Read Online AWOL with the Operative by Jean Thomas - Free Book Online Page B

don’t have a clue what I was talking about. Wait, yes, I do. I was starting to tell you that we can’t possibly move on tonight, even with the moonlight.”
    “You’re right. We’ll spend the night here and then go on at first light.”
    Eve looked around her. “Right here?”
    “Sure. You were warm enough, weren’t you?” he said, indicating the depression in which he had buried her.
    “Actually, I was.”
    “Then you’ll be even warmer with me beside you.”
    The thought of him lying close beside her, sharing his body heat, was unsettling. It was also irresistible.
    “Come on,” he said, “help me widen and lengthen this thing.”
    It took them only a short time to scrape out enough pine needles to permit the excavation to accept both of them.
    “We’ll take off our coats,” he suggested, “and use them as blankets. A double layer over the both of us should be all we need to keep from freezing.”
    He was right. The cavity made a snug bed with them settled in it side by side, their shed coats covering them and the excess pine needles pulled in against their sides.
    Hand cupping her chin, he turned her face toward his. His mouth again descended on hers. This time, however, his kiss was not a fierce one. Nor a lengthy one. His lips against hers were feather-light but no less pleasant.
    A good-night kiss, she thought. She was wrong. Although his mouth left her, his hand did not. It slid under the coats and down to her breasts where he began to caress her soft, swollen flesh. Even with the barrier of her sweater and bra, Eve felt her nipples grow instantly hard. She couldn’t prevent the moan that escaped from her throat, nor her strangled plea that followed it.
    “What are you doing to me?”
    “Something I want you to like,” he whispered.
    His hand didn’t stop at her breasts. It went on, dropping to her belly, which he slowly circled. Only when he reached the waistband of her slacks did his hand pause, as if he were giving her time to understand and sanction his intention.
    Already in another daze, Eve didn’t understand. Not, anyway, until that skillful hand of his burrowed its way beneath her slacks, then her panties. She gasped when she felt the heat of his palm in direct contact now with her vulnerable flesh.
    Before she could object, or even decide whether she wanted to object, his hand dipped lower, his fingers stirring through the nest of curls at the juncture of her thighs.
    “Sam, this is—” She couldn’t get the words out.
    “Do you want me to stop? I’ll stop if you want me to.”
    No, she didn’t want him to stop. A mistake though this might be in every way, she didn’t want him to stop. He must have read her silent assent, because his probing fingers searched onward until he found the petals of her cleft. Gently, he parted those folds, inserting his middle finger inside the center of her being. She was already wet, her nub swollen and throbbing as he began to tenderly stroke her.
    Eve lost herself in a delirium of yearning, her need for release mounting, mounting. In the end, when the first spasms seized her, she bucked and arched upward, beyond all control as she rode wave after wave of indescribable pleasure.
    “You’re beautiful, angel,” he told her. “You’re beautiful in every way.”
    She was shaking, unable to respond until her body was at last quiet. “Sam, what about you? We haven’t…satisfied you.”
    “Not here. Not now. We’ll get to me later. We’ll save the best for both of us until then. That’s a promise.”
    He seemed so sure there would be a later . She wanted to believe that. Did believe it, even though that kind of thinking could end in grief for her.
    He had called her beautiful. Eve knew she was no better looking than scores of other women. But every woman liked to feel she was special in some way, and Sam made her feel just that. Special.
    On that satisfying note, secure in his embrace, warm and satiated as never before, she