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Authors: Amanda Usen

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BOOK: Impulse Control
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“So fucking sexy,” he whispered, nipping her lower lip.

Now the slight scrape of his beard was erotic, a sharp counterpoint to the softness of his touch. He kissed her neck, licking his way down to her breasts as his fingers slid inside her, creating pressure and building tension. She held her breath, catching the edge of a wave of pleasure, wondering if it would pull her under or toss her away, rejected. Darkness built, threatening her with old memories, and she sagged, wishing she could sink into the floor of the tent and disappear.

“Oh no, you don’t. No thinking.” He spoke against her breast, capturing her nipple with his teeth while his fingers set fire to her core. A cry burst from her throat, and she arched toward him, searching wildly for an anchor.

He lifted his head and caught her gaze. His hand moved faster, and the darkness receded. She tensed as the waves built, higher and tighter. She clung to his shoulders, unable to control her whimpers or the way she moved against his hand. This didn’t feel anything like the fast, short orgasms she’d had by herself. This was different. She felt his gaze on her body as intensely as his touch, and the unpredictable rhythm of his fingers and tongue kept her on the edge, carrying her higher. What was going to happen when she broke? What if she didn’t?

He smiled into her eyes and brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them. The unexpected eroticism stunned her, and when he touched her again, his fingers were wet and silky smooth, gliding over her, into her, firmly, with irresistible pressure. She snapped, clenching hard. Ecstasy spun through her, an almost painful surge of relief. He gazed down at her, making her feel as if he were eating up her every tiny response to his movement. He pressed harder, moved faster, and a cry burst from her lips. He crushed his mouth to hers, silencing her scream.


Satisfaction burst inside him as she surrendered. He had her now. No force on earth could stop the ripples against his fingers and the wetness soaking his palm. He kept moving, slowly driving her higher, wanting to make it the best she’d ever had. The best she would ever have. He wanted to possess her.

Her head slipped back and he caught it in the crook of his elbow, easing her down. She’d be sensitive now, but he knew how to let her arousal dip but not drop. He kept his hand right where it was and kissed her again, slowly coaxing a response from her. Her eyelids fluttered and then blinked wide.

When she opened her mouth to speak, he circled her clit with the tip of his finger, and she squeaked instead. He continued to touch her, watching thoughts cross her mind like dark clouds sailing through the night sky. She took a breath to speak again, and he slid a finger inside her.

Her words emerged as a choked gasp, and he grinned. He loved that he’d put that shattered look on her face, and he wanted to keep it there.

His mouth began to water. “A deal’s a deal, Susie.”

He withdrew his hand and rolled over her, keeping the weight of his upper body on his forearms and settling his legs between hers. Her aftershocks trembled against him, and he groaned. Not having a condom was a goddamn tragedy. Even with his briefs and thermals on, they were a perfect fit, and the need to join with her hammered at him so hard he saw stars.

This isn’t about you, asshole.
He gave himself one more second with the fantasy before he inched his way down her body.

He cupped her breasts with both hands, feasting on her nipples while slowly grinding his cock against her leg. He moved lower, nibbling on her belly button and smiling as she squirmed. Her warm scent filled the sleeping bag, making him move faster. He was dying to taste her, to fasten his lips on her center and become even more intimately connected to her pleasure. A part of him was afraid sinking his tongue into her would make him come in his shorts. He was so hard, so ready, it was a distinct possibility.

The sleeping bag was open, so he grabbed their shirts and her pants and draped them over her breasts. “I might be here a while. I don’t want you getting cold.”

“I don’t think I can…I’ve never…I mean I already—” Her hoarse whisper trailed off.

“I guess I’m going to have to work a little harder to make you stop thinking.” Deliberately he ran his tongue through her folds, reminding himself not to abrade her most delicate area with his roughness, even though he wanted to bury his face between her legs and drink her in. She tasted salty-sweet, and the hint of musk hit him right in the balls. She wasn’t primped and pressed, made up and perfumed for a night on the town with him. She’d climbed a mountain with him today. He groaned, barely able to hold himself back. Instead of rubbing his face against her like he wanted, he pressed her folds open for his tongue and carefully explored every inch of her. Above him, he could hear her panting. Her thighs tightened around him, and then her back arched. Her thighs opened wide. She fluttered against his tongue, and he was lost. He surged forward, spreading her, feasting on her. When she began to buck, he held her in place with one hand on her belly and slid two fingers of his other hand inside her, needing to feel her release.

Her spasms were intense, and he felt an echo in his balls as they drew tight. He ached to be inside her.
Not about you.
He locked every muscle in his body, waiting for the urgency to ebb. She pulled at him with desperate hands, but he resisted, afraid of what he’d do if he moved a single muscle.

“Please,” she begged, throwing off the clothes and tossing the sleeping bag wide open.

