Read Online This Love Will Go On by Shirley Larson - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Shirley Larson
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of good clean skin, alcohol, leather and wet wool. The lips that had been so gentle against her mouth now claimed her with a fierce possessiveness that heated her blood as it consumed her. His tongue probed, sliding enticingly over hers, exploring corners, dropping depth charges that resounded in the deepest, most feminine core of her.
Electric excitement raced through her veins and encircled her body, making her giddy. He lifted his lips. But as if he couldn't bear to break the contact with her skin, he dragged his mouth along a path from her cheek to her temple and buried his lips in her hair. She clutched at his back and nuzzled her face into his chest, feeling the warm strength of him everywhere, against her cheeks, her body, her palms. She wanted to melt into him and take away the pain he had suffered…and was still suffering.
She stood in his arms, feeling the overwhelming release of her love. She belonged here. She always had, since the beginning of time.
His hands moved. Suddenly, he swept her upward, lifting her off her feet and cradling her against his chest. Stunned, she looked up into his face, seeing nothing but a shadowy form and the dark hollows of his eyes. Peace vanished, panic took its place. The lovely feeling of being one with him washed out on a tidal wave of fear. The man who had picked her up like a woman he was carrying away to ravish was a stranger to her.
She lifted her head away from the heavy suede of his jacket. His breath fanned her face. Though he had been drinking, the hard strength in his arms and body never wavered. Some inner force drove him.
A primitive instinct told her not to betray her fear. “Jade, put me down.” Her voice was crisp, cool and practical. “You'll hurt yourself. I'm not a featherweight like Michele…”
“No,” he muttered. “You’re not Michele.”
Fighting the agony of hearing his wife's name dragged out of him, she kicked her feet against his arms and stiffened her body, hoping he would loosen his hold on her. He didn't. He tightened his grip and walked the two steps to the cot. When he lowered her to the soft quilt that was still warm with the heat of her body, she took a breath and half-raised herself up, pushing against him. He came down heavily on top of her. She resisted, writhing against him, knowing now beyond a shadow of a doubt that he had something far more elemental than simple comfort on his mind. The struggling movements of her body only sharpened her senses and made more vivid the feel and warmth of him. His hard masculine chest against the softness of hers exploded the guards she had built around her long-buried love.
She made a sound of protest and he eased away from her but did not let go of her. He merely held her with one hand and shrugged a shoulder out of his sheepskin coat. He reversed the process with his other arm, and the coat went sliding to the floor.
Her heart throbbed in her ears, blood pounded in her brain. Jade, her body whispered. No, her mind answered. Not like this. Not like this.
He leaned over her and her veins throbbed with desire. He wore a black turtleneck jersey with his jeans and she braced her palms against the cotton-covered strength of his chest and said in a mixture of excitement and fear, “Jade listen to me. This is impossible. You… you’ve had too much to drink.”
He chuckled and buried his mouth in the side of her neck, nuzzling the warm cavern under her ear, his lips discovering the roundness and texture of the soft lobe. “Not to worry, sweet. What you do to me is too damn strong to be blocked by a couple of shots of Scotch.”
“Jade, listen to me, please. I can't let you…”
He stopped her words with his mouth, claiming the inner recesses with his tongue, his body shifting over hers, the evidence of his male arousal telling her he was absolutely right about his ability to drink and still make love to her. She burned with excitement and struggled against
Electric excitement raced through her veins and encircled her body, making her giddy. He lifted his lips. But as if he couldn't bear to break the contact with her skin, he dragged his mouth along a path from her cheek to her temple and buried his lips in her hair. She clutched at his back and nuzzled her face into his chest, feeling the warm strength of him everywhere, against her cheeks, her body, her palms. She wanted to melt into him and take away the pain he had suffered…and was still suffering.
She stood in his arms, feeling the overwhelming release of her love. She belonged here. She always had, since the beginning of time.
His hands moved. Suddenly, he swept her upward, lifting her off her feet and cradling her against his chest. Stunned, she looked up into his face, seeing nothing but a shadowy form and the dark hollows of his eyes. Peace vanished, panic took its place. The lovely feeling of being one with him washed out on a tidal wave of fear. The man who had picked her up like a woman he was carrying away to ravish was a stranger to her.
She lifted her head away from the heavy suede of his jacket. His breath fanned her face. Though he had been drinking, the hard strength in his arms and body never wavered. Some inner force drove him.
A primitive instinct told her not to betray her fear. “Jade, put me down.” Her voice was crisp, cool and practical. “You'll hurt yourself. I'm not a featherweight like Michele…”
“No,” he muttered. “You’re not Michele.”
Fighting the agony of hearing his wife's name dragged out of him, she kicked her feet against his arms and stiffened her body, hoping he would loosen his hold on her. He didn't. He tightened his grip and walked the two steps to the cot. When he lowered her to the soft quilt that was still warm with the heat of her body, she took a breath and half-raised herself up, pushing against him. He came down heavily on top of her. She resisted, writhing against him, knowing now beyond a shadow of a doubt that he had something far more elemental than simple comfort on his mind. The struggling movements of her body only sharpened her senses and made more vivid the feel and warmth of him. His hard masculine chest against the softness of hers exploded the guards she had built around her long-buried love.
She made a sound of protest and he eased away from her but did not let go of her. He merely held her with one hand and shrugged a shoulder out of his sheepskin coat. He reversed the process with his other arm, and the coat went sliding to the floor.
Her heart throbbed in her ears, blood pounded in her brain. Jade, her body whispered. No, her mind answered. Not like this. Not like this.
He leaned over her and her veins throbbed with desire. He wore a black turtleneck jersey with his jeans and she braced her palms against the cotton-covered strength of his chest and said in a mixture of excitement and fear, “Jade listen to me. This is impossible. You… you’ve had too much to drink.”
He chuckled and buried his mouth in the side of her neck, nuzzling the warm cavern under her ear, his lips discovering the roundness and texture of the soft lobe. “Not to worry, sweet. What you do to me is too damn strong to be blocked by a couple of shots of Scotch.”
“Jade, listen to me, please. I can't let you…”
He stopped her words with his mouth, claiming the inner recesses with his tongue, his body shifting over hers, the evidence of his male arousal telling her he was absolutely right about his ability to drink and still make love to her. She burned with excitement and struggled against
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