Read Online If Winter Comes by Diana Palmer - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Diana Palmer
Tags: Fiction, General, Romance, Contemporary, Adult, Love Stories, Journalists, Large Type Books, Mayors, Embezzlement
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she
whispered.
“I may touch you,” he
murmured sensuously. His mouth brushed lazily, warmly, at her throat, while his
big hands worked some magic on her back through the sweater. “Like this.” He
eased his hands underneath it, against the silken young flesh of her bare back.
“And this,” he added, sweeping his hands up to her shoulder blades, discovering
for himself that she was wearing nothing under the sweater.
“No…” she whispered
unsteadily, a protest that sounded more like a moan.
His thumbs edged out
under her arms, brushing against flesh that had never known a man’s hands, and
she caught her breath at the sensations it fostered.
“I want to love you,”
he said softly. He eased her back on the rug, with her head and shoulders
against the pillow, letting his hands move very gently on her rib cage in a
silence burning with emotions.
“Bryan…” she whispered
achingly.
He bent, and his mouth
parted slightly as it touched hers in soft, slow movements. It was torture, the
teasing, brushing touch of his mouth and hands, a delicious torment that made
her heart beat violently against the walls of her chest. She had never wanted
anything as desperately as she now wantedBryan , and in a fever of wanting, she
heard her own voice shatter as she cried out for his touch.
His mouth took hers
violently, hungrily, pressing her head deep into the pillow while his hands
taught her sensations so exquisite, she arched submissively toward them.
Once her eyes slid open
to look up into his, and he smiled at the awe and emotion in them—a smile that
was strangely tender and soft with triumph.
He drew her own hands
to the buttons of his shirt and watched while she undid them, clumsily, because
she was shaking from the lazy caresses of his deft hands.
“Here,” he said
quietly, drawing her mouth to his chest. “Like this. Hard, honey, hard!” he
whispered huskily as her mouth brushed against the warm flesh that smelled of
spice and soap.
She reached up to draw
his mouth back down to hers and felt a shudder run through him as his body
moved over hers in a way that was pleasure beyond bearing.
He hurt her mouth,
bruised it, as all his hard control seemed to disappear at her yielding. He
drew back suddenly, and his dark eyes were smouldering with hunger as they
looked down into hers.
“I want you like hell,”
he said in a rough whisper. “Another minute of this and I’m going to take you.
Is that what you want, Carla?”
Sanity came back in a
blazing rush. She gasped at the emotions that lay raw and bruised at the
harshness of his statement.
“No,” she said shakily.
“No, it isn’t.Bryan , I’m sorry…”
He rolled away from her
and got to his feet. He went straight to the bar and poured himself a large
whiskey, downing it before he lit a cigarette—all without looking at her.
She pulled down her
sweater and got to her feet, her tongue gingerly touching her bruised mouth.
She felt vaguely ashamed at her abandon, and as she stared at his broad back,
she couldn’t help wondering if he thought she was like this with other men. In
fact, she’d never let any man touch her like that. She was at a loss to explain
why it had seemed so right whenBryan had done it. Her face flamed at the memory.
“I’ll take you home,”
he said coldly. “Get your coat.”
“Bryan…” she began
apologetically.
He turned, and his eyes
were blazing. “Get your damned coat,” he said, in a voice that froze her.
Fighting tears, she
gathered her possessions and followed him out to the car.
Six
S he went around in a
brown mood for the next week, alternately crying and cursing her own stupidity
for getting herself emotionally involved with a man who only wanted one thing
of her.
In between the tears,
she waited vainly for the phone to ring, jumping every time it trilled, only to
find some routine caller on the
whispered.
“I may touch you,” he
murmured sensuously. His mouth brushed lazily, warmly, at her throat, while his
big hands worked some magic on her back through the sweater. “Like this.” He
eased his hands underneath it, against the silken young flesh of her bare back.
“And this,” he added, sweeping his hands up to her shoulder blades, discovering
for himself that she was wearing nothing under the sweater.
“No…” she whispered
unsteadily, a protest that sounded more like a moan.
His thumbs edged out
under her arms, brushing against flesh that had never known a man’s hands, and
she caught her breath at the sensations it fostered.
“I want to love you,”
he said softly. He eased her back on the rug, with her head and shoulders
against the pillow, letting his hands move very gently on her rib cage in a
silence burning with emotions.
“Bryan…” she whispered
achingly.
He bent, and his mouth
parted slightly as it touched hers in soft, slow movements. It was torture, the
teasing, brushing touch of his mouth and hands, a delicious torment that made
her heart beat violently against the walls of her chest. She had never wanted
anything as desperately as she now wantedBryan , and in a fever of wanting, she
heard her own voice shatter as she cried out for his touch.
His mouth took hers
violently, hungrily, pressing her head deep into the pillow while his hands
taught her sensations so exquisite, she arched submissively toward them.
Once her eyes slid open
to look up into his, and he smiled at the awe and emotion in them—a smile that
was strangely tender and soft with triumph.
He drew her own hands
to the buttons of his shirt and watched while she undid them, clumsily, because
she was shaking from the lazy caresses of his deft hands.
“Here,” he said
quietly, drawing her mouth to his chest. “Like this. Hard, honey, hard!” he
whispered huskily as her mouth brushed against the warm flesh that smelled of
spice and soap.
She reached up to draw
his mouth back down to hers and felt a shudder run through him as his body
moved over hers in a way that was pleasure beyond bearing.
He hurt her mouth,
bruised it, as all his hard control seemed to disappear at her yielding. He
drew back suddenly, and his dark eyes were smouldering with hunger as they
looked down into hers.
“I want you like hell,”
he said in a rough whisper. “Another minute of this and I’m going to take you.
Is that what you want, Carla?”
Sanity came back in a
blazing rush. She gasped at the emotions that lay raw and bruised at the
harshness of his statement.
“No,” she said shakily.
“No, it isn’t.Bryan , I’m sorry…”
He rolled away from her
and got to his feet. He went straight to the bar and poured himself a large
whiskey, downing it before he lit a cigarette—all without looking at her.
She pulled down her
sweater and got to her feet, her tongue gingerly touching her bruised mouth.
She felt vaguely ashamed at her abandon, and as she stared at his broad back,
she couldn’t help wondering if he thought she was like this with other men. In
fact, she’d never let any man touch her like that. She was at a loss to explain
why it had seemed so right whenBryan had done it. Her face flamed at the memory.
“I’ll take you home,”
he said coldly. “Get your coat.”
“Bryan…” she began
apologetically.
He turned, and his eyes
were blazing. “Get your damned coat,” he said, in a voice that froze her.
Fighting tears, she
gathered her possessions and followed him out to the car.
Six
S he went around in a
brown mood for the next week, alternately crying and cursing her own stupidity
for getting herself emotionally involved with a man who only wanted one thing
of her.
In between the tears,
she waited vainly for the phone to ring, jumping every time it trilled, only to
find some routine caller on the
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