The cool air was a welcome distraction, but the sight of her nipples peaking in the cold made him clamp his eyes shut. “Susannah, I’m about one deep breath away from losing it. Gimme a second.”

“I want you to lose control.”

“No condom.” His voice sounded desperate even to his own ears.

“Then show me what else you like.”

His heart slammed. “Are you sure? After what you told me about your ex, I didn’t want to make you feel…you’re under zero obligation here.”

“You wanted to make me feel sexy, right?”

He nodded once, and even that slight movement made him feel desperate.

“Part of that is letting me see I turn you on.” Her gaze dropped to his obvious erection, stretching his thermals. “I left the tent this morning partly because I thought you would have made a play for any woman you woke up kissing. I don’t feel that way right now. Don’t worry—I’m not trying to make this something it isn’t, but please? Let me touch you.”

He’d never felt more vulnerable in his life as he slid up beside her, which was ridiculous considering some of the situations he’d faced. Merciless storms, deadly animals, and tropical diseases were less terrifying than letting her see how greatly she affected him. “Not gonna take much, sweetheart. You drive me crazy.”

Her smile lit up the tent, and he knew he’d let her do anything she wanted if it put that look on her face. He thrust his boxers and thermals over his knees.

She flushed. “Tell me what to do.”

Her eyes widened and uncertainty tightened her expression, so he zipped the bag into a tight cocoon around them. “I’m guessing by the look on your face the ex was a wham, bam, thank you ma’am kind of guy.”

“Minus the thank you.”

He took her hand and guided it to his cock. She wrapped her fingers around him, and he moved her hand up and down. Hot urgency rolled through him with the force of a hurricane. He bit his lip and then leaned forward and bit hers, combining the exquisite pleasure of her tentative touch with the yielding of her mouth to his.

Their hands were smashed between their bodies, creating a tight cradle for his cock. He lifted his head, sensing the moment of no return approaching. “You sure?” he gasped.

Her only answer was to tighten her grip. He moved his hand to cup her skull, so he could enjoy the feel of her hand alone pumping him. He felt his release coming and buried his face in her neck. He kept thrusting, driven beyond all thought by the need in his blood and the exquisite softness of her body.

When he could breathe again, he took her mouth, seeking to communicate without words how much she’d pleased him. Wetness slid between them, and he lifted his head. “I probably should have thought about the mess before I became incapable of thought.”

Her sexy grin was unlike anything he’d seen from her. “You may not be a Boy Scout, but I came prepared.” She wriggled carefully, reaching one hand above to her pack. Her breast nudged his cheek, so he licked it. “Hey, I’m trying to do something here,” she said.

He chuckled, holding still. When she eased back into place beside him, she had a flat plastic package in her hand.

“Baby wipes?” He felt something come unmoored inside him while she deftly cleaned up the mess, but he was too tired to tie it back up. The soothing scent of lavender drifted between them. “You never cease to amaze me.”

He dragged his thermals up over his hips, just in case they woke up like they had yesterday morning, and then tucked her in front of him. This time he didn’t resist the urge to cup her full breast, and contentment spread through him when she entwined her fingers with his. He slid toward sleep.

Chapter Six

Susannah opened the front door and rushed inside, eager to see Billy. She found him in the kitchen rearranging the disposable plastic containers while Holly sat, phone in hand, beside him on the floor.

He squealed and dived for Susannah’s leg, and she picked him up and held him tight as he burst into tears. Susannah’s eyes welled, too. “I missed you so much, little man.” She pressed her lips to his forehead, delighted his fever was gone.

“I swear he was fine until this very second,” Holly said.

“I believe you, but it’s good to know he missed me. Thank you so much for taking care of him. I owe you margaritas for life for this.”

“It was fun, but can you make the first margarita now?” Holly stood to give her a hug. When she pulled away, she wrinkled her nose. “Maybe you should shower first.”

“An excellent idea.” She avoided Holly’s gaze. “I don’t suppose I could talk you into playing babysitter for another fifteen minutes while I take a quick rinse?”

“Not until you give me the inside scoop on this.” Holly held up her phone. “
At Home in the Wild
is trending, and I’m a little hurt I wasn’t the first to know you two hit it off. It was my idea after all.”

Susannah peered around Billy’s head to focus on the screen. It was a picture of Russ gesturing at his crotch where an obvious erection tented his snow pants. In the background, Susannah tromped away from him on snowshoes. The warm bubble that had carried her back home burst, and ice slid down her spine.

For a second, she struggled to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe the shot had been taken before anything happened between them. Then she realized it didn’t matter. He was clowning behind her back and clearly making fun of her. Last night had been so amazing she’d hoped…but no. She was just a challenge to him after all. “My butt looks huge.”

