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River went to the couch and sat next to her. He ached to kiss her. Staring at her resting so beautifully, River hated to wake her, but there were unresolved issues between them. He brushed her cheek with his lips before moving his hand through the heavy fall of her hair. He loved that she wore it down these days. For so long she’d worn it in a ponytail, and he’d often wondered what it looked like all brushed out. Right now it practically begged for his fingers to delve in and play.

First things first. “Wake up, little sunshine. We have things to talk about.”

Jeanette blinked sleepily awake. When she saw him, her face lit with a tempting smile. She stretched her arms above her head and mumubled, “When did you get back?”

“A few minutes ago.”

She covered a yawn. “You should’ve woken me.”

“I just did.” This time when River leaned down, he kissed her lips. He couldn’t help himself. Ever since he’d had a taste of her, she’d become irristible to him. “Wake up, sleepyhead.”

Jeanette gave an exagerated sigh. “Fine, if I must.”

“You know, Mike interrupted something the other day that I never did get to finish.”

She froze. “H-he did?”

When she moved to sit up, River stopped her with a hand to her shoulder. “Yep.”

“What?”

“This…”

In a heartbeat, River was there, drinking in her surrender with a kiss. His tongue dipped into her mouth in a gentle demand. When had he become so helpless to her? So in need of her? His tongue played tag with hers as her soft lips parted on a sigh. She drove him into high gear with each whimper. He flattened his hand beside her head on the couch, holding her captive for his invasion. Allowing no escape.

Jeanette wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a much deeper taste. He groaned his approval and sucked at her tongue, eager to gobble her up. Her legs opened, and River moved his body on top of hers, settling himself into the cradle of his thighs.

He pulled back an inch, both of them gasping. He took hold of one of her hands and rubbed it over the fly of his jeans, showing her how much she affected him. “Do you feel that?”

“Yes,” she breathed out as she cupped him in one small fist.

“You want it?” he asked, his voice rough with arousal. “You want me?”

“So much it hurts,” she answered. She sat up and brought him up against her body, rubbing her breasts against his chest. River had to bite back a groan. “But I’d like to take it slow. Explore a little.”

“Explore?” River’s throat was as

dry as the Sahara. She was as needy as he was, and he loved the hell out of it. Never had he thought anything could be so damn hot as Jeanette needy and anxious for him to love her. If only he could give in to his body’s demands and pull her into his arms, then carry her off to his bed. He wouldn’t bother with niceties. He’d damn well tear her clothes off and have his wicked way with her.

“Would you let me…play, River?”

Ah, hell. He was pretty sure he knew what she meant by that, but he needed to be 100 percent sure they were both on the same page.

“Play?” he asked as he cupped her waist and anchored her against him.

Her cheeks turned pink, and River nearly exploded out of his jeans at the pretty sight. “Yes,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’d like to take a little time getting to know your body. If that’s okay with you.”

Damn, but he liked that idea. A hell of a lot. His throat closed up, forcing him to nod his agreement.

A slow, sexy smile spread across her face. “I’m really curious what you look like naked. What you’d feel like under my fingertips. Wondering about that keeps me up at night. Did you know that?”

River grabbed her shoulders and maneuvered their bodies so that he was lying on the couch and she sat astride him. He moved his hands away and pressed his hard cock into the softness just below her navel. Jeanette moaned, or it might have been him. Hell, he wasn’t really sure.

“What do you do when you think of me, sunshine?”

Jeanette loved the endearment. Sunshine. She’d noticed over the years that he only called her that, no other woman. It made her feel special. But her shyness reared its ugly head as she thought of his intimate question. What did she do when she thought of him? No way could she answer that. Way too X-rated. She couldn’t tell him something so personal.

“Come on, tell me what you do,” River cajoled, as if unwilling to let her retreat into her shell. He moved his hips lower so that he pushed and stroked the juncture between her legs. A cry of need escaped her. River gave her little butterfly kisses along her lips and cheeks, until finally he was barely touching her ear. “Do you touch yourself when you think of me? Do your hands caress and your fingers stroke? Tell me, sunshine.”

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