breast to chest. Close. So close she felt his heart beating, its tempo strong and fast. Familiar yet exciting. Alive.
Her nipples tightened at the contact with his hard, unyielding chest. Her tongue tingled as it met his, hungry for what she’d never found again since the morning when he popped those handcuffs off her wrists, stroked her pussy one last time, and strode out her door to catch a plane to hell.
He broke the kiss, burrowing his head between her breasts. Another rumbling groan that came from deep in his chest hinted that he, too, remembered…wanted to renew those memories. As much as she did. His dark-blond hair felt as silky as Brett’s when she tunneled into it with eager fingers.
And nudged the string that held his eye patch in place. Andi stilled her fingers, cradled his head in both hands, listened to his ragged breathing against her heart. Could he still make love?
It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except this unexpected, incredible reunion. Making up now for eight years of regret, wanting, seeking but never finding the satisfaction she’d discovered with him that one weekend. Even if he couldn’t… He had a mouth. Hands as arousing as they’d ever been. She’d give him affection if he couldn’t accept her passion.
In slow motion, he let go his hold on her, leaving her feeling cold, empty. A great sob erupted from somewhere deep inside his chest, the sound seemingly coming straight from his soul as he wrenched his head from her hands and turned away.
“Gray, it doesn’t matter if you can’t—”
He laughed. The sound held no mirth, though. It left Andi as cold she’d been the day she’d heard he was dead. And it made her mad. Real mad. “Make me come, damn it. Make me come like no man’s done since you spoiled me for everybody else. Goddamnit, it’s you who’s making me burn. Not your cock. Not any hard cock that’s handy.”
Grabbing her hand, he slammed it against his crotch. “It’s not that I can’t get it up. As you can tell, I manage that just fine. But baby, I remember too. I remember how much you liked giving over control. How you got turned on six ways from Sunday, playing erotic games that required me doing a lot more than getting a hard-on. Things I damn well can’t do anymore. Not that you’d want me to, anyhow, once you got a good look.” He gestured toward the eye patch and the scar that ran along his cheek. “Think this looks bad? You should see what I keep covered up.”
“Show me.” She held his gaze as she rubbed her palm suggestively up and down his rock-hard cock. “Show me this.”
Damn it, Gray should have known Andi wouldn’t back down from a challenge. Particularly a sexual one. But Christ, he didn’t want to ruin the memories that had helped keep him going for years in that hellhole of a prison. “Leave it alone, baby. Let’s don’t spoil it.”
“Okay, don’t show me. Just take me to your bedroom and fuck away the years of loneliness. I’ll close my eyes. Turn off the lights. For all I care the room can be pitch-black. It won’t be any darker than where I’ve been for eight long years, dreaming about a guy who died. Comparing him with other lovers and having them all come up short, so much so that after a while I just gave up and quit trying to find Mr. Right.
“Now I just want to come. I want you to come.” She groaned, as though the wanting literally hurt her as she loosened the drawstring on his sweats and slipped her hand inside.
Shit, if he fucked her now he damn sure would come up short, as she put it. But if he didn’t, his balls would certainly explode. They tightened painfully when she used one slender finger to spread the lubricating fluid that was already oozing out of his eager cock. “Stop, you’re killing me. For God’s sake, Andi. At least let me hold on to the memories.”
“Keep them. I’m going to keep mine, too. Just make a few new memories with me now.” Leaning over, she found his lips, took them,
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