Explosive

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Authors: Beth Kery
Tags: Fiction, General, Romance, Contemporary, Adult
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shell of her ear. She was so delicate . . . so exquisite.
    He felt like swine when his cock tightened.
    “Abel was my godson, you know,” he murmured distractedly as he stroked her. “He was ten years old. I was teaching him how to water-ski. Rick and he were going to be picking me up at Diversey Harbor on that day. They never came.”
    She didn’t reply but she placed her hand over his heart. Her simple gesture made something dangerous swell in his chest.
    “I should go,” he said roughly.
    “Where?”
    The sharpness of her query made him blink. She probably thought he was abandoning her after he’d just fucked her like a madman.
    “Can I see you . . . later tonight?” he asked.
    “Come with me now, Thomas.”
    A trickle of unease went through him. She’d sounded soft, but the thread of steel in her tone confused him.
    “Listen . . . I know how strange the way I’m acting must seem to you,” he tried to explain. “You must be thinking I’m a real asshole for busting in here and making love to you so . . . forcefully for the first time while you were bent over a desk.”
    She paled and her mouth dropped open. She looked stunned, but he rushed ahead, needing to tell her this. Jesus. Here stood a woman who likely had an IQ that would put him to shame, forget about the body of a Venus, and look how he was treating her? He rushed ahead anxiously, trying to explain, even when he himself couldn’t understand what the hell he was doing.
    “I’m not trying to get away from you, Sophie. I’m just . . . something . . . something’s happened.”
    Her expressive, dark eyes made him want to relent, to stay there with her, to forget all the horror and chaos that was his life.
    “But I need to go and have a look at those books at Mannero, Inc. I need to know what I’m dealing with as far as this FBI investigation,” he finished regretfully.
    For a split second, he saw panic flicker across her flushed face. “Thomas, don’t go there. Please. You . . . you need to rest. You’re not well.”
    He brushed his thumb across her cheek and attempted a smile. “Is that your professional opinion?”
    “ Yes . I don’t think you should go. Come with me now. I’ll make you dinner at my condominium. We’ll talk . . . or . . . or not, if you don’t want to.”
    He leaned down and kissed her opened lips, lingering when he caught her taste on his searching tongue. He felt guilty. She sounded so worried . . .
    After a moment, he lifted his head reluctantly. He’d be a liar if he said he wasn’t fantasizing about having her yet again . . . taking her in another fevered frenzy. He’d heard death could heighten the sexual instinct. People needed to feel alive in the midst of their anguish . . . to celebrate the fullness of existence when death hovered and beckoned into the void.
    Thomas now knew firsthand how true it was.
    “Tell me your address,” he muttered as he nudged her middle with his once again stiff cock before he backed away, depriving himself. At least for a while. His body was far from being done celebrating Sophie Gable’s vibrant existence. Next time, he’d take it slow. Now that he’d consumed her, next time he’d savor her.
    If he could get a handle on himself, anyway.
    He nodded when she said her Gold Coast address. He’d remember, even if his concentration hadn’t been that great for the past several days . . . even if the past few days had been a strange collage of too-bright, vivid images and darkness. Thomas didn’t forget numbers.
    “I’ll meet you at your place in a few hours. I promise . No one and nothing is going to keep me away from a second time, Sophie.”
    A shadow flickered across her beautiful face, but Thomas determinedly levered his body away from hers.

    He hadn’t remembered .
    The thought kept replaying like a skipped record over and over again in her brain as she locked up her office after Thomas left. He hadn’t remembered last night . . . hadn’t remembered making love to

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