“Your butt looks awesome. I assume that’s why his crotch looks huge. Did you and the Wild Man…get wild?”

Susannah nodded miserably. “Sort of.”

Holly cocked her head to the side. “That is so not the expression I was expecting him to put on your face. I’m not sure I want to hear this story if it’s going to kill my fantasies of what Russ Donovan is like in bed.”

Susannah snorted. “Your fantasies are safe. It was amazing. Total sex god.”

“Then why do you look so woebegone?”

“Because I’m me, damn it.” She shifted Billy higher on her hip. “I’m not a player. I’m little Susie Homemaker, and I spent the drive home thinking of what I might cook him for dinner. He didn’t make any promises, and I knew what I was doing…but still. I wasn’t expecting to have it thrown in my face so fast.”

After they’d awakened this morning to Stan banging pots and pans outside the door of the tent, they’d hustled into their clothes before he decided to unzip it and start filming. They’d spent every subsequent moment on camera and hadn’t had a chance to talk until they’d said a rushed good-bye. Both of their drivers were waiting, hers to drive her back home, his to take him to the airport. “Washington, huh?” she’d asked.

His expression was grim. “Charity function.”

Puzzle pieces fell into place. “Lance’s charity? The reason you agreed to do the show?”

“Biggest fund-raiser of the year.” He took her hand. “This might be an odd question, considering, but can I have your number?” Her pulse jumped and then dipped as he added, “In case we need to coordinate details for the next show.”

“Of course.” She’d extracted a business card from her purse and handed it to him. “Take care, Wild Man.”

He’d kissed her cheek. “You, too, Susie.”

Then he was gone, striding toward his car, leaving her breathless.

Holly put her arm around Susannah’s shoulders, startling her out of her reverie. “A shower will help. Talking will help, too, and not just because I want all the dirty details. You and the Wild Man still have the second show to film, and I think it’s the ideal opportunity for a little payback.” She led Susannah out of the kitchen. “Plus, I met the perfect guy for you this weekend.”

“How did you meet a guy this weekend?” Susannah’s arms tightened around Billy as they started up the stairs. “Please tell me you didn’t take Billy out on a date.”

“I took him to the grocery store. You know I always pick the wrong line. We ended up behind an old lady insisting her expired coupon wasn’t expired. The cashier must have been new because thirty cents wasn’t worth holding up the line, but I already had my stuff on the conveyor belt. Billy started trying to climb out of the cart, and I turned around to give the guy behind me hell for crowding me, but after I got a look at the wide variety of mysterious produce in his cart, I chatted him up instead. It isn’t every day that a banker whose idea of a wild Saturday night is throwing an impromptu dinner party drops into your lap…or runs his cart into your ankles.”

“How did you know he was a banker?”

“He was wearing one of those magnetic nameplates with the M&B Bank logo on it. I gave him your number.”

“You did what?” Susannah tripped on the top step.

“He’s dying to meet you. Apparently, he’s a big fan of the show.” Holly snickered and plucked Billy out of her arms. “You shower. I’ll get this guy ready for bed. After you put him down, I want to hear every ‘sort of’ detail about your weekend.”

“Please tell me you’re kidding about the banker.”

“Nope, ask Billy. I’ve got a witness.”

Susannah jumped as her phone buzzed in her pocket.

Holly grinned. “That could be him.”

She didn’t recognize the number, so she let it go to voicemail. “I’m going to kill you.”

“Stop it—the banker looks like Clark Kent, and he can cook. You’ll thank me when you meet him.”

“He’s probably a total wacko.”

“Wackos don’t buy fresh vegetables. They buy garbage bags, duct tape, and microwavable dinners.”

Susannah shut the bathroom door on Holly’s giggle and looked into the mirror. “Oh God.”

Her hair was flat and obviously in need of washing. Her face was pale except where the sunglasses had left her nose exposed to the winter sun. She’d completely forgotten about the lip balm in her backpack, so her lips were chapped. She looked like hell. No wonder Russ had raced for the car.

She sighed and pressed her hands to her face.
Good riddance.
She turned on the shower, stripped, and climbed under the spray. As soon as she got out of the shower, she’d do an Internet search. If
At Home in the Wild
was trending, there had to be more than just one picture. She should probably call her publicist, too. Her response needed to be professional, no matter how she felt on a personal level.

She turned her face to the water and winced as the tender spots on her neck, where his beard had scraped her, began to sting. Heat lit up her breasts and belly, and she rested her forehead against the tile as memories washed over her.

She felt different today. On the first day of the trip, she’d been exhausted. She’d dreaded every challenge she might face. Today she was tired, but she also felt a spark deep inside that felt like…pride? She’d climbed a mountain. She’d survived a weekend that could have been a catastrophe. No, not just survived—she’d thrived.

