Chapter Sixteen

 

One thing led to another. Ash meant to speak of history and the fine oaken carving in his wee flat, he truly did. But somewhere between the proud pirate queen’s rousting the British from their siege at Rockfleet in 1574, and her capture by Sir Richard Bingham a few years later, when England, with its land grabbing appetite, outlawed the Irish chieftains, Ash lost what was left of his heart to the lioness at his side.

They’d settled on his couch—not on his bed, mind you, but on his couch as was more proper. Well, at least, more proper than taking her straightway to his bed. The story of the Irish Queen’s plundering ways sparked a fire deep in Colby’s eyes. When the amber in her irises turned to molten copper, and the black of her pupils swallowed the copper, he couldn’t catch his breath, nor his balance. With all of his heart and every last breath of his searching, wishing Irish heart, Ash fell.

Down he went, lock, stock, and barrel into the woman behind all his dreams.

She wrapped her arms around his head like two steel bands he didn’t plan to break even as he maneuvered her head to what had to be the loneliest couch cushion in the world. Saints be praised, it had finally served its intended purpose.

He cupped her sweet face between his big rugged palms, his body on fire as he took the time to control himself and to peer into her eyes. It wasn’t copper he saw there, but the sultry come-on of the woman he’d lost his heart to years ago.

Her chin tilted up in a gesture of defiance. Maybe a dare?

Caught like she was in his callused hands, he meant to go slow, but her skin felt as soft as a lamb’s and as smooth as satin. Reverently, he lowered his mouth to hers, careful to not frighten her off. Just as careful not to break eye contact. He hadn’t the experience of other men, not with women. With whiskey and rum, with smokes and a quick limerick, yes, but never with a woman. Blame that on his mum.

He dipped his lips to Colby’s, just for a taste. One incredibly succulent taste of…

Ah. Heaven. ’Tis heaven I’m in.

The contact took a life of its own, demanding more. Lighting a flash fire that roared to life under his skin and fought for control of the desire tumbling through his veins. He had no idea how one moment his hands were on her face, the next roving over her shirt, wanting to tear it away, to lay her as bare as his carved Irish queen.

Colby shifted her hips, arching up against and bumping his aching cock, but he dared not break contact with her mouth, not and forgo the moist warm tongue-lashing she was giving him. Well, blimey. So this is what Colby likes. A steady assault. I can do that.

He slid one hand to her cheek, then to the hollow of her neck, hoping she’d meant that bump. Easy enough for a woman in jeans to have done, but if she really wanted this with him, she’d have to lose those clothes of hers on her own. He would nah take what she would not offer.

The minx bit down on his lower lip, enough to amp up his courage and take the chance. The fire in his belly burned as hot as ever. Roses, wind, and gunpowder, that’s what he smelled on her, and right now, it was the sweetest ambrosia. A fireball streaked up his spine and he bowed his body into the cradle of her womanly hips, needing release and her forgiveness, and—dare he think it?—her love?

Was it in any way possible for the two of them? Mother Mary and Joseph, I hope so.

One warm womanly hand drifted from his shoulder to his ribs, then to his ticklish hip. He flinched, not from pain, but that she’d remembered that about him. She gripped harder, her nails digging into his skin.

“I can’t do this,” she whispered into his mouth.

Don’t say it, his heart cried out even as he thrust against her tongue as vigorously as he could to change her mind. Please give me a chance to prove meself. I am man enough for you. I know I am. Give me—give us—a go.

She turned her head, smearing his kiss across her cheek. “Ash. Get off. Let me up.” Her palm was on his chest again. Like last time. They’d never gotten this far. So close. Shite. Here we go again.

He sat back on this haunches, his manhood deflating in front of her. Let her look. Once again, she’d brought him low. Why not let her see him at his worst? He didn’t try to hide the shrinking flashlight in his pants. What was the use?

The second she sat up, she leaned forward, her blonde hair brushing over his forearms and… Whoosh! Her t-shirt flew off and over her pretty head, and he sprang back to attention. Did he stand a prayer’s chance in hell of making love to this woman? Here? Tonight?

Her palms hit his chest again, her fingers splayed wide. She cocked her head with a come hither sparkle in her maple syrup eyes. “As I was saying, I can’t make love to you this way, Ash. Give a girl a break. Help me out of these jeans.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was no use fighting the chemistry between them. Colby tossed every last logical argument why this would never work to the street. She’d needed Ash in her life the day she’d left Boston in her rearview, and she needed him now.

He’d changed, and that change was rough and callused and steadily working its way up her bare thighs now that her pants were—somewhere out there. Strong fingers carved over her hips and ribs, mapping her flesh, bringing her to life the same as he’d done with that log-turned-pirate-ess in his guest room. Wherever his fingers trailed, molten lava trickled beneath her skin, scorching her in its wake.

As those same bold fingers slid under the elastic of her silk panties, he mashed his mouth to hers, forming a suction that gave her a heady rush of I’ve-gotta-have-this-man-inside-me. Now!

Breathing each other’s air, she suckled at his tongue and lips, on fire for the first time in a sweaty exercise that didn’t involve balls or guns. At least not soccer balls.

He’d long since tossed his shirt and lost his pants. Ash’s body was rough and rugged, the coarse hairs on his chest brushing over her sensitive nipples, peaking them into wanton beggars that waited impatiently for his fingers. He seemed intent on pouring his heart into his kisses, and she let him. Stubble sanded her chin and lips, but this was what she’d wanted from that first kiss that she hadn’t gotten, a roiling volcano primed to erupt at her touch.

Groaning, he licked her lips before his open mouth slathered warm desire over her chin. He bumped her head up with his nose to make room for a warm, wet kiss to her throat. A woman can dream, and in those dark nights in the Mideast and South America, on deployments and risky missions, this was the man she’d dreamed of. Every single time.

His skillful adoration of her body sent shivers coursing over her belly at the prospect of what he had in store for her. At last his hand drifted to her breast, thank God! She arched her back, pushing one throbbing mound into his palm. A manly chuckle sounded, a chuckle of satisfaction. “Tell me what you want,” he breathed into the sweaty flesh between her breasts as he cupped both.

“All of you,” she grated, her voice as wanton as she’d never heard it before. With that urgent command, a spark lit the hidden det cord that led to her core. A pool of slick moisture unleashed between her legs.

“‘Tis about time,” he said, just as his lips drew her peaked nipple into his fiery mouth.

Ahh, yes! She shoved herself into him and in return, he suckled, pulling fire through her quivering body, already awash in scorching flames. Her core wept for him, but that mouth. Those scraping teeth. The pleasant abrasion of his whiskered chin against her tenderest skin was enough to make her…

“I’m coming,” she ground out, her body soaring to heights she’d never imagined or known. “Ash,” she gasped. “Ash!”

What. A. Rrrrrrrrrush!

Fireworks erupted through her like bottle rockets gone wild. Stars! Okay, yes, an unexpected rainbow! Probably had a pot of gold at the end of it. She sucked in a breath even as she bit her lip at the height he’d pushed her to. Flying. She was flying and his fingers and lips were the high-octane fueling her ride into…

Heaven! Streaks of sizzling pleasure shivered over her skin and in her veins like champagne bubbles. She shuddered as her body clamped onto the hollow space he was meant to fill. Instinctively, her legs wrapped around him in a desperate crush of needing. He wanted a pirate? How about a starved-for-love Army Ranger?

With a grunt of breathless domination, she bucked him off and flipped him onto his back. “Your turn.”