pulled her body close. Rachel gasped as his chest brushed against hers, back and forth, as if he were deliberately teasing her. But he wouldn’t do that, would he?
Arching her hips, she rubbed against the erection behind his jeans. Groaning, Dean pushed her back against the wall, rocking into the cradle of her hips. His mouth took on a new fervency, fitting to hers completely, his tongue gliding against hers. A wave of arousal ran down the center of her body to her clit and it was almost too much. She didn’t remember feeling this way with the other men she’d been with and it was a little disconcerting.
Not so disconcerting that she wanted to stop, though.
Rachel ran her hands across the expanse of his abdomen. Muscles flexed beneath her touch, taut and rippled. Her fingers sought for a way inside to his skin. Dean helped her by ripping the shirt over his head and tossing it away to land in a heap against the hallway wall.
Rachel lost her breath as she looked at the beauty in front of her. Broad and massively muscled, lean hipped, Dean looked like the ideal man to her. His touch was incredibly gentle as he burrowed his own hands under her shirt to rest against her skin. Rachel jerked, unused to feeling a man’s hand there, but quickly decided she liked it.
“Can we move to my bedroom?” she whispered.
Dean nodded but didn’t want to let her go, she could tell. Turning in his hold, she kept his hands on her as she led him to the room.
Rachel was not an interior designer, but of all the rooms in the house she liked to think this one probably gave the most insight into her personality. Though she’d only worn a few shades of military throughout her career, she loved bold colors, quirky objects and things that didn’t necessarily go together. The bedroom walls were painted deep blue and decorated with a few pieces of art she’d picked up from around the world, not very expensive things but expressive . There were pictures of a herd of elephants in a fog-laden field, a craggy mountain landscape with a single climber and her favorite, a view of the cloud tops from above. It reminded her of flying.
Dean glanced around the room with interest but he didn’t let it distract him from his goal. Rachel was nudged into the room, his erection cradled by her butt cheeks. Even before they undressed she could tell they were going to fit well.
Dean ran his thumbs under the elastic of her bra. Rachel stilled, barely daring to breathe. When his hands abruptly left she tried not to be disappointed but he only moved to unfasten her bra. It couldn’t go anywhere because it was still under her shirt, but it was now loose enough that he could cup her breasts in his hands. Rachel gasped, hard, at the abrupt feeling of his broad palms cupping her, and her body responded with a flood of moisture down low. “Oh,” she moaned.
Dean caressed the weight of her, then his thumbs and forefingers moved to her nipples. Rachel felt like she’d been hit with an electric charge, but he calmed her with kisses against her temple. “If it’s too much, let me know.”
She nodded because there was no way she could speak right then. Devastating hunger rocked her body and she wanted more, she just wasn’t sure how to articulate it. When his hands drifted away from her breasts to her sides and lifted her shirt away, her enjoyment abruptly chilled. Her scars were not pretty at the best of times and she hated that she couldn’t see his face.
“Oh, Rachel,” he sighed.
Then the most incredible thing happened. He began to drop kisses along the length of her spine. Goose bumps pebbled her flesh from his touch. “Are you sure they don’t bother you? I can wear a T-shirt if I need to.”
Her breath stalled in her lungs until he moved his head into her line of vision. “And why would I want you to do that?”
She shrugged, a little uncomfortable with the probing look. “Nobody’s seen them so I didn’t know if they would freak you out or
Arching her hips, she rubbed against the erection behind his jeans. Groaning, Dean pushed her back against the wall, rocking into the cradle of her hips. His mouth took on a new fervency, fitting to hers completely, his tongue gliding against hers. A wave of arousal ran down the center of her body to her clit and it was almost too much. She didn’t remember feeling this way with the other men she’d been with and it was a little disconcerting.
Not so disconcerting that she wanted to stop, though.
Rachel ran her hands across the expanse of his abdomen. Muscles flexed beneath her touch, taut and rippled. Her fingers sought for a way inside to his skin. Dean helped her by ripping the shirt over his head and tossing it away to land in a heap against the hallway wall.
Rachel lost her breath as she looked at the beauty in front of her. Broad and massively muscled, lean hipped, Dean looked like the ideal man to her. His touch was incredibly gentle as he burrowed his own hands under her shirt to rest against her skin. Rachel jerked, unused to feeling a man’s hand there, but quickly decided she liked it.
“Can we move to my bedroom?” she whispered.
Dean nodded but didn’t want to let her go, she could tell. Turning in his hold, she kept his hands on her as she led him to the room.
Rachel was not an interior designer, but of all the rooms in the house she liked to think this one probably gave the most insight into her personality. Though she’d only worn a few shades of military throughout her career, she loved bold colors, quirky objects and things that didn’t necessarily go together. The bedroom walls were painted deep blue and decorated with a few pieces of art she’d picked up from around the world, not very expensive things but expressive . There were pictures of a herd of elephants in a fog-laden field, a craggy mountain landscape with a single climber and her favorite, a view of the cloud tops from above. It reminded her of flying.
Dean glanced around the room with interest but he didn’t let it distract him from his goal. Rachel was nudged into the room, his erection cradled by her butt cheeks. Even before they undressed she could tell they were going to fit well.
Dean ran his thumbs under the elastic of her bra. Rachel stilled, barely daring to breathe. When his hands abruptly left she tried not to be disappointed but he only moved to unfasten her bra. It couldn’t go anywhere because it was still under her shirt, but it was now loose enough that he could cup her breasts in his hands. Rachel gasped, hard, at the abrupt feeling of his broad palms cupping her, and her body responded with a flood of moisture down low. “Oh,” she moaned.
Dean caressed the weight of her, then his thumbs and forefingers moved to her nipples. Rachel felt like she’d been hit with an electric charge, but he calmed her with kisses against her temple. “If it’s too much, let me know.”
She nodded because there was no way she could speak right then. Devastating hunger rocked her body and she wanted more, she just wasn’t sure how to articulate it. When his hands drifted away from her breasts to her sides and lifted her shirt away, her enjoyment abruptly chilled. Her scars were not pretty at the best of times and she hated that she couldn’t see his face.
“Oh, Rachel,” he sighed.
Then the most incredible thing happened. He began to drop kisses along the length of her spine. Goose bumps pebbled her flesh from his touch. “Are you sure they don’t bother you? I can wear a T-shirt if I need to.”
Her breath stalled in her lungs until he moved his head into her line of vision. “And why would I want you to do that?”
She shrugged, a little uncomfortable with the probing look. “Nobody’s seen them so I didn’t know if they would freak you out or
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