The past few years had left her with more than physical scars, but for the first time she had the energy to get past them. Donovan’s words and actions, no matter what had motivated them, had inspired her. He’d led her up and down a mountain, and then he’d carried her past her inhibitions and made her feel desired. She was grateful to him for what he’d done, despite how little it had meant to him. But her heart ached, too.

She was going to give herself the span of this shower to get over it. She was home. Billy needed her. She was filming her regular show this week and planning her part of
At Home in the Wild
for next month. Her pulse raced at the thought of seeing Donovan again, of having him in her house. Would it be awkward?

Not for him. His sexual sophistication was so far beyond hers they barely shared a frame of reference. He probably had a DC socialite on his arm already. No doubt she’d see him walk off into the sunset with another exotic beauty when she watched his show this week. Her world had shifted and was still quaking, but his was back to business as usual. And that was fine. Mostly.

She reached for the shampoo.

Facing reality and being fine with it was all well and good, but she was still human. She couldn’t have climbed a mountain without him, but gratitude only went so far. She was angry about that wretched picture. How would Russ feel if she dragged him out of his comfort zone and clowned behind his back?

Two could play his little game. She rinsed the suds out of her hair and began to plan her moves.


Russ sank farther down in his first-class seat and tried to fall asleep. Every time he began to relax his thoughts drifted to Susannah and he awoke, aroused. It was starting to get embarrassing.

Stan dropped into the seat next to him. “Are you feeling all right, buddy?”

“Fine. Just tired.”

“You? That’s a first.” Stan shot him a disbelieving look and then grinned. “Oh, I get it.”

The back of Russ’s neck prickled, and he turned to look at Stan. “Get what?”

“Your Wild Woman wore you out. Good for you.”

“I think you’ve got the wrong idea, man. Nothing happened.” He didn’t know why, but the lie felt right.

Stan snorted. “Nice try. The network loved the shots I sent. They had to leak the frozen hard-on pic, since it wasn’t exactly squeaky-clean material, but as far as Media Life Networks is concerned, you’ve got yourself a frosty girlfriend. The buzz is awesome.”

Russ rubbed his face and groaned. “Oh shit. I forgot I did that.”

“And the look on your face when you taped the tent cam was priceless. You looked determined as hell.”

His prickle became a buzz, making every nerve scream. “How did you see that?”

“It was streaming, buddy. I explained that to you before we left.”

But he’d been too busy thinking about Susannah changing clothes and picturing her in sleek snow gear to pay attention. His heart stuttered and then raced, shooting adrenaline into his veins. “What did you get after I taped the lens?”

“Just sound.”

“Clear?”

“As a bell.”

He swallowed the sickening shards in his throat. “And after I took the camera down?”

“Nothing.”

“Thank God for small mercies.”

“You honestly didn’t know?” To his credit, Stan looked as appalled as Russ felt. “Since you disabled the camera, I figured…”

Russ shook his head, glad Stan was flying down with him to take pictures for the website or he might not have found out about this in time to do damage control. “And I know damn well Susannah didn’t, either. There’s going to be hell to pay. You better show me what’s out there.”

As soon as the plane landed, he called Susannah, but he wasn’t surprised when she didn’t answer. Sharp waves of need pulsed through him at the sound of her recorded voice.

Keeping his mind off last night had been a losing battle. Her low cries rang in his ears. He could taste her surrender, smell the scent of apples and woodsmoke, and feel her soft skin under his hands. Susannah wasn’t his kind of woman, and he wasn’t her kind of man…but damn, last night had been hot. He forced his thoughts back to their problem.

Now he was glad he’d gotten her number, even though he’d regretted the impulsive request as soon as he’d seen the wary look in her eyes. He knew exactly where he fit in Susie’s world. One night, no more. She’d been very clear about wanting stability in her life, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever stop wondering what it would have been like to make love to her. Touching her with his mouth and fingers had been almost as intimate as sex, but he wanted inside. He wanted to show her the rest of the road…but it wasn’t going to happen.

I’d rather hike through hell than have you see me naked
had been blasted across every social media site, and if Susannah had seen or heard any of the clips from their weekend, she was probably devising ways to kill him. The entire focus of the show had shifted to their personal relationship and, like it or not, the TV world thought they were an item. This was exactly what he’d feared when he told Bergman he didn’t want his image tied to Susie Homemaker, but the photos and sound bites made them look like a hot couple.

Maybe this wasn’t the worst thing for either of them. Would Susannah be up for making lemonade from their lemons? Only one way to find out.

Russ logged on to his web page and updated his status.
Missing my Wild Woman already.
He added an image of a tiger and tagged her. She might be able to ignore his calls, but she wouldn’t be able to hide from a public challenge. Or several. He laughed softly to himself as he began scheduling posts.

BOOK: Impulse Control
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