Men of Courage: Trapped! / Buried! / Stranded!

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Rosie bit his bottom lip. She wasn’t overly gentle, either. He jerked, but she knotted her hands in his hair and brought his mouth back to hers so she could suck his lip into her mouth, tease it with her tongue.

“Jesus, Rosie, slow down.”

“No.” She sealed their mouths together and Ethan tilted his head so he could take over, thrusting his tongue into her mouth, swallowing her moan. It was the first deep kiss they’d ever shared, and boy, it was good.

“Wait.” She shoved him back and reached for the hem of her shirt. “I want you to touch me. I’ve been thinking about you touching me for days.”

Oh, no. Hell, no. In very Rosie-like fashion, she was running the show. Ethan couldn’t let her do that. She probably had no idea that she drove him wild, that he might lose control at any moment. She’d never driven him wild before, so how could she know?

He caught her wrists and held her still, even when she struggled against him. “Damn it, Rosie. Give me a second.” He panted, trembled, while she continued to fight him. He should have expected as much; Rosie wouldn’t accept any man’s control easily, not even a man she wanted. Above the lust, that struck Ethan as funny, and he laughed roughly.

Rosie glared at him. “What?” she demanded, still pulling against his hold.

“Let’s go into your bedroom.” Maybe if he could get her pinned beneath him on the mattress, he could slow her down a little.

“The bedroom? Oh, okay.” She tried to turn and hurry in that direction.

Ethan pulled her up short, a little desperate. “Honey, this isn’t a race.”

She turned around and yelled right into his face, “You’ll change your mind!”

She looked so vulnerable, so unsure of herself. He’d been a pig, not seeing what was right in front of his face. “No,” he told her very softly, smiling to reassure her. “Not a chance.”

“Then why—?”

“Ever since I woke up with you this morning, my imagination has been in overdrive.” He touched her slightly parted mouth with trembling fingertips. “Hell, Rosie, thinking about you, wanting you all day, has been like indulging in foreplay for hours and the result is that I’m working with a hair trigger here.”

Her eyes darkened to a deep gray. “You’ve been thinking about me?”

“About getting you naked and under me, yeah.” Saying it made him see it, and his stomach cramped with need. But she deserved to hear everything. “I’ve also been jealous as hell.”

“Jealous? Of who?”

Ethan released her and rubbed his face. The need to laugh struck him again, lightening the urgency—at least for him—just a little. Rosie could be so single-minded in her determination she noticed nothing beyond her objective. Of course, he’d been the same, blind to the fact of his friends’ interest.

But no more.

Ethan caught her hand and led her toward the bedroom. “Everyone. Any guy who looks at you.”

“Really?”

“Especially that damned Riley.” They entered her bedroom and Ethan pushed the door shut. “He knew it, too, and kept egging me on.”

Disbelief had her wrinkling her nose. “Riley?”

Ethan stared down at her, so overwhelmed with tenderness—with newfound love—he could have choked on it. “And Harris and Buck.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“No.” His smile came naturally. So did the love he felt for her, until it filled him up, making him feel whole for the first time in ages. Loosely looping his arms around her, Ethan kissed her temple. “I knew all along that I thought you were hot, but they think it, too.”

She snorted. “They do not.”

“They do.” He smoothed her cheek, her silky-soft brown hair. Rosie. He couldn’t get over the shock, or the rightness of it. “But you only want me, right?”

She stared at him a long minute before squeezing him tight. “I’m not her, Ethan. Of course, I only want you. Michelle was the biggest fool alive to walk out on you. And as much as I hurt for you when it happened, I was so glad you didn’t marry her.”

Ethan closed his eyes, cut by her words. He hadn’t meant to bring that up, hadn’t even been thinking in that direction. Hell, the humiliation Michelle had inflicted couldn’t possibly invade his thoughts, not now, not with Rosie in front of him, ready to take him to her bed. He took one breath, then another, but it didn’t help.

Leaning back, Rosie saw his pained expression and flattened one hand on his chest. “You didn’t love her, Ethan. I know you didn’t.”

“Rosie…”

Her small hand smoothed over his chest then down his abdomen, and lower. He caught his breath.

Still staring up at him, she touched his fly, gently, curiously. He was fully erect, straining his jeans, and Rosie traced her fingertips up and down his length. “I’m not a fool,” she said. “How could I want any other man but you?”

“Yeah,” Ethan murmured, barely able to think much less discuss the past. “Right now.”

Her smile affected him as much as her touch. “I’m ready.”

She stepped back and this time when she reached for the hem of her shirt, Ethan didn’t stop her. He stood there, every muscle in his body tense, as Rosie disrobed as naturally as if she’d been baring herself to him for a lifetime. She threw the shirt aside, unhooked her bra, and still he stood there, just watching—and catching on fire.

