Free ''I Do''...Take Two! by Merline Lovelace Page B

romantic Italian interlude she’d always dreamed of. He’d constructed contingency plans for every possible variation, from exploring the hustle and history of Rome to roaming sun-kissed Tuscan vineyards to braving Naples’s teeming streets and feasting on the city’s famous margherita pizza. Each contingency included the admittedly tenuous hope that they would make slow, delicious love every night they were together.
    Slow and delicious didn’t so much as pop into his head as he came out of his chair. All he could think of, all he could focus on, was his near-naked wife. The sheen of damp flesh above and below her towel sent his self-control into a frantic free fall. Her wet hair made him hurt with the need to bury his fists and his face in the tangled, silky mass. He was across the room in two strides. Had her backed against the wall in two more.
    â€œI don’t know what size sample you had in mind,” he got out in a low growl, “but I suggest we start here.”
    His mouth covered hers, hard and hungry. When he moved to her throat and nipped at the taut cords, his blood was hammering like a pile driver. He inhaled the scent clinging to her wet skin while he feasted on her.
    â€œThen we’ll work down to here...”
    He tugged the towel free, let it drop in a soggy pile at their feet. Cupping her breast, he teased the nipple with his thumb until it stiffened, then dipped to take the dusky peak in his mouth.
    â€œOh, Travis.” Kate’s spine arched. Her fingers dug into his shoulders. “It’s been so long.”
    He grunted a fervent agreement and shifted his attention to her other breast. Head back, neck arched, she let him take his fill until her skin flushed and her breath came in short pants. Wedging an elbow against his chest, she pushed him back a few inches. His heart damned near stopped until she gasped out an urgent demand.
    â€œYou need...to get out...of those clothes.”
    He didn’t make it all the way to naked. Her feverish hands shoved down his jeans and shorts, but he barely got one leg free before she wrapped a fist around his already rampant sex. Her fingers were hot, tight, eager. His were every bit as greedy, parting her thighs, exploring her slick folds, matching her stroke for stroke until her brown eyes went wild and stormy.
    â€œNow, Trav. Now!”
    He didn’t need any further urging. Cupping her bottom, he raised her a few inches, bent a knee and positioned himself. Some last shred of sanity screamed at him to ease in. Slowly. Slowly. Wait for her to open. Take him in. Bring him home.
    Every muscle in his body quivered, every tendon strained. Then she hooked a calf around his thigh and ground her hips down on his. Somehow he managed to hang on long enough to pull out, thrust in. Then he shot her into the stratosphere with him.
    * * *
    Kate wasn’t sure what pierced her haze of sensual delight. Her first guess was the scratchy itch of textured plaster against her butt. Then again, it might have been the bony hips pinning hers to the wall or the hard chest mashing her breasts. One thing about Travis Westbrook, she thought ruefully as the last waves of pleasure dissipated. There wasn’t an ounce of soft or cushiony anywhere on the man.
    He’d dropped his forehead to hers. Another pressure point. She tried to adjust by angling her head and body a few degrees. The wiggle only dug his hips deeper into hers. He was still inside her, she realized belatedly, although how long that condition would last was questionable.
    â€œTravis.”
    â€œUnnngh.”
    â€œI’m going to have permanent marks on my back and butt.”
    His head lifted. “Huh?”
    â€œMy butt. My back. The wall.”
    â€œOh.” His hazel eyes went from semidazed to almost clear. “Right.”
    He eased away a few inches, taking her with him, and hefted her higher while somehow managing to kick free of the jeans still tangled