chest naked and the muscles rippling. The moon glowed on the bronze of his flesh, the harsh constriction in his features. His eyes seemed to blaze gold, searing her. âKathy!â he began, then fell silent. Then he groaned as his fingers moved into her hairâ¦and he was kissing her.
Not as he had kissed her earlier. Not lightly, not tauntingly. But with hunger, raw and ravenous. Openmouthed, his lips moved upon hers, wet, hot, eliciting. His tongue swept her mouth, thrust, demanded, tasted and thrust even deeper. Then he drew away and his lips touched her face. His tongue rimmed her lips before slipping inside her mouth again, so deeply that the heat and fever spread throughout her body. His fingers were in her hair, but there was no pain, even though he held her so tautly because of his need. She didnât want to touch himâ¦but her fingers were upon his shoulders.
She didnât want to feel the warmth of his body, didnât want to recognize the length of it, the hardness of his thighs, the tautness of his bellyâ¦the bulge of his desire. She didnât want to feel the overwhelming urge, the fire, the desperation to have him at the cost of peace and sanity and life itself.
She didnât want toâ¦
His lips rose above hers just a fraction of an inch. She touched them delicately with her tongue, encircling them, nipping lightly. He held still to her gentle assault, then swept his arms around her. Once again their mouths melded and the tasting and sweeping and hunger were shared. When they broke apart again, his hold on her hair eased, but the tension in him seemed even greater, explosive, anguished. His breath fanning her cheeks, he whispered, âKathy, I didnât mean it to come to this. The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt you again. And by God, I sure as hell didnât want to do this to myself!â
She lay still, thinking that he couldnât mean it, that he couldnât manage to walk away now. The kiss was a mistake, but sheâd live with the mistake, she swore silently. Sheâd live with the agony of all the tomorrowsâ¦
If she could just have this moment beneath the black velvet darkness of the sky and the ethereal glow of the silver full moon.
He was standing, reaching down to her, helping her to her feet. She stared at him, her fingers still entwined with his, her lips swollen and soft and wet from the kiss.
âBrent!â She whispered his name. He didnât speak, and his eyes remained hard upon hers. âItâs a mistake, I know itâs a mistake.â¦â Her voice trailed away miserably. She knew him still, knew him so well. But he wasnât hers anymore, and she wondered if his desire was great enough, if she could seduce him, if she wasnât making a fool of herself again.
âWhat, Kathy, what?â His voice was nearly a growl, his words fraught with tension.
She shook her head and tried to whisper more softly. âItâs a mistake, butâ¦maybe itâs not a mistake. Maybe we can just touch and then let go. I mean by the light of day we can turn aside, we can see all the truths, we can know that itâs over, that we canât take the pain again. But I was just thinking that tonightâ¦â
She freed her fingers from his. She couldnât go on any longer, not without some help. She stepped back and turned around, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, her back to him.
He was silent. She felt the cool night breeze sweep around her and heard its soft whisper. She listened to the gentle lapping of the water against the hull of the boat.
Then he stepped toward her, and she felt his hands upon her shoulders.
The terry robe that had never seemed much of a barrier went sliding to the deck at her feet, and she felt the searing fire of his lips against her naked shoulder.
Chapter 4
Kathy caught her breath as she felt the touch of the night breeze combine with the caress of his kiss against her flesh.
Peter Lovesey
OBE Michael Nicholson
Come a Little Closer
Linda Lael Miller
Dana Delamar
Adrianne Byrd
Lee Collins
William W. Johnstone
Josie Brown
Mary Wine