It's in His Kiss by Jill Shalvis Page A

difficulty and met his very intense gaze.
    “You couldn’t disappoint me if you tried,” he said, and with that, he turned off the water, grabbed a towel, and dried her.
    She was so lost in the pleasure of him running the towel over her body, and the way he then tossed aside the towel to use his hands—and mouth—deliciously rough, demanding, and thorough, that she didn’t even realize they were moving until they fell together on her bed.
    There he began all over again from the beginning, with long drugging kisses and teasing touches that had her rocking into him, desperate for release. He made her come twice like that, once with his fingers, and then again with his mouth, so that she was still thrumming with adrenaline and shuddering with it when he finally rolled on the blue condom and pushed inside her. His hands slid beneath her bottom and pulled her into him, grinding the two of them together with every stroke. Her eyes drifted shut but he nipped at her lower lip until she opened them again.
    His gaze was intently fierce, so much so that she quivered. “Stay with me,” he said. He had one arm wrapped around her; the other slid down the back of her thigh, further opening her up for him as he thrust long and hard and deep, holding her gaze captive in his the entire time. The muscles in his arms and shoulders strained with the effort of holding himself back, keeping the pace slow.
    Heaven.
    She was close, so shockingly, desperately close, hernerves were screaming. “Please,” she gasped, unable to say more. Luckily for her Sam didn’t need additional instruction. It took only a few more of those hard, masterful strokes for him to bring her to the very edge of sanity, and then his arms pulled her in even closer, so that they touched in every way possible, skin on skin, and the exquisite slow sliding of friction sending her flying. As the surprise orgasm rippled through her, she clenched tight around him, absorbing his low, rough groan. With one more thrust, he came right along with her.
    It was a long few moments before she regained control of her limbs and could loosen the arms she had in a death grip around his neck. “Sorry,” she murmured and tried to pull back.
    But Sam was having none of it. “Stay with me,” he said again, and then brushed a kiss over her damp temple. Lifting his head, he studied her. “You okay?”
    “I— You—” Words failed.
    He huffed a soft laugh and kissed her. “Yeah, you’re okay,” he said, and slid out of her. She made a sound of helpless regret at the loss, and he kissed her again. “Don’t move,” he commanded, and vanished into her bathroom.
    He was back in less than two minutes, sliding beneath her covers and hauling her in tight against him. He’d made good on his promises, proving that when he warned her about something, it was best to listen. It’d been good, and he’d indeed made her forget about the pizza.
    He held her for a while, certainly long beyond what she’d have deemed the polite amount of cuddle time, his cheek resting lightly on top of her head, his arms around her. She had her face plastered to his bare chest and waslistening to his steady heartbeat beneath her, waiting for him to extract himself.
    He never did.
    Finally, exhausted, she fell into a coma-like sleep and woke with a smile on her face to the sun streaming in her windows.
    And an empty bed.

Chapter 8

    Sam might have left Becca’s bed as surprisingly as he’d arrived in it, but the bigger surprise had been what had happened in it.
    She smiled every time she thought about it, which was often enough to prompt Olivia to stop in the hallway the next day and ask Becca what was so damn wonderful.
    Becca had laughed but shaken her head. She wasn’t going to share, but it turned out that despite Sam’s silent departure, having crazy hot sex was good for a person’s frame of mind.
    Real good.
    Becca didn’t come up with a jingle for Diaxsis over the next few days, but she felt