Page 32 of Alaskan Blackout

As if the vision he conjured would have a prayer of discouraging her.

“I certainly hope so.” She wanted to lure him into her house and seduce him into kissing her all night long. “Come inside and show me.”

Not giving him time to answer, she opened the passenger door and stepped out into the drizzle. Yanking the hood of her rain jacket over her head, she hurried toward the front door easily visible thanks to the porch light she’d left on.

From inside, Loki barked a greeting before she even got the key in the lock. McKenna heard the other door of the SUV slam shut and Quinton’s steps sounded behind her as she unlocked the house.

Moments later, they dripped together on the front mat, peeling off boots and outerwear while Freya and Loki watched the flurry of activity with interest. Normally, McKenna greeted her pets with ample praise and scratches for good behavior while she was gone. Right now, however, her every thought was about having Quinton’s hands and mouth on her again.

She didn’t have long to wait.

His shoes off and his coat hung up, Quinton took her hand and led her through the house to the stairs. Her heartbeat went wild, pounding so hard as if clamoring for attention. Her whole body one restless ache. And all the while, he steered her where he wanted her to go.

Her bedroom at the top of the stairs.

They hadn’t made it there during the night of the blackout since they’d wanted the heat the fireplace had to offer. Now, he stepped over the threshold of the darkened room, tugging her along. Not that she needed any encouragement to go there with him. Just being close to a bed with Quinton was enough to make her skin feel too tight, like she was ready to come right out of it.

When he paused beside the queen-size mattress covered in a blue-and-yellow quilt her stepmother had made with her during her senior year of high school, McKenna almost couldn’t believe he was here with her. That a man who affected her this way was even real.

Was she really going to just lose herself to the attraction when she had something of monumental importance to tell him? She turned toward him, almost thinking she wasn’t being fair to ask him for one more night in his arms.

Then, she saw the look in his eyes. Heard the rasp in his breath. That raw male needshe’dinspired. And she didn’t have a chance in hell of ignoring it. Not when she craved it so badly.

They fell together in a frenzy of touching. Her hands roamed all over him, underneath the jacket of his suit so her fingers could climb up the muscles of his back. Then down his chest to splay over his abs through his dress shirt. Except she didn’t want any barrier between them, so she tugged the tails of the shirt free from his pants until she could trace the ridges of his abdominals. His skin was hot and her touch made an involuntary shiver go through him. She savored that moment of feminine power over him, wanting to feel the exultancy of it again and again.

Only how could she focus on that when his hands roved all over her too? He’d already lowered the zipper on her dress so that it spilled off her, sliding down her body in a way that turned her on as much as any other touch. How was that even possible? But she was past the point of reason, her senses attuned to every feeling so that even a light breeze on her skin threatened to drive her closer to her sensual peak.

“I need to see all of you.” His words were warm against her ear while he unfastened her bra and discarded it. Then, glancing down at her in the dimness broken only by a sliver of hallway light from the partly open door, Quinton made a hungry sound in the back of his throat. “Have to have my mouth on these.”

Shamelessly arching her spine, she offered herself to him, eager to feel his lips fastened around the aching peaks of her breasts.

He obliged within moments, and the ache there only migrated to the empty place between her thighs. She writhed and whimpered as he teased a nipple between his teeth, rolling it over his tongue until she thought she’d come from the exquisite pleasure.

Except she wanted to savor this. Savor him.

“Please, Quinton.” She unfastened his belt with one hand so she could lower the other into his pants. Stroking the hard length of him made her all the more frantic to feel him inside her. “I need this. Now.”

Quinton was hanging on to his restraint by a thread.

With McKenna peeling her clothes off, her red hair haloing her body like a copper nimbus and her breath coming in sexy little sighs, it was all he could do to take his time with her. He wanted her underneath him, on top of him and all around him.

Then, once she wrapped her cool fingers around him and feathered silky strokes up his shaft, he was teetering on the brink after not being with her for weeks. All the hunger he’d built up for her roared through him with fresh ferocity.

“We need protection first,” he reminded her with his last functioning brain cell, knowing he needed to keep her safe.

Letting go of her with one hand, he dug in his pocket for a condom. Before he’d picked her up tonight, he’d berated himself for putting it there in the first place, certain that he wouldn’t need it on a date when he was telling her that he’d be leaving Dutch Harbor for good. Yet here they were.

Half-naked, desperate for one another, and he still hadn’t told her he’d booked a flight for the day after tomorrow. Guilt stung, but only for a moment considering the way McKenna was touching him. She shifted on her feet, her thighs rubbing against one another in a way that made his mouth water. She rolled her hips against his as if she couldn’t get enough of him.

He knew the feeling all too well because he couldn’t get enough of her either.

Raking off his shirt and pants with impatient hands, he found a condom through a haze of lust. McKenna’s room smelled like lavender and vanilla, a fragrance that he’d occasionally caught on her skin and that he hadn’t been able to identify until tonight. He liked seeing this softer side of her that she hid from the rest of the world, from the feminine clothes to the quilt on the bed that was a hand-stitched work of art.

Most of all, he loved knowing he wreaked the same havoc on her body that she did on his. That his touch made her breathless and needy. That his kiss could make her ready to peel off her clothes so she could lie with him.

Even now, she hooked her wrists behind his neck and guided him closer. She’d wriggled out of her underwear while he undressed, so there was no barrier left between them. Nothing to diminish the sensation of her silky skin against his hot flesh. She fit him like she was made for him.

By the time she tugged him down to her bed, he’d almost forgotten about the condom in his hand. She plucked it from between his fingertips, however, and stared at it for a moment.