Mark returned with two wineglasses and handed her one. He shoved her purse and jacket out of the way and sat beside her, his arm draped along the back of the sofa above her shoulders.
Jillian resisted the urge to move to the chair, where she should have sat in the first place. She took a deep breath of wood smoke tinged air, followed by a sip of a chardonnay way out of her normal price range. “This is excellent.”
“It’s one of my favorites.”
As they sat silently enjoying the wine and fire, Mark fingered her loose hair. Liquid heat pooled in her pelvis. The room seemed much too warm, but that had to be the fire. Or maybe because it had been too long since she’d been this close to a man.
All the more reason she should leave. Now. She drained her wineglass and set it on the coffee table. “I should go.”
Mark kissed her. Jillian tensed, but couldn’t resist the allure of his wonderful lips as they caressed hers. Only a few minutes longer and she’d leave.
Then Mark changed the rules—and the kiss. He pressed her back into the cushions, his mouth devouring hers. He fondled her breast through her sweater dress and thin lace bra. Jillian’s nipples tightened, her breath caught, her skin tingled. Pleasure shut down her brain—until his fingers touched her bare stomach under her dress.
She grabbed his hand, stilling it. “I can’t. I just met you.”
“Do you want me to stop? Tell me to stop any time and I will. I promise.”
She needed to say no. But his hand felt so good against her skin. “Don’t stop.”
He kissed her again, his lips fanning a fire hotter than the one crackling in the fireplace. Her skin burned wherever he touched it. She helped him raise her sweater dress over her head and pull it off, her clothing too hot and confining.
He unhooked and removed her bra then looked at her. “You’re so damn beautiful.” His lips closed over a nipple and sucked it deep into his mouth. Electricity shot from her breast down between her legs, and her sex throbbed. She arched into him.
It still wasn’t enough. She needed to feel his skin against hers, needed his hands touching her everywhere, needed her hands on him. She started unbuttoning his shirt.
He removed her hands and yanked the shirt, still buttoned, over his head, then sat up and moved her to straddle his lap.
As he kissed her, she rubbed her bare breasts against his torso, his pronounced muscles and crisp chest hair impossibly erotic against her nipples. She rocked against him. Even through his jeans and her tights his erection felt like hot iron.
“I want you so much.” He groaned the words, echoing how she felt.
She was drowning in waves of heat and desire. Being with him like this felt so good, so right. Except it wasn’t. “I never do this so soon. Never.”
“I know.” Mark raised his head, his features and voice tight. “Do you want to stop?”
Certain he would stop if she asked, and that she’d never wanted to stop anything less, Jillian shook her head.
His mouth captured hers again, and he half-carried her from the sofa onto the floor. He pulled off the rest of her clothes as she worked on his, frantic to touch all of him, to feel him inside her. She was struggling to remove his jeans, nearly crying with frustration at how her fingers fumbled, when he moved away. She reached to pull him back, but he wasn’t leaving, simply finishing the job himself.
“Thank God I’ve got this.” He pulled a foil packet from the pocket of his jeans and ripped it open with his teeth. Then he was back on top of her. “I’m sorry, I can’t go slow. I need you too much.”
She closed her hand around him, felt him shudder. He was huge, thick, and hot. Because of her.
Her entire body was trembling with want and need, her heartbeat rioting out of control. “Not slow. Now.” She positioned him against her.
He surged into her. “So good.” He thrust over and over.
She met his urgent rhythm. Then the world exploded, engulfing her, shooting through every nerve with a force that left her limp.
“Jillian.” Mark bucked hard then collapsed on top of her. He raised his head, his face only inches from hers, his eyes nearly black and impossibly warm. “So damn good.” He kissed her fiercely then collapsed again.
* * * *
Jillian lay underneath Mark, his heart and lungs keeping the same double-time rhythm as her own. So damn good. That’s how she felt. Spent, satisfied, and sensual.
Mark swore softly. “I must be crushing you. I’m sorry.” He rolled off her.
She forced her eyes open. “It’s okay.”
“You’ve also had your back against that scratchy carpet. I didn’t even take you into the bedroom. And I had all the control of a teen boy.” He started to get up.
Jillian circled her arms around his neck. “I said it’s okay. Actually, it was a lot more than okay.”
He searched her face, looking slightly anxious before his features relaxed. “It was, wasn’t it?” He tucked her securely against him. “I usually manage a little more finesse, but this time it overwhelmed me. You overwhelm me.” He kissed her again, gently. “Stay with me tonight? Please?” He stroked her arm and the outside of her breast, activating nerves that should have been comatose.
“I shouldn’t.” Her words lacked even the slightest iota of conviction.
“For a little while, then?” Mark rolled onto his back and pulled her on top of him. “I can’t give you up yet.” He touched his lips to her neck, licked her jaw. She shivered.
“Stay?” His hands skimmed over her body, making her simmer as his eyes coaxed her.
She needed to be reasonable. She needed to say no. His lips touched hers again.
She forgot all about being reasonable.
Chapter 3
Lumbering through the colorful crowd in front of the lodge as fast as possible in clunky ski boots, Jillian glanced at her watch. 12:24. She was usually neurotically prompt, but today she was more than twenty minutes late.
Kristen was waiting inside the glass front door. “So?”
“So why am I late? I’m sorry, but—”
“So how was it? How was he? Are you seeing him again?”
Jillian walked over to the window to buy a lift ticket. “Dinner was excellent. You should try Zenith.” For some reason it didn’t feel right to give details about last night, not even to Kristen. She took the ticket from the cashier and stuffed her Visa card and receipt into her jacket pocket.
“Tell me more. About Mark, not the restaurant.”
Jillian zipped her pocket shut and attached her lift ticket. “He’s a nice guy, and I had a nice time.”
“Nice.”
“Yes, nice. We’re having dinner tonight, but I’ll be home early.” Jillian put on her sunglasses then walked out of the lodge to the rack where she’d stashed her skis. Although the temperature was in the twenties, the bright sunlight warmed her face and melted puddles on the concrete. She grabbed the skis between the end pegs. “Now I’d like to go skiing.” She set her skis on the snow.
“I can’t believe you used the words ‘like’ and ‘skiing’ in the same sentence,” Kristen said. “At least one that doesn’t also include ‘don’t’. I was shocked when you told me last night that you wanted to ski with me today.”
Jillian positioned