ignore it. He'd fight the feelings she stirred no matter how hard that seemed at the moment because he had no plans to risk his heart again. He might like Honor more than he should, but he had nothing to give beyond making her feel good for the next few hours. They'd agreed to explore the attraction between them, but it ended when the sun came up.

"Bryce?" Something waved in front of his face. "h.e.l.lo?" Honor said, her hand moving back and forth.

He blinked back to the present. "Sorry. Yeah?"

She pushed him in the arm. "Oh my G.o.d. Do not scare me like that! I thought you went into shock or something. You're all done." She sat back on her haunches with a big, beautiful smile on her face and just like that his pulse careened out of control.

"Thank you." He didn't look at his finger. He only looked at her. Why couldn't he look away?

"You're welcome."

"Now it's time I show you my thanks." He scooped her up into his arms, ignoring protests that she needed to clean up first, and carried her back to bed. "Congratulations, Nurse Mitch.e.l.l. You've successfully pa.s.sed Suturing 101 and you know that means?"

Her giggles lit a flame inside him. "I have no idea." She scooted back on the bed at the same time she pulled her sweatshirt over her head. He loved how eager she was to get naked again. "You'd better fill me in." Joy and antic.i.p.ation were etched around the curve of her mouth and crinkles at the corners of her bottomless Honor blue eyes.

"I'm going to fill you all right." He stood at the edge of the bed and stripped. She pulled off the rest of her clothes. "Turn over," he instructed.

She stretched out onto her stomach, wiggled that fine a.s.s of hers, and gazed up at him over her shoulder. Beautiful didn't begin to describe every slope and curve of her delectable body. His blood heated, every muscle tightened.

He started at her heel and worked his way up the back of her calf to her knee with openmouthed kisses. "You're so soft," he whispered. Goose b.u.mps spread over her flesh. "And you smell amazing." He spread her legs and licked up her inner thigh, breathing her in.

"Mmm..." she said, lifting her hips off the bed.

"Not so fast, sweetheart." His fingers splayed over her bottom and lower back, up her smooth sides. He followed the trail with his lips and tongue. She writhed and moaned, reached behind her to touch him.

When his body covered hers, his mouth at her nape, he said in a low voice, "It means you've earned the Bryce Special."

She laughed as if that were the funniest thing she'd ever heard. The bed shook with her amus.e.m.e.nt. "That's..." she let out a breath, "that's the best line of B.S. I've ever heard." She buried her face in the sheets to m.u.f.fle her continued chuckles.

Yeah, he'd walked right into that one. "You think you're funny, huh?"

"I think you're funny," she sputtered.

Good thing she couldn't see the smile on his face. It would ruin his next move. He wrapped an arm around her middle and lifted her onto her knees. His erection pressed against the sweet spot between her legs. She stopped laughing.

"Remember what I whispered in your ear earlier?"

"Yes."

"It's gonna be harder now. Dirtier."

"That's good." She wiggled her behind, arched her back. "Because I want everything you've got. I want you so deep that I lose my mind."

He groaned. "Count on it."

After he'd made her lose her mind several times and the rain had stopped pounding the windows, Honor had challenged him to a game of Scrabble. One game had turned into best two out of three when she lost the first one. She kicked his a.s.s on the next two, but he didn't care, the words they'd created and argued about had fueled another round of the hottest s.e.x of his life.