Read Online The Comforts of Home by Jodi Thomas - Free Book Online

fire or hanged from the Empire State Building by a rope made from ugly ties. As her legend grew, she met him less and less in public, even for a drink or coffee, until final y this fal she hadn’t even joined him for breakfast when they both happened to be in Harmony. But when she e-mailed him her flight schedule, he knew to book a room if he could get there for the layover.
    “Hel o, darlin’,” he said now, as if it had been only hours and not more than a month since they’d seen each other.
    “You look beautiful, as always.”
    She turned and closed the door. Then without a word, she slipped out of her heels as she pul ed her hair free of the bun. The long strands danced to her waist.
    He didn’t move. He couldn’t even breathe. Al he could do was watch. In al his life he’d never had a woman affect him so completely. He didn’t just want to touch her, he wanted to breathe her in, watch her every move, listen to the way she breathed when she slept or how she sighed when he ran his hands over her gently.
    She let her black jacket fal to the floor, then unbuttoned her tailored trousers and let them pool at her feet so she could step free.
    Standing in only her white blouse, she waited. Stil no greeting.
    Denver swal owed the last of his whiskey and moved toward her. He’d meant to talk first. Wanted to catch up on how her world was going. He knew her, maybe better than she knew herself. He knew she didn’t care much about her success even though that was mainly what she talked about when she was around people. He also knew that beneath the perfect mask was a shattered woman whose husband had ended her world years ago, and she’d barely been able to tape the fragments together. She was a mother, a daughter, a sister, and an artist, but she wasn’t his. He sometimes asked himself the question that if this was al he could have of her—one wild night now and then—was it enough?
    When he raised one finger and slid it down the V of her blouse, she jerked slightly and closed her eyes. “I said hel o,” he whispered in a low voice as he kissed his way from her ear to her mouth while his hands slid beneath her shirttail and cupped her hips.
    She sighed and backed a step away.
    He moved close again, barely touching her as he freed the first few buttons of her blouse. “I don’t care if you talk to me, darlin’. I know what you want.”
    She backed away again, her breath coming quickly.
    Each movement shifted the cotton top just enough that he saw she wore no bra.
    “And you know what I want.” He wasn’t holding her, just touching.
    She stepped away again, her eyes wide.
    He let a foot remain between them as he slowly pushed his hand between the starched white cotton of her blouse and brushed his fingers around her breast.
    She shut her eyes and gulped deep breaths as he finished unbuttoning her blouse and pushed it off her shoulders.
    “You are so beautiful, Claire,” he whispered as his hand gently moved over her.
    She backed to the door and he closed the distance between them as he pressed his body over the length of hers. He held her head in his hands as he kissed her ful out for several minutes before breaking the kiss so that he could stare into her eyes.
    She wasn’t a woman many people touched, and he knew no man had touched her but him in a long time. “You planning on talking to me tonight, Claire?”
    “No,” she answered, trying to turn her head away.
    “Fine,” he said, then pul ed her mouth to his again.
    “We’l have to find another way to communicate.” He kissed her until he felt her give up any resistance.
    When he broke the kiss, she leaned her head back against his arm, her mouth stil slightly open. He swore the woman melted into his skin every time she came close, but the first few moments were always a sparring match before she surrendered to what they both wanted.
    “Are you glad to see me?” he whispered as he bit lightly against her bottom lip. When she didn’t answer, he