The Mommy Miracle by Lilian Darcy Page A

pressed her lips there, because she couldn’t stop herself. He sighed and she felt his mouth against hers, kind of soft and absentminded as if he weren’t really here. He was still back in that horrible night.
    â€œThat was all I could reach,” he repeated. “And then they cut you free and took you away. And it was just me and the sharks.” He laughed.
    â€œWasn’t funny at the time,” she whispered.
    â€œNope.”
    â€œWish I’d been there.”
    â€œI’m glad you weren’t.”
    â€œWell, I’m here now.” She took his face in her hands, and her hands did what they were told as if they wanted this, too. She pressed her lips to his forehead and then—because she couldn’t help it, she was so overwhelmed with feeling for him, with a sense of all the power that connected them—to his mouth.
    Oh, Dev. Oh, Dev.
    He kissed her back, hungry about it, desperate. His mouth was almost too hard against hers, and he crushed the breath out of her lungs, leaning into her. She had to ease him away, but, oh, not too far.
    Yes, Dev, if kissing you helps to let go…
    I’ll kiss you for whatever reason you want, for every reason there is.
    Their two mouths melted together once more, sweet with the chocolate that had finished off their meal. He let go of her hair and moved his hands down to cradle her backside and pull her closer, the swirly skirt of her dress falling against his legs.
    She could feel his arousal and he didn’t try to hide it. He wanted her to know what was happening, and he couldn’t be in any doubt, himself, about what this was doing to her. Her body came alive, her senses reborn. Even the texture of his shirt seemed magical. The woodsy male smell of him. The dark fan of lashes against his cheek that she glimpsed when her eyes drifted open.
    She touched him, her hands not fully controlled so that sometimes her grip wouldn’t let go or her hand would land in the wrong place. There weren’t any wrong places, really. Everywhere felt right. His hip, the top of his thigh, his shoulder blade.
    And then it got serious.
    He slid his hands beneath her top to touch her bare skin and she wanted those hands on her breasts. He must have known. He dragged his mouth away from hers and trailed it down, pulled her summery jacket from her shoulders and traced the neckline beneath it with his lips. The straps of her top and cream lace bra fell against her upper arms.
    He lifted her breast in his cupped palm and breathed a warm breath against her peaked nipple, ran his tongue around it and sucked, released, kissed, sucked again. A fire of pleasure and need stabbed down into her groin, and her body told him keep going, we are so good at this, both of us.
    She reached for the fastening of his pants, but couldn’t make her fingers work. They scrambled helplessly and in the end she just left them there, curled against his stomach, while she kissed her way down his chest then pushed her forehead into the hard, flat place between his hips. Through the textured fabric of his pants, she felt the push of his erection against her mouth.
    â€œNo…” he groaned, pulling her up. “I want you closer.”
    â€œThat’s not close?”
    â€œI want you like this….” He pressed himself into her, kissed her mouth again.
    â€œYes, oh, yes.” She tried his fly again and did better this time. The button came through the hole, the zipper eased down.
    â€œWe can’t do this,” he muttered, but he didn’t mean it. “I want to.” She always did, when it was Dev. Always. Something about him. No explanation. Just chemistry. “Do you?”
    â€œHell, do I? How can you ask?” He straightened from his lean against the car hood and flipped her around in one twirl of a movement so that she was the one leaning. The engine was still warm. He cupped her bottom again and lifted her higher until she sat on the