With slow precision, playing the tease naturally, she unsnapped her shorts, slid down the zipper, and bent to push them off, taking her panties with her. When she straightened, she was beautifully naked.

A slight blush colored her cheeks when she lifted her face and looked at him. Shaking, Ethan closed his hands on her waist and brought her up against him.

“Rosie,” he whispered, and he took her mouth as he lowered her down to lie flat on the mattress. He’d waited long enough.

He couldn’t wait a second more.

CHAPTER FOUR

ROSIE FELT HIS MOUTH on her throat, open, damp, hot. One big hand rested on her ribs, just beneath her right breast. He laid half-atop her, heat pouring off him, and he wanted her.

She closed her eyes and luxuriated in the moment. She loved him so much she hurt with it, and now finally she could tell him.

His long rough fingers slid gently over and around her breast, teasing, making her skin prickle, before he cupped her fully. She could feel his hot breath against her shoulder, near her ear, disturbing the fine hairs at her nape. His breathing was rough, uneven, sounding so sexy, so male. He continued to place openmouthed kisses here and there, until Rosie couldn’t catch and hold a thought.

She was already squirming, unable to stay still, when his thumb brushed over her stiffened nipple once then returned again and again. The effect was startling, wonderful. Her heart raced and everything she felt intensified to an acute ache.

Rosie looked at him, and all she could think was that this was Ethan, finally. He was hers. “Ethan…”

He groaned, lowered his head and took her nipple into the wet heat of his mouth.

An overwhelming wave of sensation made her thighs stiffen, her toes curl. “Oh, Ethan…”

She arched hard, but Ethan held her steady. “Look at you,” he murmured, and his breath drifted over her wet nipple. “So pink and soft. So sweet.”

He switched to the other breast and Rosie thought it was almost too much. She’d wanted this, wanted him, for as long as she could remember.

“Take your shirt off, too, Ethan. Please.” She barely recognized her own voice, but Ethan understood. He came up to his knees, straddling her hips, and yanked his shirt up and over his head. He started to return to her breasts but she flattened her hands on his shoulders and held him back.

“Let me touch you,” she whispered with wonder. She’d seen Ethan without his shirt before. They’d played softball, gone swimming, and he’d helped her move in. Each time he’d pulled off his shirt, as most of the guys had. It had been so hard not to stare, not to let her love for him show through. All of them were impressive, but they all weren’t Ethan.

Now he was here, with her, and she intended to get her fill.

Slowly, savoring the moment, she smoothed her palms over him. He felt perfect to her, hard and sleek and hot, with soft, crisp hair lightly scattered from pectoral to pectoral. His body hair was shades darker than his blond head, a rich brown, matching his brows and lashes. A very sexy line of silky hair teased down the middle of his abdomen and disappeared into his low-riding jeans. Awed, Rosie shoved him onto his back.

He smiled up at her, eyes twinkling with amusement. “You are so pushy, Rosie.”

This time she straddled his hips—and he shut up as she settled atop his erection. “I can feel you beneath me.” Her eyes closed, her breath caught. “I can’t wait until you’re inside me, Ethan. Until I can feel all of you.”

Heat flared in his eyes and he growled, “Come here.”

She evaded his hands and moved to the side of him. “You need to take off your jeans.” She flipped the snap loose and grabbed for his zipper.

“Rosie, wait.” His long fingers curled around her wrist. She looked at his face and saw that his pupils were dilated, his nostrils flared. Arousal colored his high cheekbones.

He wanted her, and she loved him. It was more than enough.

She bent and kissed his navel.

Ethan stiffened, but Rosie continued to kiss him, each rib, across to a hipbone—the hard ridge of his erection through his jeans. His stomach tautened until each muscle was defined. “Rosie, honey…” He gasped and his hands fell to his sides.

Satisfied, she licked the hot, taut flesh of his abdomen as she carefully lowered his zipper. “Raise your hips,” she murmured, so anxious to have all of him that she couldn’t stop trembling.

He did as she asked and she worked his jeans down his muscled legs, then his underwear. It took her a moment to work off his shoes and socks, and then finally he was completely, wonderfully naked. Like a feast laid out in front of her, Ethan was irresistible and she couldn’t stop devouring him with her gaze. She heard a rough, rumbling purr and realized the carnal sound was her own.

Relishing each broken breath he took, the way his strong fingers fisted in the sheets, Rosie reached out her hand and touched him. The feel of his penis amazed her, warm velvet over flexing steel, alive, pulsing. Ethan made small desperate sounds as she explored him, but she barely paid him any mind, too intent on what she wanted.

She bent toward him again and his rough fingers tangled gently in her hair.

“You smell so good.” Nuzzling into him, she breathed deeply, filling herself with the wonderful musky male scent.

