Part 8 (1/2)

Donovan's b.r.e.a.s.t.s were full, aching, and she cupped them, angling her head so she could watch this beautiful man kiss her. Tease her.

”Jesus, Jack,” she whispered hoa.r.s.ely. It had been so long since she'd had an o.r.g.a.s.m by anyone's hand other than her own.

Jack glanced up and her throat closed so tightly that she was afraid she'd choke. Without thinking, her hands slid to his face, and she traced his gorgeous mouth. ”You're so beautiful,” she whispered.

”You still have my tattoo.”

Donovan swallowed, blinking rapidly and praying that the tears poking the edges of her eyes would not fall. They couldn't fall. Not now. She said nothing because she was pretty sure that if she attempted to speak she'd fall apart.

The tattoo.

They'd each gotten one, a small Celtic symbol with each other's first initial. She held her breath as his thumb rubbed over the intricate 'J'. Located beneath her bikini line, it had only been meant for his eyes. She had to wonder, did he still have her mark?

His eyes flattened, and his fingers dug into her hips. ”Open your legs,” he ordered.

The rain slid down his chiseled features and her fingers sank into his wet hair. Donovan was trembling in antic.i.p.ation as she slid her feet along the wet dock.

”Don't let me fall,” she whimpered.

”I've got you.”

Those three words nearly undid her.

”Jack,” she whispered, suddenly very afraid that she was making the biggest mistake of her life. But he wasn't listening and any chance she had to make an escape was lost when he bent forward and slid his tongue inside her.

”You taste just like I remember,” he growled against her. ”So d.a.m.n sweet.”

She barely held on as Jack licked and sucked and stroked her into a jumbling mess of red-hot need. His large hands cupped her a.s.s as his lips and tongue continued to tease. Her legs were jelly, her body nearly convulsing as that exquisite pressure flared to life and burned its way up from deep inside her.

Whimpering, she threw her head back, still clutching his hair as she held on for dear life.

”Come for me, Donnie.” His voice was rough. So d.a.m.n intimate. ”Donnie,” he said hoa.r.s.ely, a finger inserted deep inside her, curled up at the just the right angle. ”Now, babe.”

She shattered against him, her o.r.g.a.s.m ripping through her body in a blast of pleasure that left her breathless.

”Oh, Jack,” she whispered. It wasn't enough. It wasn't nearly enough. All thought fled. There was nothing but Jack. Nothing but the need to have him inside her. It was like a fever rolling through her body, and she frantically began tugging on his s.h.i.+rt.

”Jack,” she managed to say, swaying unsteadily on her feet as he scooped up the edge of his T-s.h.i.+rt and pulled it over his head. Her fingers were at his zipper, her body leaning into his because if not she would have fallen off the dock.

The rain continued to fall as she pulled his shorts down and before she could process the sight of his naked beauty, Jack had her on her back, one leg pulled up around his waist as he positioned himself between her legs.

For a moment he stared down into her eyes, rain cascading down his face onto hers. His chest heaved and the muscles along his neck were corded tight.

His mouth slid over a nipple, and she cried out as a surge of heat infused her body, winding her up so tight it was painful. Never had she been this aroused. This much in need to connect to a man.

To Jack.

Only, Jack, she thought.

”Please,” she whispered.

For one second their eyes connected, and she saw the heat and desire and raw need that she felt, reflected in him. That fear she'd felt earlier hit her hard in the chest and for one crazy moment, the responsible side of her began to scream.

What the h.e.l.l are you doing?

This won't end well!

But then his mouth was on hers, and he slid inside her, the long length of his c.o.c.k going as deep as he could.

”Christ,” he muttered hoa.r.s.ely. ”You feel so f.u.c.king good.”

There was no long drawn out loving. No, gentle caresses as Jack gazed lovingly into her eyes. There was only the raw, animalistic need that the both of them couldn't deny.

She let Jack set the tempo, his thrusts fast and hard with a need that she understood. She kissed him with all the pa.s.sion and sorrow inside her. She met him thrust for thrust, her eyes not leaving him, because she knew she needed to memorize every detail.

She hadn't done that the last time, because it wasn't often that a person knew when a 'last time' was actually happening.

It wasn't long before they both came, and for Donovan, the release was unlike any she'd ever had. It was full bodied and heart pounding. Pa.s.sionate and fierce. It was coming home and knowing that she had to leave again, because he could never belong to her. She loved this man too much and she would do whatever it took to protect him.

It was all of those things and so much more, and it was the so much more that left her broken.

When Jack shuddered into her that last time and rolled onto his back so that she was able to collapse on top of him, Donovan turned her head to the side. She let the rain slide over her, the cool water mingling with her tears.

She felt his heart thudding like crazy beneath her. Heard his ragged breaths as his hands slid up to her waist. She inhaled his scent and felt an ache deep inside.

Then Donovan closed her eyes and pretended that Jack Simon was hers-that the future she'd always wanted was in fact real. That the man she loved, loved her back and that Cooper Simon and Derek McKenzie didn't exist.

She drifted away in a sea of illusion.

Stupid and girlish maybe, but for the moment, it was all she had.

Chapter Eleven.

Jack woke up slowly, eyes fluttering as he stretched. The sun was beating through the windows, and he groaned, rolling back onto his stomach with a grimace. Jesus, why hadn't he closed the blinds last night?

Groaning he laid there for a few moments, caught in that half asleep in-between place that felt like heaven. A bird cried out, the sound echoing, and in the distance, he heard a rush of waves buffeting the beach.

Voices on the wind.

A motorboat accelerating.

Motorboat?

Jack's eyes flew open. He turned to the side. Saw the empty pillow. A strand of blond hair. His nostrils flared as he inhaled sharply and yanked his head back the other way.