He wrenched his mouth from hers and managed a laugh. “Damn, maybe patience is overrated.”
“Exactly,” she said, her breathing hard and rasping.
“You’ll have to find a little bit more patience, sweetheart,” he said as he curled his arm around her waist, lifted her and stripped the tight shorts off her body. He also removed the lacy bra, so that she was completely naked on the wooden table.
“No fair. You’re still dressed.”
“Don’t worry about that right now,” he said softly. With his palm on her chest he leaned her back until she was resting against the wall. Then he grasped her just under the knees and pushed her legs apart until she was bared to him.
“Oh damn, Jammer. I want you.”
“Soon. Very soon, baby.”
He grabbed more cherries and crushed them, then rubbed his fingers over her clit. Gina cried out, but he didn’t give her a moment to catch her breath. His mouth captured her clit with suctioning pulls and swirls of his tongue, and she came with quick thrusts of her hips.
His restraint finally broken, Jammer undid his cutoffs and let them and his briefs drop to the floor.
When he moved back to the table, she was waiting. Her hand snaked out, captured his throbbing cock and guided him to her. He needed no encouragement as he slipped inside her, the juice from the cherries sliding along his shaft with a tingling, sensual burn.
The heat of her sex scorched him. Made him move with deep, slow thrusts inside her.
Then she tensed and quickened, captivated as she reached between them to feel him glide wetly into her, then retreat. Her touch was heavy and bold, and he loved this side of her. Most of the time she was out there for everyone to see, but this Gina, this intimate Gina, was all his.
Jammer wanted more, to connect when he hadn’t-wouldn’t-allow himself to have anything beyond casual and quick sex. Playing it safe had become ingrained in him for three long years. Then she’d opened that door in Paris and he would never be the same. Casual and Gina just didn’t mesh.
But he and Gina did.
In a profound and primal way that he hadn’t thought possible.
He knew that every moment he spent with her would only make it that much harder to separate when the time came. His chest and throat constricted at the thought, so he pushed it aside and focused on the incredible sensations she was generating with her sleek, sexy body.
“Jammer, please,” she begged softly.
His control severed and his hips plunged faster into the tight core of her. She wrapped her legs around him, squeezing hard and holding on to him as if she would never let go.
He deepened his thrusts, his possession raw and savage. Matching his rhythm, she finally came, holding nothing back and whispering her satisfaction. One more flex of thick muscle and his own climax roared over him, joining hers. And she felt it, accepted the power of him, the brutal honesty of the moment.
Jammer threw his head back, caught, the wild grip of her flesh wringing him. Splintered rapture shredded his composure. Yet in the throes of release, he was aware of her smooth skin, the scent that was quintessentially Gina, the soft gasp as she absorbed the pleasure he was giving her. “Damn, Gina,” he murmured, slipping his arms around her, the last threads of passion dissolving under a slow, thick kiss.
Seconds passed as they held each other. Darkness had fallen outside the window and the rumble of Gina’s stomach broke the silence.
He chuckled and let her go. “Sounds like you need some food.”
“I’m starving. Those cherries made me a little tipsy on an empty stomach.”
“Let’s quickly finish this bottling and we’ll head into the house. I’ll make you a meal.”
She looked at him with one eyebrow cocked. “Oh my God, don’t tell me you cook.”
“I do.”
“If you also iron, I’m going to keep you.”
He laughed and felt that same constriction in his chest. He told himself it wasn’t possible. He dressed quickly, handing Gina her clothes, then made quick work of bottling the brandy, stoppering it and setting it on a shelf with the others to receive the special Craving Brandy label.
Holding hands, they left the shed and walked to the house. Gina stopped suddenly and said, “Wow, check out the stars. The night sky is gorgeous.”
Jammer looked up and took in the beauty of the smudged blue sky dotted with lights. She was right.
“Let’s eat outside. It’s so pretty,” she exclaimed.
“No problem. There’s a patio by the kitchen door that overlooks the pool and the vineyards.”
“Sounds simply wonderful.”
They entered the house and headed upstairs, where they took a quick shower that soon got out of hand. Once again Gina’s stomach rumbling sent them back on course. Sitting at the island, she flipped open her cell phone. “Let me make some calls and see if I can put something together while you cook.”
He nodded and went to the fridge, pulling out what he needed. He set water to boil and when it was ready added lasagna noodles.
He started off with olive oil in a pan, followed by onions, mushrooms, garlic, basil, chicken broth and cornstarch. Once it was simmering, he added cream cheese, stirring slowly as it melted, releasing mouthwatering aromas.
“That smells heavenly. Is it going to be ready soon?”
“Nope. Got to layer it together and put it in the oven. You’re going to have to pull that patience out again.”
“Well, hurry it up.”
Jammer added sour cream, artichokes and crab meat into the pan, seasoning with salt and pepper. Next, he spread some of the mixture along each lasagna noodle, rolled it up and set it in a shallow casserole. When the dish was full, he covered it with foil and popped it into the oven, setting the timer.
“Let’s go outside until it’s done. Enjoy the night,” he said as he opened the French doors and stepped out. The patio was tiered, gently sloping down to a sparkling turquoise pool. He walked to the second tier and settled into a chaise longue and pulled Gina into his lap. She curled against him, snuggling her head under his chin.
“So where did you learn to cook?” she asked.
“My mother taught me.” He lifted a hand and stroked it over her hair. His heart constricted at the thought of his mother.
“Oh,” Gina said, a cautious tone to her voice.
She knew as well as he that they were getting into personal territory, and he wasn’t sure that they should.
“Are they still alive?”
“No, they aren’t. It’s better that they’re not,” he said, then regretted the words.
“Because of what you do for a living?”
He shrugged, as if it was unimportant, when it was far from that. “Yeah,” he answered, but that wasn’t the truth at all. It had to do with the pain and agony they would have had to endure, knowing they had lost their only son. He wouldn’t have been able to participate in this plan to take down Fuentes if they had lived.
“Any luck with your contacts?” he asked, effectively changing the painful subject.
“Yes, I think so. I’m waiting for a couple of calls. A guy in Rome who I think will have some of what you need-namely the surface-to-air missiles-and I have a guy in London who should be able to deliver on the other required items.”
“Excellent. Fuentes will be calling tomorrow for an update on his order. It’d be good to be able to tell him we’re moving forward.”
“What is he like?”
“Fuentes? A freaking little girl in a grown man’s body. When he doesn’t get his way, he has these tantrums that are ridiculous to watch. How he ever built an empire is a mystery to me.”
“Do you think there will be a possibility of more deals once you’ve supplied what he’s asking for?”
Not if Jammer had any say in the matter. But he had a role to play here and he knew how to play it well. “Of course. Drug dealers always need weapons for the movement of their product. It’s a fact of life.”