Page 16 of It's a Widow Thing

An indelicate moan left her throat, fuel for his impossibly hard erection. Her earlier unease seemed to be gone. She tilted her hips into him, up off the cushion, enough for him to wedge his hand beneath her ass. His other hand, not to be outdone, cupped her breast, smooth silk over lace in his palm. Sabrina gasped, breaking free from the kiss.

“Are you okay?” he asked, breathless, eyes wide open.

She stared at his hand, still molded around her breast. “Yes. I’m great. It just…” Her eyelids fluttered shut as his thumb rode over the firm bud rising inside her blouse. “That feels so good.”

She kicked off her pumps and rubbed her bare foot against his ankle. Her body was so damn responsive, giving off signals that said she craved him as much as he had to have her. Unable to wait, he went to the buttons on her blouse.

“Michael…” Her mouth was frustratingly close to his ear, and her voice expressed both desire and hesitation.

“Sabrina, I want you. I think you know how much I like you. I promise you that this will not be a one-night thing.” He trailed a finger along her collarbone, carefully studying her reaction. With every inch he traveled, she arched a little closer to him.

She clasped his hand with both of hers, trapping his fingers. He feared she was about to move them away. Instead, she flattened his hand against her chest. “Do you feel that?”

His pride, and his cock, swelled at thethump thumpagainst his palm. He’d elicited that furious flutter. “I do.”

“It’s been a long time since my heart has done that.”

“I can make it beat a lot harder than that.” Finally, one of his suggestive comments had a natural place in their conversation.

“I know you can and that’s what scares me. I can’t rush this. My head won’t let me do it.” She unwrapped herself from him, worked her feet into her shoes and started for the front door. “I’m so sorry.”

Michael bolted from the sofa.Is this really happening?“Hold on. I really don’t get it. Please tell me what’s going on.”

“Some other time. I promise.” She snatched her purse from the entry table and lunged for the doorknob, but she hesitated when she touched it.

He scrambled to her side, blanketing her hand with his to keep her from opening the door. “Something is going on here and I think I deserve to know.”

She closed her eyes and swayed as if an invisible gale was moving her. A flash of blue-green hit him as she opened her eyes again. “When we first met and you said that you were glad I was single, I should have corrected you.”

“You’re divorced?”

“No, not that.”

“You live down the hall from me. I’d know it if you were married.” His hands became clammy and cold.“You aren’t married, are you?”

She granted him the faintest smile, almost as if she might laugh. At least it lightened the moment. “I’m a widow.”

His brow furrowed. “A widow? You’re so young.”

Her smile morphed into sad resignation. “It’s a long story. I promise to tell you some time. But for right now, I think it’s best that I go.”

“Did I do something wrong?” He clutched her elbow. The energy that had been there between them moments before had changed entirely. It wasn’t gone and it was no less intense, but it was different.

“Actually, you did everything right.” She touched his jaw with the tip of her finger, tracing the contour to his chin. With a tilt of her head, she placed a single kiss on his cheek, inches from his mouth. “Goodnight. Thank you for a lovely evening.”

She opened the door and he watched as she fled down the hall.

She’s a widow. That’s way more than I bargained for.“Goodnight,” he called out, a few seconds later than he should have. She didn’t reply, so he retreated inside, struck by the solitude when he closed the door. This was familiar, but it had never troubled him as much as it did now.

CHAPTERSEVEN

Michael wasready to hang up after four rings, but Alyshia answered her cellphone just in time. “Michael, hey. Sorry, I was getting Zoe ready for soccer. She has a game at nine.”

“Oh, right. I forgot. Tell her I’m sorry I can’t be there this week.” Michael plopped down on his couch and took another sip of coffee. A pang of guilt for missing his niece’s game hit him, but he’d made the decision back when he’d hoped to be spending at least some of his weekend with Sabrina.

“I think you already told her, but I’ll be sure she knows.”

“Do you have a minute?” Michael closed his eyes. Asking for romantic advice from anyone, let alone his sister-in-law, brought back memories of being in seventh grade, confused as hell about girls and sex, and awkwardly asking the older boys at his private school about it. “I need a woman’s perspective on the woman in my apartment building. Remember? Sabrina?”