Jill Shalvis - Instant Gratification

She heard his low laugh, then felt him step into her. “Bossy,” he whispered. “Pissy, stubborn as hell, and…”

“And what? Annoying?”

“Well…”

“Always right?”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

She snorted out an unexpected laugh and opened her eyes, catching a new light as it came into his, more than simple affection, more than casual fun. “Stone.”

“You’re beautiful, Emma.” He slid a hand around the back of her neck, stroking her jaw with his thumb. “Made all the more so because you don’t even know it.”

Things were happening inside her-besides just the physical response of his touch. She was softening, unveiling the real Emma, without her protective walls. It brought an edge to her arousal, and an odd sort of panic. “I don’t need pretty words.”

“No? Maybe I do.” A callused fingertip ran over her cheek, skimmed her ear.

She shivered. Pretty words, amazing touch…she was a goner. “Seriously, Stone.”

He was looking at her as if she was so important. And also as if he was amused. “I’m afraid of needles, Emma, which is ridiculous enough, but look at you. You’re afraid of niceness.”

“Am not.”

He let her have the lie, moving onto a devastatingly tender, gentle sexiness she had no defense against. “You have the most amazing eyes,” he whispered.

Oh, God.

“Yeah, and a smile that always puts one on my mouth as well, and a way of looking at me that weeds through all the bullshit and sees the real me. You make me laugh, you make me think. You turn me on, Emma, in every way.” As proven when he settled his hands on her hips and pulled her into him so that she could feel him, fully aroused. “You are truly the most beautiful woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of kissing.” He kissed her then, and God his mouth. He made a sound deep in his throat and turned deeper into the kiss.

He had a way of making her feel like there was nothing but her, but them, and by the time he pulled back slightly, she wasn’t worried about bugs, but how fast she could get her clothes off.

Which was bad. Very, very bad. Her knees were liquid, her body revved for action.

“Your eyes are closed, what’s next?” he asked.

“Be patient.”

“And…”

“Don’t over-think it. Go with your instincts,” she repeated obediently. “But my instincts…”

“What are they telling you?”

To strip naked. “Nothing.”

“Liar,” he chided gently, looking at her from sexy, heavy-lidded eyes, his mouth still wet from hers, his hands-

God, his hands.

They were spread wide on her ribs, his fingertips almost brushing the undersides of her breasts.

“I blame the kissing,” she decided, her voice a little shaky.

“For…?”

“For me losing my head. Look, you need to back way up.”

He merely smiled and pulled her closer in, and somehow her brain got mixed signals from her body and went with the flow, which wasn’t good. Not good at all. She was going to miss him, miss him so damn much, and that thought wasn’t comforting. She’d miss his humor, his voice, how he made her laugh, the way he looked at her, everything. “Stone.”

“Emma,” he said sweetly.

As if he was sweet! “Okay.” She fisted her hands in his hair. “You know what? Fine. Have it your way. I’m going with my instincts.”

“I like the sound of that. What are they saying?”

“They’re saying we should have sex right here, right now.” She smacked a hand to his chest when his eyes flashed with triumph. “But you should know, we are not cuddling afterwards. Not this time. Not-” She’d been about to say ever, because she was leaving, and cuddling with him messed with her head big time, but he smiled soberly, whispered, “Shh,” and kissed her again.

Ah, yeah, Stone thought. This. This is what he’d wanted, Emma melting in his arms, her tongue down his throat. Leaning back against the rock, he pulled her with him.

“You should know,” she murmured against his mouth, hands still fisted in his hair, wrapped around him like a pretzel. “This is just instincts talking. Not my heart.”

“Okay,” he said, hoping like hell that was just her trying to convince herself.

Behind them, the thick growth of pines protected them from the breeze. In front was nothing but a staggering view of Lake Tahoe and a three hundred and sixty degree view of majestic, rugged, isolated peaks.

A fact that Stone was most grateful for, especially the isolated part. He nudged Emma down onto their rock alcove, stroked a strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear and pulled her neatly tucked in shirt from her pants.

“Really?” She blinked up at him, clearly surprised. “So you believe me? That this is just sex?”

“Hell, no.” He shook his head with a low laugh. “It’s not even close. But I didn’t want to argue with you until I got you naked again.”

She choked out a laugh. “Stone.”

“Now see, I know that tone. It says that if I let you finish that sentence, we’re not going to get naked.” He gently kissed one corner of her mouth as he unbuttoned her top, then the other corner as he slid it off her shoulder.

She cupped his face between her hands until he looked into her eyes. “You know that I’m as good as gone. Tell me you know that.”

“Today?”

“No.”

“Then shh.”

In response, she nipped his lower lip with her teeth, and when he hissed out a pained breath, she soothed the ache by sucking it into her mouth, running her hot tongue over it as she shoved up his shirt.

He was goners. He slid his hands down the back of her pants, loving how she felt in his hands, loving how when he slid his fingers even lower, he found her hot and wet, for him. “Just sex, my ass,” he murmured in her ear.

“Speak for yourself,” she panted, tugging his shirt over his head.

Then she stopped his heart when she spread her legs a little to give him more access.

“It has to be just sex, because…” She stopped to moan as he stroked his thumb over her. “Because I’m leaving in two days. That’s all we have.”

With a sigh, he pulled his hands free of her and met her gaze, somehow managing to speak evenly. “So you’re not even so much as looking back?”

It was a tricky question, one that could have stopped the proceedings cold, but it didn’t. At least not her proceedings. She pressed her mouth to a pec and just breathed him in for a moment. “I’ll look back plenty.” She ran her hand up his abs. “You should know, I’m planning on taking something with me. A piece of you.”

“What?”

“Yeah.” She ran her mouth over his chest, a soft, light, erotic caress. “Your spirit. Your sense of adventure. Your loyalty.”

