Read Online Solomon's Decision by Judith B. Glad - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Judith B. Glad
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see that the twigs
and branches were being consumed by leaping flames. "You'll be able to sit closer."
She obeyed and immediately felt wonderful warmth on her back. Gradually the
shivers lessened, until they occurred as occasional spasms, rather than constantly shaking
her body. She pulled her legs up and clasped them, resting her chin on her knees. Eyes
closed, she tried to relax as her body slowly regained the heat it had lost.
"Turn around now," Erik said, some long time later. Madeline opened her eyes. He
was standing before her, clad in nothing but very scanty, very red briefs.
A new warmth began in her lower belly and flowed through her. She knew that
body, knew its pulse points and its erogenous zones. She had buried her face in the springy
pelt on his chest and nipped at the dark, almost concealed nipples. She had dipped her
tongue into the deep indentation of his navel, tasting his musky, male scent.
Some of her feelings must have showed in her eyes, for he kneeled before her, one
hand reaching out to touch her cheek. "Madeline?" His voice was husky, little more than a
whisper.
She found no words. All she could do was look at him, still wanting him and still
certain that they had made a mistake.
Her certainty could no more resist her body's need than a drifting feather could
resist the wind. She fought to keep from leaning into his touch, resisted the urge to find his
fingertips with her lips. She told her eyes to close, rather than drowning in his fiery
gaze.
When his breath blew hot on her mouth, she silently screamed at her lips to close,
her jaw to set. And when his lips brushed hers, with a touch as delicate as a spider's silk,
she was still telling herself not to welcome him back into her life.
"Madeline." Her name was almost a prayer on his lips.
Pull back, her mind screamed. Don't let him.
Just this once, her body argued. Just this one time more, for the
memory.
His lips found hers and were hot. Oh, so hot. Demanding. Pleading.
Promising.
His arms were strong around her. Protective. Cherishing.
Madeline had forgotten how good being held in a lover's embrace could feel. No
one had held her since Jesse....No, since Erik.
"Ah, Madeline. You smell so good, taste so good." His tongue toyed with her lips,
begging entrance.
She welcomed him, telling herself that she would allow only this pale imitation of
what they both wanted. Soon she would stop him, tell him they'd gone far enough.
Soon.
Her heart pounded in her ears, growing louder as Erik explored her mouth, as his
hands stroked along her spine and framed her waist, shaped her buttocks, relearned the
lines of her thighs.
Louder and louder, until Erik ended the kiss with a soft curse. "It's the helicopter,"
he said, framing her face with hands that almost seemed to tremble. "It'll be here any
minute. Get dressed."
Quickly he rose to his feet and reached for their clothing, draped on branches and
shrubs all around them. For a moment Madeline sat, stupidly staring, still hearing the
pounding of her heart.
"Madeline! Get dressed. Hurry." Her jeans, still almost dripping, hit her in the
face.
The shock was enough to bring her back to reality. The helicopter. Of course. She
forced her feet into the clinging denim, shivering again as it robbed her legs of their little
warmth. Her shirt was somewhat drier, but still damp enough that the wind made it feel
even colder and clammier.
"Keep my shirt," Erik said, taking the sodden sweatshirt from her. He twisted it
until trickles of water ran out.
"And what'll you wear?" She'd give anything for the warmth of the wool, but
having him cover his broad chest and wide shoulders was more important. Now that she
was shocked back into common sense, she didn't want anything to distract her from her
resolution. "I'm fine," she insisted. "Once we get into the helicopter, I'll be warm as
toast."
He didn't argue, and was decently covered and kicking dirt over their fire when the
'copter finally set down in the
and branches were being consumed by leaping flames. "You'll be able to sit closer."
She obeyed and immediately felt wonderful warmth on her back. Gradually the
shivers lessened, until they occurred as occasional spasms, rather than constantly shaking
her body. She pulled her legs up and clasped them, resting her chin on her knees. Eyes
closed, she tried to relax as her body slowly regained the heat it had lost.
"Turn around now," Erik said, some long time later. Madeline opened her eyes. He
was standing before her, clad in nothing but very scanty, very red briefs.
A new warmth began in her lower belly and flowed through her. She knew that
body, knew its pulse points and its erogenous zones. She had buried her face in the springy
pelt on his chest and nipped at the dark, almost concealed nipples. She had dipped her
tongue into the deep indentation of his navel, tasting his musky, male scent.
Some of her feelings must have showed in her eyes, for he kneeled before her, one
hand reaching out to touch her cheek. "Madeline?" His voice was husky, little more than a
whisper.
She found no words. All she could do was look at him, still wanting him and still
certain that they had made a mistake.
Her certainty could no more resist her body's need than a drifting feather could
resist the wind. She fought to keep from leaning into his touch, resisted the urge to find his
fingertips with her lips. She told her eyes to close, rather than drowning in his fiery
gaze.
When his breath blew hot on her mouth, she silently screamed at her lips to close,
her jaw to set. And when his lips brushed hers, with a touch as delicate as a spider's silk,
she was still telling herself not to welcome him back into her life.
"Madeline." Her name was almost a prayer on his lips.
Pull back, her mind screamed. Don't let him.
Just this once, her body argued. Just this one time more, for the
memory.
His lips found hers and were hot. Oh, so hot. Demanding. Pleading.
Promising.
His arms were strong around her. Protective. Cherishing.
Madeline had forgotten how good being held in a lover's embrace could feel. No
one had held her since Jesse....No, since Erik.
"Ah, Madeline. You smell so good, taste so good." His tongue toyed with her lips,
begging entrance.
She welcomed him, telling herself that she would allow only this pale imitation of
what they both wanted. Soon she would stop him, tell him they'd gone far enough.
Soon.
Her heart pounded in her ears, growing louder as Erik explored her mouth, as his
hands stroked along her spine and framed her waist, shaped her buttocks, relearned the
lines of her thighs.
Louder and louder, until Erik ended the kiss with a soft curse. "It's the helicopter,"
he said, framing her face with hands that almost seemed to tremble. "It'll be here any
minute. Get dressed."
Quickly he rose to his feet and reached for their clothing, draped on branches and
shrubs all around them. For a moment Madeline sat, stupidly staring, still hearing the
pounding of her heart.
"Madeline! Get dressed. Hurry." Her jeans, still almost dripping, hit her in the
face.
The shock was enough to bring her back to reality. The helicopter. Of course. She
forced her feet into the clinging denim, shivering again as it robbed her legs of their little
warmth. Her shirt was somewhat drier, but still damp enough that the wind made it feel
even colder and clammier.
"Keep my shirt," Erik said, taking the sodden sweatshirt from her. He twisted it
until trickles of water ran out.
"And what'll you wear?" She'd give anything for the warmth of the wool, but
having him cover his broad chest and wide shoulders was more important. Now that she
was shocked back into common sense, she didn't want anything to distract her from her
resolution. "I'm fine," she insisted. "Once we get into the helicopter, I'll be warm as
toast."
He didn't argue, and was decently covered and kicking dirt over their fire when the
'copter finally set down in the
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