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“So then, Reno called home. You were going to leave before I arrived, Risa.”
She tried to swallow past her tears. She tried to tell herself she could get through this. That she’d wait, see why he was here, why he was searching for her.
Six weeks of loss locked inside her. Her hand moved to her stomach as she sought the connection with their child that had eased her for the past few weeks. Nothing could ease the pain of losing Micah, of seeing him, certain he’d walk away again.
“I shouldn’t have been here.” She shook her head again. “I’m sure you’re busy. Or something. I’ll leave.”
She moved for her car.
Micah stepped in front of her, his hands curved over her shoulders, and Risa felt her knees turn to jelly at the touch. Warmth flowed over her, inside her. It rocked her to her core; it stole her ability to breathe, to speak, to think.
“Come with me,” he whispered as her head lifted. “Just for a while.”
And she was supposed to refuse him? He made the request as though he expected just that.
She nodded and handed him the car keys. There wasn’t a chance in hell that she could drive in the shape she was in.
She moved around the car and slid into the passenger seat as Micah moved in beside her on the other side. The car started and he was pulling away from the house.
Risa told herself it was just another dream. As he drove through town and pulled the car into the underground parking lot of one of the nicer hotels, she continued to tell herself it didn’t mean anything. He just wanted to talk. Nothing more.
Six weeks. She had lived without his touch for six long weeks. Her hands fisted in her lap as she fought to keep her hands off him, to maintain her dignity, her pride.
He parked the car. When he got out, Risa drew in a hard breath, but she could sense the heady, rich warmth that flowed from his hard body.
“Risa?” He had opened her door and was waiting for her, his hand extended to her.
She lifted her hand. His fingers gripped hers, and when she was out of the car, he didn’t release them.
Suddenly Risa felt sensations she was certain she had never known in her life. The feel of the hem of her dress sliding against her legs. The cool air of the garage against her bare arms. She had left her sweater at Raven’s. She could feel her thighs, and the flesh between them. Her clit was swelling, aching. Her vagina was clenched tight in need and dampening with arousal.
Dampening nothing, she was wet. Slick, hot, and wet, and shaking with the need for his kiss.
The ride up the elevator seemed to take forever. When it stopped, the doors swishing open, Micah led her into a wide, elegant hallway and to the door of his room.
She stepped inside.
The door slammed closed and before she could speak, she found her back against it, his lips on hers, his hands touching her, and everything inside her exploded in pleasure.
Her hands slid up his chest, moved around his neck until she was holding him against her, straining to be closer as his head slanted and the already greedy, dominant kiss turned fiercer.
She couldn’t get enough of him. She needed too much. She ached too much.
“I’m dying.” He jerked back long enough to make the declaration in a hoarse, ragged tone. “Dying without you, Risa.”
She tried to speak, but his kiss stole the words. His hands stroked under the hem of her dress. Her panties were pushed down her legs, and she didn’t give a damn. She stepped out of them, her head falling back against the door as his lips moved along her jaw, then back to her lips.
His fingers slid through the slick folds of her pussy and he groaned into her kiss as she felt him struggling with the closure of his jeans.
He was here, in her arms. Warm and hard. She was lost in the sensations, the hunger. She was coming apart and she didn’t give a damn.
“Micah,” she breathed his name as she felt the buttons holding the dress together over her breasts pop.
The sensitive flesh was swollen, her nipples peaked against her bra. The dress and bra straps were pushed over her shoulder and a second later she was trying to scream from the pleasure as his lips covered one engorged peak.
At the same time, he lifted her, drew her leg to his hip, and tucked the fiercely swollen head of his cock into the wet folds between her thighs.
“I can’t wait.” He was panting; the muscles beneath his shirt were straining as Risa tore at the buttons. “I can’t wait, Risa. I’m dying for you.”