Unbearably touched, he slid his hands into her hair and lifted her face to his. “Emma.”

“You give yourself, Stone, to everyone you meet. Hell, you’d give a perfect stranger the shirt off your back. I’ve seen you do it.”

“You give yourself, too.”

“No. No, I don’t. My time, yeah, but that’s my job. Outside the hospital…” Her mouth glided over one of his nipples, and he quivered. “Outside the hospital,” she whispered against his flesh. “I’m closed off. I don’t give myself to my stepfather, never have. I don’t give myself to Spencer, much as I say I do. I don’t give myself to my friends. And I didn’t give myself to you.” She lifted her head. “Until it was almost too late.”

He could scarcely breathe. “What changed?”

“You. You offering your heart and soul to everything you do. It changed me. You changed me.”

He stared at her, heart pounding as he realized the truth in that. He’d given her his heart. His soul. He opened his mouth to tell her that, but she kissed him, long and deep and warm, and he lost himself in her. Still goners, he let her unzip his jeans while his hands slid up her belly to her breasts, which knocked a gasp out of her, and a groan from him.

She was warm and full and perfect.

Beneath his palms, her nipples were already hard, and he rasped his thumbs over them, feeling them pucker even more. Not enough. He flicked open her bra and tugged the straps down her arms, sucking in a breath at the sight of her. Lowering his head, splaying his hands on her bare back to pull her even closer, and opened his mouth on her.

“If I get bit by a mosquito,” she gasped, “I’m coming after you.”

“Come after me.”

She huffed out a laugh as she tugged open his pants. Making herself at home inside of them, she wrapped her fingers around him, stroking…squealing-which was very ego-boosting, until he realized the squeal was for the bee that buzzed by them.

“Did you bring bug spray?”

“You’ll be okay,” he promised.

“How do you know?”

He rasped his thumbs over her bared nipples. “I’ll keep you covered.”

“I’m pretty uncovered, Stone.”

He spread out his shirt on the rock behind him, lay her on it, and then towered over her, his gaze sweeping down the length of her gorgeous body as he pulled a condom from his pocket.

“Always prepared,” she murmured. “Like a Boy Scout.”

“Not quite.” He slid down her body, spreading open-mouthed kisses as he went, loving the taste of her, the scent of her, the way she arched and writhed beneath his touch. He could feel her heart pounding in excitement, in arousal and need, and his own matched it, beating in tune to hers.

Just sex? Hell, no.

But he could admit he understood why she wanted to believe it. That she was leaving certainly played into it some, though actually that worked in her favor.

It gave her permission to try to keep her heart out of this.

Good luck, he thought, because his heart hadn’t had any such luck at all. He knew it. He accepted it.

Just as he accepted that this scared the living shit right out of her. This connection, this bond.

She didn’t do connections or bonds, at least not effectively. It wasn’t all her fault. She hadn’t had the best of luck keeping people in her life. They didn’t tend to stick.

But he did. He was good at it, too. Good at a couple of things, he thought, kissing her belly, her ribs as she inhaled sharply, going tense beneath him, quivering with anticipation. Beneath his mouth, her skin was heating up, flushing with arousal. His fingers wrapped around her ankle, bending her knee, placing her foot on the rock so that she was open for him.

Oh, yeah. She wanted him. He let his thumb glide over her creamy heat and she shivered.

“Such a bad idea,” she murmured, even as she rocked up to meet his touch.

“Bad is relative.”

“Yes, but I’m here to learn to be laid-back and chill.” She came up on her elbow and jabbed a pointy finger toward him. “All you ever do is rev me up.”

“Sometimes, you have to rev up first.”

“You just made that up.”

“Nope.”

“Seriously, you just pulled that right out of your ass.”

He laughed and shook his head. “Pay attention. The instructions. You have to repeat them to make them stick. Do you remember them?”

“I’m not an idiot.”

“Then close your eyes.”

She was looking up at him with a mix of heat and irritation and affection. She hadn’t looked away, not once, and that was so damn attractive. She was a woman who wasn’t coy, a woman who might take a hell of a long time-weeks, thank you very much-to decide to give him a shot, but once she made up her mind, she was on board. Need and yearning and lust swirled in his gut at that, and then she smiled at him and stopped his heart.

Stopped it on a dime. “Emma.”

She sighed, rolled her eyes, and then obediently closed them, her face still tilted up to his in a trusting manner that reminded him that this was about far more than hormones and lust. “You are so damn beautiful,” he murmured, taking in her creamy skin, her mouth, including that full bottom lip he wanted to nibble on for his next meal. “What comes next?”

“Be patient.”

“Yeah.” Leaning in, he kissed her temple, her jaw. Brushing the tip of his nose along her cheek, he kissed the sweet spot beneath her ear, and absorbing her shiver, gently sank his teeth into her earlobe.

She drew in a quick breath, and shivered again as her fingers closed around his biceps. “Stone…”

Cupping her face, he kissed her. Kissed her until he couldn’t have come up with his own name if his life depended on it.

She opened her sleep, sexy eyes. “Go with my instincts,” she whispered.

It took him a moment to realize she was quoting the third rule. “Yeah.” His voice was husky and a little thick. He didn’t know exactly what her instincts would be, but he sincerely hoped it didn’t include pulling her clothes back on.

She surprised and shocked him by pulling him down on top of her, rolling so that he was lying flat on his back on the rock and she was straddling him. Wrapping her fingers around him she lifted her hips. Then, slowly-so slowly she almost killed him-she sank over the top of him, threatening to blow his mind and his wad as he entered her, and he gripped her hips in desperation when she rocked against him. “Wait,” he gasped. God. “Don’t move.” He was a fraction of a second from coming. “Christ, Em, don’t move or I’ll-”