Breaking Free: A Colorado High Country Crossover Novel, Pamela Clare [i can read book club .TXT] 📗

he had to spend an hour with his manly bits in a bowl of milk—which, by the way, is not an image I needed in my mind.”

“Ouch.” Jason winced at the thought of dick-burn and picked the jalapeños off his burrito, leaving them uneaten. “Okay. Agreed. No jalapeños.”

He thought about it for a moment. “Wait. Does this mean you’ve got something specific in mind for later, angel?”

He certainly did.

Chapter 16

Winona and Jason ate their supper at Winona’s kitchen table, talking about everything and nothing. Their shared experience at the Cimarron. How Winona and Chaska had learned to ski. Jason’s first memory of snow.

“I must have been four.” There was a hint of sadness in his smile as he spoke, his hand taking hers. “My mother woke me up early and told me there was snow outside. I had no idea what she meant. I remember her putting a little snowball in my hand. I dropped it because it was so cold. That made her laugh. Then, I discovered that my shoes made prints in this cold, white stuff, so I stomped all over the place.”

Winona smiled, imagining Jason as a tiny child. “You were learning to track already. I bet you were adorable.”

He slipped a hand into his rear jeans pocket, pulled out a leather billfold, and took out a small photo. “This is the only photo I have of my entire family.”

Winona took the photo from him. Three generations stood together beneath some kind of awning made of branches, smiles on their faces, giant saguaros in the background. Jason, the youngest, stood in front of his mother, a bright smile on his face, his mother’s hands resting on his shoulders. “How old are you here?”

“Six or seven.”

“You are adorable.” Winona’s heart broke for that little boy, knowing what lay ahead. “Your mother was beautiful. You have her eyes.”

“That’s what everyone tells me.” He took the photo when she finished with it and tucked it back into his wallet. “I’ve tried seeing her when I look in the mirror, but it doesn’t work.”

Winona stood, held out her hand for him. “Come.”

He took her hand, stood. “Where are we going?”

She led him into the bathroom. “I smell like a wet, dirty wolfdog. I need a shower. I thought maybe you could help me out with that.”

He caught her, drew her against him, nuzzled her neck. “You smell like woman to me, but the idea of getting your body wet and soapy suits me just fine.”

They stripped each other naked and got the water going, Winona making sure it was nice and hot. Then they stepped under the spray together.

Winona wet her hair and reached for the shampoo, but Jason beat her to it.

“Turn around.”

She did as he asked, sighing with pleasure as his fingers massaged her scalp and caressed her nape, sending tingles down her spine. While she rinsed, he washed his hair. Then she reached for the soap.

They lathered each other, hands gliding over soap-slick skin, each seeking ways to please the other. He cupped her breasts, teased her nipples, caressed her bare buttocks, making her blood hot. She explored the planes and ridges of his muscles, took the weight of his testicles in her hand, stroked his erection, her need for him building.

Hot water rinsed soap away, the air thick with steam and sexual need, her skin tingling. Then she traded places with him, looked him in the eyes, and dropped to her knees before him.

His breath hissed from between clenched teeth when she took him into her mouth, his fingers sliding into the tangled, wet strands of her hair. “Win.”

She’d learned a bit about him, and she put it to good use, moving her mouth and hand together along his length, teasing the head of his cock with her tongue, her free hand cupping his balls.

“Jesus, Win.” His fingers fisted in her hair, his hips thrusting, urging her on.

In tune with his response, she picked up the pace, savoring the hard feel of him, remembering how good his cock had felt inside her. His balls drew tight, a sign that he was close to the edge now.

“Stop, angel.” He shut off the water, drew Winona to her feet. “My turn.”

Anticipation shivered through her as she wondered what came next.

He stepped out of the tub and scooped her into his arms, making her shriek with surprise. He chuckled. “I’ve got you.”

He carried her, wet and naked, across the hall to his room, where he dropped her onto his bed. Before she could catch her breath, he grasped her ankles, dragged her butt to the edge, pushed her knees apart. “I want to taste you.”

Winona started to tell him that this had never done anything for her when his mouth closed over her. “Oh!”

This was … different. This wasn’t like anything a man had done to her before, and it felt so… incredibly … good.

He suckled her clit just like he’d suckled her nipples, tugging on her with his lips, drawing her into the heat of his mouth, stroking her with his tongue.

She slid her fingers into his hair, drew her knees back, surrendering herself wholly, barely aware of the moans coming from her throat. “Jaaaa-son.”

Then he slid fingers inside her, stroking that deep ache, pleasure twisting in her belly, coiling itself tighter and tighter. But still, he didn’t stop, his mouth and fingers merciless. He gave her no quarter, no chance to breathe, her body buffeted by sensations almost too good to bear.

And then she shattered, climax washing through her, engulfing her in bliss.

He kept it up until her orgasm had passed. Then he grabbed a condom, rolled it over his erection, and buried himself inside her with a deep, slow thrust, his mouth claiming hers, his tongue carrying her musky taste into her mouth.

He took his time, slowly building up the rhythm, giving her a chance to grow aroused again, his mouth on her nipples, his deep thrusts bringing her to the edge once more. But this