AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Everything was out of control—her emotions, her life, her love for this man who didn’t love her back. They couldn’t even rationally discuss all the reasons that a marriage between them was impossible because his feelings for her didn’t run that deep.
She waited for him to stomp away, but he didn’t. Instead, he came closer, extended those long arms, and pulled her into them. “You’re being a brat,” he said gruffly.
That wonderful kindness. She felt his big hands in her hair, and a sob caught in her throat. She swallowed it and pressed her cheek against his chest. “I know.”
His lips brushed her hair. “Will it make you feel better if I fight with you?”
“I think so.”
“Okay. Take off your clothes.”
If only it were that easy. She sighed. “We can’t solve this with sex.”
“Take ’em off anyway. I need to be serviced.”
“Serviced? Is that any way to talk to the First Lady?”
“You’re my First Lady, and I’m just getting started.” He reached under her top. One of the ties ripped as he pulled off her pillow. “Damn, I hate this thing.”
“Of course you do. You hate everything that has to do with children.”
“You’re not playing fair.”
“Sue me.”
“I’ve got a better idea.” Her eyes flew open as he told her, in very earthy language, exactly what he had in mind.
Desire, as powerful as her pain, rushed through her. “Are you sure you can keep up with me?”
“I’ll try my best.”
Their clothes flew off and, within moments, they were in bed. He rolled on top of her and ravished her with his mouth. She opened herself to his hands, his big body, and, inevitably, welcomed the hard, deep thrust.
Their lovemaking was fierce and reckless, with neither of them holding anything back . . . except the love words she couldn’t say and he didn’t feel.
After it was over, he caressed her as if she were small and delicate. He kissed her forehead, the corners of her eyes, the tip of her nose. Kissed her as if he were memorizing her face.
She dipped her thumb into the hollow beneath his collarbone, pressed her lips to his chest.
He stroked her shoulder, buried his face in her hair. Gradually, she felt him tensing again, and she trailed her fingers over his flat stomach to encourage him.
His voice was the barest whisper. “I have something I need to tell you.”
He sounded so grave, and time had become her enemy. She let her fingers move lower. “Later.”
His breath caught as she touched him. He closed his palm over her wandering hand. “It has to be now. I’ve already put it off too long.”
“The girls will be back soon. One last time.”
He rolled on his side so that he was facing her. His mood was so sober that she felt her first trickle of foreboding.
“I should have told you last night—even before—but I kept chickening out. You’re not going to like it.”
Her sexual lassitude disappeared. She waited, and when he hesitated, she began to feel sick. “You’re married.”
“No!” His eyes flared with outrage. “What kind of man do you think I am?”
Limp with relief, she sank back onto the pillow. Nothing he could tell her would be as bad as that.
