His bicep flexed as he slid his hand up and down his shaft faster. He was right. There was no shame in them spending this moment together. They were both consenting adults, and he wasn’t making her feel weird about this, so why should she? Plus, watching him do this was a huge turn-on. Maybe it was the sexiest thing she’d ever been a part of, and she didn’t want to waste precious seconds of it on shame.
Blaire gripped his arm next to her face and rocked her head back as she matched his pace. There was something so intimate about doing this with Gentry, completely vulnerable, eyes locked on each other’s, breath racing, connected in ways she didn’t understand but didn’t want to question right now.
“Fuck,” he huffed out, pressing his forehead against hers. “I want to be inside of you so bad right now.”
Okay. She shoved one side of her pants down, but he gripped her wrist and stopped her. “Don’t, or I won’t be able to stop myself. We can’t do that. I’m not even supposed to kiss you.”
“Wait, what?” she asked, trying to clear the fog from her mind. Not allowed to kiss her?
He grunted and shoved her shirt upward, exposing her breasts, and now the fog was back in her head but thicker.
“Watch,” he growled out.
Blaire looked down in time to see him push into his hand, hips bucking and twitching, as creamy warmth streamed from the head of his cock and painted her stomach. He reared back and pushed into his fist again, and there was more warmth, and then more and more.
Between the focused look on his face as he stared hungrily at her breasts, and the way he was emptying himself onto her belly, this was the most erotic thing she’d ever witnessed.
It was so mind-numbingly hot, she had completely forgotten about taking care of herself, but Gentry pulled her hand away and then slid his hand into her panties again and pushed two fingers into her this time. He was slow and steady until he had her writhing against him. His lips pressed against hers, and he swallowed her moans as she came again.
Gentry smiled against her lips, and though she couldn’t see it, only feel it, Blaire knew without a shadow of a doubt it was a cocky, wicked grin that would probably melt her panties all over again. With a spent sigh, she pushed her shirt down to her hips and sagged against him. Right about now, she felt like a noodle. A part of her expected Gentry to bolt, or push her out the door immediately. Matt wasn’t a cuddler and escaped her as fast as possible after sex, but Gentry didn’t seem to mind staying here in the moment. He held her so tenderly she didn’t understand.
Slowly, she slid her arms around his shoulders and just stood there in his warm embrace, frowning at the flames in the hearth behind him and wondering if this was for real. Wondering if she hadn’t just dreamed all of this.
Gentry, this almost-stranger, had just given her the single most beautiful and intimate experience, and now this rough-and-tumble, scarred-up, bright-eyed, bar-fighting, snarly man was holding her like she was as fragile as dandelion fluff. And was that his lips against the top of her head? She repaid him in kind by pressing a gentle kiss against the tripping pulse in his throat. His heart was pounding fast when she pressed her palm over the left side of his chest. She smiled and eased back so she could see his eyes, but he had them averted. And from this angle, they looked odd. Too bright, and his face was twisted up in a wild look she didn’t understand. Perhaps it was a trick of the sconce lighting and flickering flames.
Gentry pulled her away from the door enough to open it, and oh, here was the sendoff. Disappointment unfurled in Blaire’s chest. It had all been so beautiful while it lasted. He guided her with a gentle touch on her lower back. She half-expected him to say goodnight and go back in before she got off the porch, but he shocked her when he walked her silently the entire way to her cabin across the snowy parking lot. She was freezing again, on account of the blanket that was still sitting in the middle of his great room, the wetness on her stomach, and the frigid temperature, but he seemed perfectly at ease without a shirt on. His perfect little nipples weren’t even perked up.
“You’re not cold?” she asked.
He’d had a faraway expression in his face, but at her question, Gentry frowned and looked down at himself. “Oh. Uh, I’m used to living in cold temperatures. My body adjusted a long time ago.” He zipped up his pants and fastened his belt like that would convince her.
“Right,” she murmured suspiciously, stepping up onto her porch. “Well, thanks for dinner and, you know…after.” At least her cheeks were warm.
Gentry stayed on the bottom step but still wouldn’t look at her. He ran his hand roughly over his head. “I had fun.”
Blaire pursed her lips at how detached he sounded. “Me, too,” she murmured. “Night, Chaos.”
The corner of his lip quirked up, and he flashed her a bright-eyed look. “Night, Trouble.”
He turned and strode for his cabin, his hands shoved in his pockets, eyes on the woods to the left, and his breath freezing on every exhale.
She turned to go inside, but Gentry called over his shoulder, “Hey, Blaire?”
“Yeah?”
“If you’re into macaroni, it’s happening at eight in the morning before I head into town.” His wicked grin was back as he stood in the middle of the shadowy parking lot.
He was giving her a charming smirk that probably got him whatever he wanted with other women. Dangerous territory, that one.
Blaire leaned on the railing of her porch and played coy. “I’ll have to check my schedule.”