Killjoy

Capturing the sides of her face with his hands, his mouth covered hers and his tongue sank into her warm sweet mouth. He took his time. Long, slow thrusts that cost him dearly. Beads of perspiration covered his brow, and as he made love to her, he realized

it had never been this incredible before. Never.

Avery was overwhelmed by the sensations rushing through her. They were so intense, so new. She couldn't let him slow the

pace any longer. She came undone in his arms, wild, more demanding, her nails scoring his shoulders as she met his thrusts with equal passion.

Driven to please her and give her fulfillment before he claimed his own, he tried to slow down, but she would have none of it. Their lovemaking turned uncontrolled, primitive, almost savage. He was consumed.

Avery could feel her control vanishing, but she wasn't afraid. It was the most amazing feeling to be so uninhibited and to let

herself go without fear or worry. She knew she was safe in his arms, and as she reached the precipice and her body began to shiver for release, she arched up against him. Wave after wave of undiluted pleasure coursed through her body as she clung to him.

Impossible to hold back, his orgasm was triggered by hers, and he climaxed deep inside of her, clenching his jaw in ecstasy.

They stayed joined together as one for long, blissful minutes. Their breathing was ragged, and neither one of them had the

strength to move. Their hearts pounded in unison. He buried his face in her silky hair, closed his eyes as he inhaled her

wonderful fragrance.

"Damn," he whispered. She'd taken every ounce of his strength. His bones felt like liquid as he tried to move so he wouldn't

crush her.

She obviously didn't mind his weight because she squeezed him when he shifted his position, and whispered, "Not yet."

Had he been too rough with her? The thought popped into his head and anchored there. He could have been more gentle, but

she'd been so wonderfully uninhibited, he'd gone a little crazy.

"Avery? You okay?"

She smiled because of the worry she heard in his voice. And then she whispered, "So that's what all the fuss was about."

And then she laughed with such delight, he smiled in spite of his exhaustion.

With a sigh, he rolled away, then got up and went into the bathroom.

She pulled the sheet up, adjusted her pillow, and fell back. She was still a little overwhelmed by what she had just experienced. Sex, she decided, sex with John Paul anyway, could definitely become addictive.

The bed springs groaned when John Paul stretched out beside her. She opened her eyes and smiled. He looked so arrogantly proud of himself. He was on his side with his head propped up staring at her.

She looked thoroughly ravaged. Passion lingered in her eyes, and her lips were swollen from his kisses.

She knew she'd satisfied him, but she still needed him to tell her so. Silly how she could feel so powerful a minute ago and now

the old insecurities were creeping back. No, she hadn't disappointed him. Why wasn't he telling her so?

He could see it happening. In her eyes. They were clouded. He didn't think she was regretting anything… just worried maybe.

He knew he'd guessed right when she said, "What are you thinking?"

He tugged on the sheet, pulling it down to the tips of her breasts. She pulled it back up.

"Bet I can get this off you faster than a prom dress," he drawled.

"Oh, brother. You're pretty happy with yourself right now, aren't you?"

"Damn right I am," he said as he leaned down and kissed her. His tongue slipped inside and tickled the roof of her mouth.

When he pulled back, she was breathless. But then, so was he.

Oh, how she loved this man. He was so completely perfect for her. She reached up to brush his hair off his forehead, an excuse

to keep touching him. She couldn't seem to get enough.

" 'Heavens to Betsy'?" he drawled. "That's what you said, sugar, when you were coming apart in my arms. Actually, you screamed it."

She laughed. "I did not."

"Yeah, you did."

"I know what you shouted, but I'm not going to repeat it."

His grin was lecherous. "Guess what."

Her fingers trailed down the muscled cord on the side of his neck, then crossed his shoulder. She gently traced it with her fingertips.

"What?" she asked lazily.

"Prom dress is gone."

Startled, she lifted her head and looked down. The sheet was around her ankles. "You are good."

He leaned down and kissed each breast. His fingers slowly circled her navel. A jagged scar crisscrossed the lower part of her abdomen. The raised, puckered center indicated a bullet had done the damage. Probably a.38, he thought. Or maybe a.45.

Damn, it was a miracle she had survived. He leaned forward and took his time kissing every inch of her stomach, smiling as she inhaled sharply. He rolled back on his side so he could watch her face as his hand slid down into her soft curls.

Avery was having trouble catching her breath. "Do you want…"

"Oh, yeah. I want."

Moaning softly, she moved restlessly against him, her toes rubbing his lower legs.

She tried to touch him, but he grabbed her hand. "Relax, sugar. Let me…"

It was as far as he got. She was surprisingly strong. And bold. She pushed him onto his back and leaned over him. "Relax?

I don't think so, John Paul. This is a team sport, isn't it?"

He couldn't answer her. Her hands had captured his arousal, and she was slowly driving him wild with her caresses.

"And…" she whispered as she straddled his hips and kissed him passionately.

"And what?" he asked, his voice as coarse as sandpaper.

Her eyes sparkled when she answered. "I'm definitely a team player."

Chapter 31

The man was insatiable. Avery woke up at noon. She didn't usually sleep so late, but John Paul hadn't let her get much

est during the night.

She was on her stomach with one arm hanging over the side of the bed. He was tickling her back. His fingers were as light

as feathers. Was he trying to drive her crazy, or was he being so very gentle because of her scars?

Oh, God, her scars. Even Carrie, who loved her like a mother, couldn't stop herself from grimacing when she looked at her.

"You awake yet?" he asked. "Avery?"

She didn't say good morning. She blurted, "What do you think?"

"About what?'

"My back."

"Can you handle the truth?"

Uh-oh. She didn't like his tone one bit. She could feel her defenses building inside her. "Yes, I can handle it," she said tightly. "What are you thinking about?"

"Your sweet little ass."

She rolled over and looked up at him.

"It's the first thing I noticed about you when you came strutting inside the lobby of that spa."

Smiling, she said, "I didn't strut."

"Sure you did."

"You're a pervert."

"You're a liberal. I figure that makes us even. About the scars…"

She was still smiling when she asked, "Yes?"

"They're just scars. They don't define who you are. Now get up. Breakfast will be ready in ten minutes. Move it," he said as

he rolled off the bed.

He was stark naked and seemed thoroughly happy about it. He was gorgeous. All muscle and male.

"Put some clothes on, for Pete's sake."

"Why?"

"Do you go around like that in the swamp?"

"I wish I could, but I can't, not with the gators and snakes."

He grabbed his jeans from the chair and went into the living room. Avery took a quick shower and put on a pair of navy shorts

and a pale yellow blouse. Her hair was tucked behind her ears when she padded barefoot into the living room.

John Paul went into the kitchen to fix her plate and placed it in front of her. Then he handed her a bottle of Tabasco sauce.