With the smallest nudge, Ethan guided her mouth to his straining erection, and she obliged, anxious to taste him as she’d so often dreamed of doing.

She wasn’t disappointed with his reaction. The first touch of her tongue on him and he froze, his powerful body shaking. “Oh, damn.”

Rosie stroked her tongue over him, licking along his length then up and over the broad head. With a rough growl, he tried to pull away. “I’m going to lose it, honey,” he warned.

“Okay,” she purred, and opened her mouth, taking him in. His taste was delicious, turning her on even more. She heard him moan again—and she sucked.

A great shudder went through Ethan; his fingers clenched in her hair to hold her closer and his hips lifted with a small, unintentional jerk. She took more of him, sucking gently, moving her wet tongue over and around and…

“Enough.” His strength took her by surprise as he pulled her away and up to his chest. “Rosie, baby, that’s enough.” Before she could protest, he turned and caught her beneath him. His mouth covered hers and he kissed her with rough determination, his tongue wild, his hands stroking everywhere.

Wanting him now, Rosie opened her thighs for him, but instead of accepting her invitation he slid down a little and again kissed her breasts. He wasn’t so gentle this time, sucking strongly at her nipples, nipping with his teeth. She cried out, stunned by his urgency, which made her own need escalate, but still he didn’t stop. He slid lower and one hand moved between her thighs.

The shock of it had her stiffening, but he didn’t seem to notice. They both paused and she heard Ethan groan as he carefully began exploring her, his fingertips gliding through her curls, pressing in, parting her. It seemed the oddest caress, so intimate, so hot and stimulating and, judging by the hungry sounds he made, Ethan enjoyed touching her as much as she enjoyed his touch. She didn’t know what she had expected, but the gentle, insistent way he continued to stroke her made her wild.

His five o’clock shadow rasped against her belly as he turned his face inward to kiss her, leaving small, tingling love bites. By slow degrees, he went lower and lower until taking a single breath was too difficult to accomplish.

Rosie struggled to assimilate all the new feelings—and then he pushed one finger into her and she jerked, her eyes rounding, her body rioting with sensation. “Ethan.”

“You’re tight.” His voice was nearly soundless with arousal. “And wet.”

She bit her lip to keep her groans to herself, but she couldn’t stop the automatic rise and fall of her hips. Ethan had large, hard, wonderful hands.

“Yeah, that’s it. That’s what I want.” He worked another finger in, stretching her, just as his breath touched her most sensitive flesh.

“Ethan?” This was all very new to her, though he couldn’t know that. “I…”

With his fingers buried deep inside her, he covered her with his mouth. The scalding heat struck her first, then the gentle damp rasp of his velvet tongue. The sensation was so intense she couldn’t bear it, but she couldn’t stop him, either. No matter how she twisted, how she moaned, Ethan didn’t stop.

If anything, he pressed closer, holding her motionless with the weight of his broad shoulders, and then his mouth closed around her clitoris, suckling at her while his fingers pushed, withdrew and sank in again.

Her climax hit her without warning. Rosie had thought about this moment so many times, about how she’d act feminine and sexy and she’d lure Ethan so that he wanted to have sex with her again and again.

Instead she shouted like a crazy person, her body arching hard, uncontrollably. His hold tightened and he drove her until every nerve was alive, tingling.

As the spiraling explosion faded, she heard Ethan moan, felt his hands settle on her hips, tenderly squeezing. When she lay flat again, stunned and more or less quiet, he pulled away.

Rosie couldn’t move. Her legs were sprawled around him, her thoughts scattered. She simply hadn’t expected such a thing, such a wild bombardment on her senses.

Ethan rested his cheek on her belly and hugged her. She still gasped for breath, astounded by what had just happened, when he whispered, “I love you, Rosie.”

Her heart slammed to a halt. It took her two tries to catch her breath, to believe he’d actually said those special words, and then she started to sob. She didn’t mean to, but once the tears started, she couldn’t stop them. And damn it, she wasn’t a pretty crier. She wasn’t very quiet, either.

Ethan lifted his head to look at her, and his smile was lopsided, a little silly. “I’ve never seen you cry, Rosie.”

“Shut up.” She sniffled, wiped at her eyes and stretched her arm to the nightstand for a handful of tissues.

Watching her with that endearing grin in place, Ethan said, “So surly.”

“I’m embarrassed, all right?”

“Why?”

“I’m not very dainty about crying.” Her brother used to tease her that she sounded like a drunken walrus when she wept.

“You’re not very dainty about coming, either, but hey, I’m not complaining.” He stood beside the bed. Rosie froze in the middle of blowing her nose.

Dear heaven, he was gorgeous.

He lifted his jeans from the floor, pulled his wallet from the back pocket, located a condom and, casual as you please, opened the package and put it on. Rosie bolted upright in fascination. She’d never seen an erection in a raincoat.