Tags:
Fiction,
General,
Romance,
Contemporary,
Man-Woman Relationships,
Love Stories,
California,
northern,
Veterans,
Single mothers,
Fighter pilots
leg, interrupting and disturbing some totally perfect foreplay. “Jesus!”
“What?” she whispered, breathless.
He looked over his shoulder at the dog. “Don’t do that!” he yelled at Harry, causing him to back up and whimper a little. Then he turned back to Franci. “Where’s the bedroom?”
She tilted her head. “Down the hall, first door on the left,” she said weakly. He carried her like that, his big hands under her butt, her legs wrapped around him, down the short hall to her bedroom. He limped slightly. Just inside the bedroom, he kicked the door closed, locking the dog out. He peeled off her coat, dropping it to the floor, then he fell with her on the bed, still crushing her to him, still possessing her mouth. Without releasing her lips, his jacket joined her coat on the floor. In the back of her mind she knew she wasn’t supposed to be doing this. But in the front of her mind, this was perfect. He felt absolutely perfect. And she was so hot that if anyone tried to stop her now, she might tear them limb from limb.
It had been a long time since she’d been this person. Of course, the last time had been with Sean, which partially explained this time. As she ran her hands over his chest, shoulders, arms, back, she couldn’t get enough of him, couldn’t get him close enough, and she began pulling at his shirt. She tugged it out of his pants and pushed her hands underneath to caress his naked chest. His pecs were hard, his belly flat; there was a soft mat of hair. Her fingers teased his nipples and brought them into hard little bullets. She was panting, gasping, biting and tugging gently at his lips. She had become completely wild with absolutely no concept of how this was possible just minutes after she had suggested this was a bad idea. But it didn’t matter—she grabbed the front of his shirt and tore it open, sending the buttons flying, pinging off various surfaces around the room.
“Whoa,” Sean said against her lips. He let the shirt fall off his shoulders, then tugged her dress up. He sat back on his heels between her spread legs, pulled her to an upright position and worked that purple dress up and up, over her head and away. His hands went to her panties…
Her hands were on his belt buckle while his fingers tested the elastic of her very tiny panties. They came off faster than his belt buckle opened; she found herself kicking out of them crazily, frantically. Then she went after that belt again and it wasn’t moving. She whimpered her need to get past that belt, that zipper.
“Easy,” he whispered. “Easy.”
“If it was easy, you’d be naked,” she returned, her breath coming unevenly.
Sean chuckled. “Hang on,” he said, giving her a hand and getting out of his jeans. All their clothes were suddenly flung around the room and they were pressed together, naked, hot and panting. His lips went to her breast, his tongue teasing a nipple into life, while her hand immediately coiled around him and he shuddered, groaning. Mouths together again, bodies pressed tight, he slipped a hand lower. His fingers glided smoothly into her and she ground against his hand. “Yeah,” he groaned appreciatively. “Okay. Okay. I just need a second, honey. Hang on.”
He rolled away from her and grabbed his jeans off the floor, shaking out his wallet, sifting through it quickly, locating a condom.
In that moment that he wasn’t touching her, Franci froze. Her dark eyes were wide, her body suddenly growing cool in his absence. Temporary sanity. She noticed a picture of herself and her daughter on the bureau across the room and pinched her eyes closed, pulled her legs back together. She couldn’t go through with this, no matter how much…He never forgot the condom; he didn’t want children. Well, he forgot it that once…How can I let this happen?
But then he was back, against her, covering her with his large, warm, hard body. He grabbed her wrists, pulled her hands over her head to hold them
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