Summer's Last Breath

Part 36

"We're spending the weekend here?" I couldn't contain my excitement as the departing headlights of the Bronco flashed across the beach house. My hand was tucked in Jamie's big one and I laid my head against his shoulder.

Finally, we were alone.

Jeb had acted as our chauffeur and my senses had been so overwhelmed with Jamie's presence while I sat with him in the backseat of the Bronco, I hadn't been paying much attention to where we were going. It had been hard to concentrate on anything with Jamie's rich smell filling my nose and the feel of his thumb as it had stroked the pad of my hand, evoking a response in me that had me squirming in the seat. He'd said he couldn't wait to get me out of this dress. Well, I couldn't wait either, and my free hand roamed over the hardness of his thigh under his pants, finding a passage underneath his shirt to run my fingers over the indents of his abdomen. Jamie had sucked in a breath and sat unmoving except for the continual caress of his thumb and the tense set of his muscles as I'd all but crawled onto his lap.

So when Jeb had pulled into the driveway of the beach house, I'd been dazed, my head buzzing—high on Jamie.

The coastline was lined with beautiful homes; mansions looming ostentatiously over quaint beach cottages. Everyone had their favorites—their dream homes—and we stood on the threshold of mine. Modest in size, it had the look and feel of an exotic, faraway place like India or Morocco with its open-aired porches and long flowing drapes that billowed in the wind. A fire blazed in the pit on the over-sized, wrap-around porch and another burned in the fireplace in the living room. Candles had been lit and placed strategically around the room, creating an intimately romantic atmosphere. Flowers scented the air and white petals were strewn across the bamboo floors like a path into an enchanted world.

Jamie whisked me off my feet and carried me through the door.

"This is amazing," I whispered breathlessly. "How did you manage this?"

"I know people," he said as he followed the trail of flower petals into the master bedroom. It had its own private balcony behind a wall of soaring windows, and the Gulf gleamed under the array of stars, the roll of the surf faint beyond the stretch of white sand. Jamie set me down, his hand coasting over my shoulders and down my back.

"This is beautiful." And it was, more than I had hoped for.

"Not as beautiful as you," he said, pulling me around to face him and pressing his lips to mine. My arms circled his neck, my fingers sliding through his hair and I melted into him.

"Do you want something to eat? To drink?"

I almost laughed. I only wanted him.

"No," I said and started in on the buttons of his shirt. He watched my fingers work while I watched his face, an ache building in my chest, my feelings for him so strong I was afraid there was no way my body could contain them. My heart was so full of thunderous anticipation I was sure he heard it. He had to feel it.

I pushed the shirt over his shoulders, my fingers stroking his rounded deltoids and curling around his biceps as the shirt fell to the floor. He was the most beautiful man I'd ever seen and he was all mine.

"How do I do this?" His eyes raced over my body, his hands eager to rid me of my dress.

I reached for the hem of the dress and his hands joined mine in pulling it over my head. It puddled on the floor beside his shirt, leaving me in a white lace bra and matching thong. He stepped back slowly, the rise and fall of his chest pronounced as he took me in with a thorough sweep of his eyes. His heated gaze set a fire under my skin everywhere it touched. I thought he might be shaking, and after I reached behind my back and unclasped my bra, I knew he was.

"Erin," his voice was needy and strained and the hand that reached for me trembled. He threaded his finger under the thin strip of lace arching over my hip. He tugged once and the fabric tore at the seam and the thong fell to the floor. "I didn't mean to do that." He laughed huskily. "Glad I did though."

"Your pants," I said, desperate to see all of him.

"What?" He shook his head as though his brain were trapped in a fog.

"Take them off."

He divested them quickly along with his boxers, and he was standing in front of me wearing only the pearl at his neck and my whole body ached with the need to touch him. I stepped forward and pressed against him because for some reason he seemed timid and shy, and that was so unlike Jamie. I trailed a line of open-mouth kisses over his chest. My hands slid around his hips and cupped over the curve of his ass, fitting him closer. "This is perfect." Him. His ass. This day. Our life.

"Yeah," he said. "Perfect."

And then we were kissing and our hands were everywhere until my knees threatened to buckle. I clung to his arms for support. He lifted his mouth and I chased it, nipping at his bottom lip. I never wanted him to stop kissing me.

"I can't believe you're mine," he said, pressing his mouth to my forehead, kissing the end of my nose. "Say you'll be mine forever."

"Forever," I said and any coherent thoughts were lost on his tongue. Cradling my back with one arm, he guided me to the bed. I fell back, pulling him with me, greedy to feel him moving over me and in me. It had been a month since we'd been together and I'd missed his closeness. His hands skimmed up my arms and he lay them over my head, our fingers entwining.

I opened for him. He sank into me.

"Jamie." I strained for closer. I strained for more. We were as close as two people could get, and it still wasn't enough. A wedding night couldn't be more perfect than this. There was no shyness or pain or embarrassment, only a pleasure that reached soul-deep.

Jamie stilled over me, his eyes intent on my face." I hope those are happy tears."

I felt my face heat. I hadn't even known I was crying.

When I assured him they were, he started moving again, a slow sensual rhythm that carried me away to a place so good and right that I thought I might never find earth again.