Read Online The Street Where She Lives by Jill Shalvis - Free Book Online Page A

long ago seemed amazing now.
    â€œRach?” As if she were the finest, most fragile piece of china, Ben set a light, careful hand on her shoulder. “You okay? You’ve gone quiet and pale on me.”
    His fingers brushed her collarbone like a feather, and a shiver raced down her spine. Not signifying cold, but something far more devastating. “I’m…fine.”
    Another brush of those fingers, a testing one this time, while his eyes held hers. “Rachel,” he murmured. “It’s still there. Can you feel it?”
    â€œI—” No, she wanted to say, but lying was ridiculous when surely he could feel the blood pounding through her body at just a single touch. Again, he squatted in front of her.
    â€œYou still have those eyes,” he murmured. “The ones that make me melt.”
    She let out a nervous smile.
    He smiled back.
    â€œI have no idea why I’m smiling at you.”
    His fingers traveled up, up, cupped her face. “I don’t care. Just keep doing it.”
    She stopped breathing. His gaze was locked on hers as he slowly let his thumbs stroke her jaw. Her body responded, giving her a jolt of pleasure instead of pain for once, as if it recognized that this man, and only this man, had given her such incredible pleasure.
    Ben let out a rough, disbelieving sound, then cuppedthe back of her head, gently holding her still as he shifted his mouth toward hers.
    Move, Rachel told herself, and she did—closer, matching up their lips. It was unfathomable, unthinkable. He had no business touching her, and she had no business wanting him to, but she did. Oh, how she did.
    The first light touch of lip to lip dissolved her bones, and all the pain with it. Needing the balance, she put out her right hand, gripping his chest. Beneath his shirt, his heart thumped steadily. A bit dazed now, she simply stared up at him.
    With a soft murmur of her name, he changed the angle of her head and connected again. His mouth was warm, firm, giving, so beautifully giving that her eyes drifted shut and she lost her ability to put words together, to do anything but feel.
    His tongue lightly stroked her lips. Struck by a familiarity and strangeness all at once, she moaned, then again when a slow, deep thrust of his tongue liquefied her. She fisted her fingers in his shirt, holding him close, making him groan deep in his throat.
    The sound was raw, staggeringly sensual, but then he was pulling back, letting out a slow breath.
    She did the same, but it didn’t change the fact she could still taste him and wanted, needed, more.
    But that had never been their problem, the wanting.
    â€œYour bedroom,” he said a little roughly.
    â€œThe next room down.”
    He moved behind her, gripped her chair. Once inside, he stopped. There was a picture hanging on the wall, an eight-by-ten from two years before, of Emily wearing a sundress, beaming from ear to ear, holding up her elementary school diploma. Her eyes sparkled with suchjoy, such life, it hurt to even look at her, but Rachel looked anyway, just as she sensed Ben looking.
    Did he see it? The resemblance, not so much physical, though that was there, too, but the very essence? The soul? It must have been like looking in a mirror.
    God knows their daughter hadn’t gotten her sense of adventure and spirit from Rachel. Before Ben, she’d had nothing like that until he’d come along and had shared his. He’d done more than share: he’d somehow gotten so close, he’d breathed his very being into her, bringing her to life during the time they’d had together.
    But Emily…she’d been full of life from day one.
    â€œShe’s beautiful,” Ben said quietly. “Like you.”
    â€œBen—”
    â€œLet’s get you into bed.”
    For a moment she thought he’d said “let’s get into bed,” and her heart jerked. Yes.
    No.
    But when he came to stand in front of her, his