so—"
He brought his mouth down on hers.
Hard. Hot. Hungry.
The fight drained out of her and she went slack in his arms, but only momentarily. When he released her wrists, she drove her fingers into his hair and returned his kiss with like ardor. Curling into him, she moaned softly. Matt readjusted her weight to lessen the pressure on his swelling erection.
They broke apart, breathless, their hearts pounding. He dropped tiny kisses on her damp cheeks, her chin, her forehead.
"We can't do this."
"Shh.” He pressed her head to his shoulder. “Everything will be fine. You'll see."
She started crying again. Her whole body shook with silent sobs. He gathered her to him and soothed her as one might a small child. Eventually, she stopped.
"How did you know I was in here?” she asked in a scratchy whisper, not lifting her head.
"Booter gave you away. He was right outside the door, whimpering. Didn't you hear him?"
"No. The last time I saw him, he was sleeping in my bedroom. I suppose I should get him."
"He's all right. I gave him a bowl of Cheerios. That should keep him busy."
"For about five seconds."
He felt her smile. “Lindsay—"
"Don't say anything. Please.” She put a finger to his lips. “I'm too raw for any well-meaning words."
"Okay.” He angled his head and nuzzled the inside of her arm, nipping at the tender skin there. Then he worked his way up to her elbow.
"Not a good idea, Matt.” She tried to wiggle free, but he only tightened his grasp on her.
"I think it's a very good idea.” He lifted his head and brought his lips to within an inch of hers. “Kiss me."
"In your dreams."
"Still mad about the test scores?"
"Fuming."
"Physical activity is great outlet for venting frustrations."
"So, you won't mind if I sock you.” She cuffed him lightly on the arm.
"I had a different sort of physical activity in mind.” His fingers glided up her leg and under the hem of her shorts.
"Are you insane?” She pushed his hand away. “Emilio and Dennis will hear us."
"They're sound asleep."
"For the moment. A flea hopping off Booter would make enough racket to wake them."
"Then we'll have to be really careful. None of that screaming like the other night."
She cuffed him on the arm again, a little harder.
"Kiss me,” he repeated.
"Go to hell,” she said, then did as he demanded and kissed him.
With her help, he yanked her shirt from the waist band of her shorts and drove his hand underneath, desperate to touch her bare skin. She was warm and silky and smelled like soap. He pulled her shirt higher, exposing a band of creamy flesh, and found out she also tasted like soap.
God, he wanted her, with every fiber of his being and not just for his lover. His girlfriend? Definitely. Live-in companion? Possibly. Probably. Wife? Whoa!
Why didn't the thought of marrying Lindsay scare the pants off him? He'd have to dwell on that later. When he wasn't so preoccupied with an uncooperative zipper.
She didn't object when he unfastened her shorts and hiked them down to her knees. Nor when he parted her legs and toyed with the elastic leg bands of her panties.
A loud roaring filled his ears, drowning out all coherent thought. What they were doing went beyond dangerous. Well into the realm of suicidal. Matt's excitement grew with each passing second they avoided detection. He hadn't experienced such an illicit thrill since his sister's friend, Mary Beth Shoemaker, let him feel her up behind the bleachers at a high school football game. She'd been a senior, he a lowly junior. Before tonight, that memory had stood out as his most daring sexual escapade.
The panties came off, making way for his fingers, which found their target and quickly established a pattern. In and out. Faster and faster. Lindsay bucked and made a low noise in the back of her throat.
"I want to kiss you, Lindsay.” When her lips grazed his chin, he pulled back and said, “No. Not on the mouth.” He stroked her. “I want to kiss you
He brought his mouth down on hers.
Hard. Hot. Hungry.
The fight drained out of her and she went slack in his arms, but only momentarily. When he released her wrists, she drove her fingers into his hair and returned his kiss with like ardor. Curling into him, she moaned softly. Matt readjusted her weight to lessen the pressure on his swelling erection.
They broke apart, breathless, their hearts pounding. He dropped tiny kisses on her damp cheeks, her chin, her forehead.
"We can't do this."
"Shh.” He pressed her head to his shoulder. “Everything will be fine. You'll see."
She started crying again. Her whole body shook with silent sobs. He gathered her to him and soothed her as one might a small child. Eventually, she stopped.
"How did you know I was in here?” she asked in a scratchy whisper, not lifting her head.
"Booter gave you away. He was right outside the door, whimpering. Didn't you hear him?"
"No. The last time I saw him, he was sleeping in my bedroom. I suppose I should get him."
"He's all right. I gave him a bowl of Cheerios. That should keep him busy."
"For about five seconds."
He felt her smile. “Lindsay—"
"Don't say anything. Please.” She put a finger to his lips. “I'm too raw for any well-meaning words."
"Okay.” He angled his head and nuzzled the inside of her arm, nipping at the tender skin there. Then he worked his way up to her elbow.
"Not a good idea, Matt.” She tried to wiggle free, but he only tightened his grasp on her.
"I think it's a very good idea.” He lifted his head and brought his lips to within an inch of hers. “Kiss me."
"In your dreams."
"Still mad about the test scores?"
"Fuming."
"Physical activity is great outlet for venting frustrations."
"So, you won't mind if I sock you.” She cuffed him lightly on the arm.
"I had a different sort of physical activity in mind.” His fingers glided up her leg and under the hem of her shorts.
"Are you insane?” She pushed his hand away. “Emilio and Dennis will hear us."
"They're sound asleep."
"For the moment. A flea hopping off Booter would make enough racket to wake them."
"Then we'll have to be really careful. None of that screaming like the other night."
She cuffed him on the arm again, a little harder.
"Kiss me,” he repeated.
"Go to hell,” she said, then did as he demanded and kissed him.
With her help, he yanked her shirt from the waist band of her shorts and drove his hand underneath, desperate to touch her bare skin. She was warm and silky and smelled like soap. He pulled her shirt higher, exposing a band of creamy flesh, and found out she also tasted like soap.
God, he wanted her, with every fiber of his being and not just for his lover. His girlfriend? Definitely. Live-in companion? Possibly. Probably. Wife? Whoa!
Why didn't the thought of marrying Lindsay scare the pants off him? He'd have to dwell on that later. When he wasn't so preoccupied with an uncooperative zipper.
She didn't object when he unfastened her shorts and hiked them down to her knees. Nor when he parted her legs and toyed with the elastic leg bands of her panties.
A loud roaring filled his ears, drowning out all coherent thought. What they were doing went beyond dangerous. Well into the realm of suicidal. Matt's excitement grew with each passing second they avoided detection. He hadn't experienced such an illicit thrill since his sister's friend, Mary Beth Shoemaker, let him feel her up behind the bleachers at a high school football game. She'd been a senior, he a lowly junior. Before tonight, that memory had stood out as his most daring sexual escapade.
The panties came off, making way for his fingers, which found their target and quickly established a pattern. In and out. Faster and faster. Lindsay bucked and made a low noise in the back of her throat.
"I want to kiss you, Lindsay.” When her lips grazed his chin, he pulled back and said, “No. Not on the mouth.” He stroked her. “I want to kiss you
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