But she’d take whatever she could get right now, and she was getting quite a lot. Bracing his hand on her hip, he stroked into her and out again in strong, steady movements, stoking the fires inside her until she thought she might burst into flames.
She wanted to do so much more than they were able to do in the confines of these covers. She wanted to explore his whole body, taste him, touch him, experiment with every possible position until they found their favorites, stretch her boundaries—and his—with their sensual play.
She concentrated on the feel of him inside her, moved with him, pressed against him, lifted her ass to let him deeper inside. He sped up, reaching with his hand to cup her breasts again, playing with them, squeezing her nipples until she hovered just on the edge of release.
Just as he stroked in one last time, just as Bella started over the edge, her mouth opening in a silent cry, Evan stilled, pulled out with a jerk, and turned away from her and adjusted the covers as if they’d suddenly been exposed to view. Bella, shocked and bereft, turned with him.
“What are you doing?” she hissed into his shoulder. He clamped a hand over her mouth.
“I heard something. Someone’s coming.”
She lay still, her heart pounding, the juncture between her legs aching with pent up desire. One more second and she would have had the orgasm of her life. Couldn’t whoever it was have waited just a little longer?
The seconds ticked by. Outside all was still. She was sure the beating of her heart was loud enough to wake the dead, but she couldn’t hear anything else. She let several more minutes go by and said, “I think they’re gone.”
She hoped Evan would pick up where he left off. He’d have to backtrack a little to get her to the peak she’d so rudely been yanked from, but it wouldn’t take much. Her whole body still tingled. Even her breasts ached for his touch.
“Shhh,” he said again. “I think there’s a new camera. A better one,” he whispered in a voice so low she could barely make out his words.
A new camera?
A better one?
What did that mean? Would her wanton behavior be broadcast all over the United States? Could it pick up her breathless moans and writhing body even under their covers?
“I was so close,” she whispered, hoping he’d have some idea how to finish things off. She couldn’t stop now—not like this—she’d never sleep a wink. He had to be in a similar situation.
His breathing slowed, evened out, and a few minutes later, she’d swear he’d gone to sleep.
How the hell could he sleep? Her entire body throbbed with need.
After several more minutes, Bella couldn’t stand it anymore. Evan obviously wasn’t going to come to her rescue, and his lack of follow-through was highly disappointing, to say the least. If he could roll over and fall asleep in the middle of one of the best sexual experiences of her life, he wasn’t the partner for her, no matter how much she wanted him.
Frustrated enough she wanted to scream, she slid her own hand down under the covers to touch herself. It was a far cry from Evan’s touch, but she knew she needed to relieve some of her pent up pressure if she was ever to sleep a wink tonight. She wriggled until her ass pressed up against Evan’s thigh and her back touched the length of Evan’s arm. It wasn’t much, but she used his solid presence to fuel her fantasies. She closed her eyes and swirled her fingers against herself, picturing Evan back in position behind her, plunging into her again with his strong, steady strokes. In her mind, he moved faster and faster, cupping her breasts as he pressed in and out. She experimented with other positions in her mind. Evan above her, his body covering hers, Evan beneath her, holding her waist while she rode him wild and fast. It didn’t matter what she imagined; it wasn’t as good as the real thing.
But it helped, and when she came, she bucked against her hand, the shudders wracking through her until she knocked against Evan’s thigh.
He slept through it all, and when she was done she hoped against hope that the camera hadn’t picked up any of it. She felt better, the tension drained out of her, but as she curled up and shut her eyes, she wondered how Evan could be so cold.
It occurred to her she really knew nothing about the billionaire who slept beside her. Last night she’d hoped she’d found the one man who could set her on fire, but now she feared their lovemaking was a fluke, and that by tomorrow night she’d be all alone again.
She settled down and closed her eyes, but it was a long time before she slept.
What a complete and colossal failure.
Evan watched Bella crawl from the tent the next morning, looking as beautiful as ever, if a little drawn and tired. She shot him a glance and made her way out of camp to take care of her morning rituals. Evan debated crawling right back inside that tent and making use of her absence to pound out a good one. He was hard as hell this morning, a fact he was trying desperately—and failing just as desperately—to hide in his usual pair of hiking pants.
Giving up, he made his own way out into the bush, crouched among a cover of bushes and went to town. He imagined Bella in every position he could want to have her—some probable, some as impossible as his current situation. Finally he came in a shuddering spasm, washed himself as best he could in the water from his drinking bottle, set things to rights and took the long way back to the camp.
Stopping mid-plunge last night was the hardest thing he’d ever done. Bella had been so close to coming, and he’d been right on her heels, but in a stupid attempt to leave her dazed and confused, and shake her confidence during the challenges to come today, he’d pulled out before the event’s conclusion. She’d certainly been confused, and she’d waited for some time to see what he’d do next, but when he’d pretended to fall asleep, she’d simply pleasured herself—and seemed to have a lot of fun doing it—and settled down to sleep.
Why hadn’t it occurred to him that she’d solve her problem all by herself, leaving him hanging—hard as a rock—through the rest of the night? Bella had gotten plenty of sleep, but he’d gotten practically none, and when he did doze off, he’d had x-rated dreams that woke him up again before he got any satisfaction in them, either.
He was a mess—physically, psychologically—but he was more determined than he’d ever been in his life. He planned to win this contest and marry Bella, and spend the next year screwing the daylights out of her.