Alone With You (Cabin Fever Series Book 1)

now, to peel the cotton off her beautiful body and let her shirt flutter to the grass. He needed to see the hot-blooded woman he’d slept with last night, to make sure she still existed. Would she be as willing and eager as before John had shown up to throw a bucket of ice water on their morning? Or had Logan just dreamed the whole night?
Jenny shot up from the chair and lunged into his arms, the warm globes of her breasts molding against his chest. He found her lips and the kiss shot off sparks like one of those sparkling things kids lit for the Fourth of July. With one bend of a knee, he could drop her with him to the clover and make quick work of her shorts. With sunlight bright on her curved little belly, he could pull out the foil packet he’d tucked in his back pocket, roll on the condom, and let nature take its course. But his knee stiffened as he caught a glance of John’s baseball cap discarded on the lounge chair. His prankster of a friend could return any minute, claim he’d forgotten his favorite hat, and Logan would be hard-pressed not to punch the guy if he interrupted again, or caught a glimpse of Jenny in her naked glory.
Instead, he tugged her toward the cabin by the waistband of her shorts, walking backwards to drink in the soft look on her face, the fullness of her breasts, the lace bra that barely covered her pale nipples. She laughed low in her throat as he urged her up the stairs to the deck, then opened the door behind him, pulling her into the shadows of the kitchen. Once she cleared the door, he nudged it behind her and then pressed her into its back until it slammed closed.
Her eyes narrowed and darkened with the potency of single-malt scotch. He buried his lips in her hair, sucked in the scent of the strawberry shampoo she’d left on the ledge of the bathtub when he’d gone to retrieve the condoms in the lower drawer. They’d share that shower later. He would run a slippery bar of soap over her bare wet skin and against every soft crevice.
Finding her mouth again, he sucked her lips between his, and then sought her warm tongue. A hundred ways he would make love to this woman in the week to come. He’d lay a blanket in the backyard to see how moonlight lit the curve of her back. He’d stretch her out in front of the fireplace and use his knees to push her legs open. He’d drop his head between her thighs in the flatbed of his Ford until she scraped her fingers against the cool metal. And he’d take her right here, right now, against this kitchen door, and watched the last of the ice melt in her eyes.
His hand between them, he flicked open the button of her shorts. The zipper split against his knuckles as he thrust his hand down, burrowing under the edge of her panties, through the softness of the hair at the juncture of her thighs, and further, to slip his fingers into her cleft.
She moaned as her whole body flexed, and the sound sent blood rushing to his cock. He rubbed the moistness between her legs as the heat intensified against his fingers. Vibrations shuddered through her. His erection strained against his shorts, rock-hard, but he fed on the sounds she was making as he slipped his fingers deeper between her legs. He slowly plunged up, inside her, curling his finger in a beckoning motion to stimulate the interior root of her clitoris.
She gasped as he found her G spot. He concentrated his efforts and she cried out again. She was so sensitive here, so responsive. He’d noticed it last night and had filed away that secret of her body. Now watching her eyes squeeze shut was the hottest thing he’d ever seen. Her body quivered and her sex squeezed every more tightly around his fingers. He sensed how close she was to orgasm already, and considered slowing down, pulling his fingers out, replacing them with his straining cock, but she wasn’t wearing a diaphragm this time. If he stopped now, he’d have to strip down, rip open the condom, let go of her to roll it on…but he was so tight around him, on the very edge of release, and he loved the way that felt. He tasted the thin sheen of sweat on her temple, felt the pounding of her pulse against his mouth. Right now, he wanted to give her exactly what she needed and watch the look on her face as he did.
She was flushed with exhilaration, her lips wet, her eyes half-closed. A sense of primitive power surged through him as he stimulated this beauty into losing control.
“Hold onto me, Jenny.” He increased the pressure of his fingertips and rubbed in little circles. “I want to feel you—“
“Logan!”
Her muscles clenched against his fingers. She arched her neck, pressed her head back against the kitchen door, as her body tightened in a powerful orgasm. He kept stroking, urging the contractions on, extending the length of her pleasure as his cock strained against her. Her moaning intensified in the bliss, unfiltered and exuberant. He rued the moment when the contractions began to slow in frequency, as her body clenched him with less strength. Then she blinked open her eyes and looked at him, breathing hard. Wet tendrils of hair lay across her jaw and chin, but her eyes had gone as soft as melted caramel.
He slipped his fingers out of her core and removed his hand from her shorts. With his fingers, wet with her natural lubrication, he traced a circle around her navel. The scent of her arousal teased him. She looked as if she were trying to say something, but couldn’t find her tongue. The only sound in the kitchen was their harsh breathing,