Free Bargain in Bronze by Natalie Anderson Page A

breathed in deeply again. His muscles tautened as he looked, dark heat flaring in his eyes, color slashing across his cheekbones as he ground deeper into her with those delicious movements. She understood the pleasure he found in having her spread before him—beneath him—accepting his invasion. She reveled in it too, feeling sexy, desirable, riding the heat, the sweat, the energy. They’d left this world and gone to another of their own—a higher, hotter, paradise.
    His hard plank of a body worked into hers, yet he was so warm and fluid in his movements and so tender in his smile. It was slow, addictive torture and she groaned as the tension caught her again, winding her tighter, ever tighter.
    His biceps bunched as he braced above her. Their rhythm increased. He was all she could see. There was nothing else in her head but him, the way he looked right now, the way he felt .
    Passion built. She shivered as the fever took hold, faltered as small slivers of ecstasy surged through her…tiny precursors to her next release. She called out in increasingly quick, breathy moans, closing her eyes as the intensity became too much. Her body clamped and locked, seeking the final hit that would send her over the edge.
    He moved to meet her moaned demands—thrusting faster. Her eyes snapped open—wide—as she watched his muscles pump as he plunged through the fierce, rigid hold of her body. The friction so intense, so pleasurable, so damn good. His face locked in the grip of determination, of fire, a growl escaping through gritted teeth. But she smiled as the sensations conquered her consciousness. Her eyes flicked shut again as she sank into ecstasy. Her moan became a shout as sheer, sharp pleasure surged in spasm after spasm, blissful contractions shivering outwards from her core. In the height of the storm his fingers dug into her hips as he pushed her closer still, grinding into her with fast, wild force. His abs slammed against her stomach, his chest crushed hers as he dropped from his dominant position and simply embraced her as a deep moan was wrenched from him.
    She looped her arms around him, her hands smoothing his sweat-slicked back. She held him, uncaring of how hot she was, how she could hardly breathe, could hardly hear for his rapid, rough panting in her ear. Every so often she’d shiver again—her body locked in aftershocks. Until the tension slowly ebbed and that languorous warmth slid along her veins.
    “So,” she said breathlessly, trying to find a way back down to earth. “That wasn’t sustained?”
    His laugh was combined with a pained groan. “Must have been your performance enhancing muesli.”

Chapter Eight
    Jack stared out the bakery window as he waited, still in a daze ten hours after she’d left his bed. Despite their intimate marathon, he’d hardly slept. Instead he’d wound his arms around her and held her until she’d woken—too early. She’d quickly kissed him and thanked him for a lovely night and left. What an idiot he’d been to make his move on a weeknight when she had to be at her local council copywriting job the next morning. He laughed— stupid —even if it had been the weekend, she’d be up early wanting to resurrect her cereal business.
    But it was the cereal that was his way back in.
    He sat at the counter when she turned up—not touching her, simply getting on with his work. She smiled, clearly determined not to let any awkwardness build between them. She thought she could be like a pal now? Like a buddy? He didn’t think so. But he said nothing. He knew the chemistry wasn’t anywhere near burned out—hell, with her flushed cheeks and her tight nipples and her restlessness, it was obvious.
    So he sat like he had the other nights and got on with his work. To his immense satisfaction every time he glanced up he caught her looking at him. So he stood and got himself some water from the fridge. Turning back he nabbed her snatching a look at his butt. Yeah, he had a number