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“Fuck, yeah.”
Her body took over, and suddenly she exploded. Her orgasm went on and on as River wrung every bit of pleasure from her he could.
The cat must have gotten her tongue, because she suddenly couldn’t speak. She turned and tilted her head upward for his kiss. His mouth was a gentle touch against hers and it made Jeanette’s heart flutter. He nibbled at her lower lip, eating at her, taking little bites.
Reason flew out the window, and need rushed in. All at once, she was on fire. Her insides melted to liquid lava. River grabbed a thick, blue towel off a hook and made quick work of drying them both. After he tossed it aside, Jeanette wrapped her arms around his neck, and in one fluid movement, he picked her up and moved with decisive strides to the bedroom. She wondered if he ached to be inside of her as much as she needed to have him filling her up. Did River feel this beautiful yearning to join?
Jeanette squirmed until River set her back on her feet. He took one step and gripped her arms, pulling her to him. Her nipples flattened against his chest, and someone moaned.
River walked her backward, holding her against him, sliding his tongue across her lips as he did. They both fell to the bed, breathless. She encircled her arms around his neck and attempted to wrap her legs around his waist, but he stopped her. He lifted away, and she pleaded with him to come back. Suddenly, he was there, kissing her in a way that demanded her total surrender. Slowly, he sat back on his haunches and lifted her legs around his waist before he came down all the way until her breasts were smashed against him.
“You’re very flexible,” he said, his voice a husky whisper in the quiet room.
“Thank you.” Lame, but she couldn’t think what else to say.
His tongue delved into her mouth at the same time his cock slid inside her. She fit him like a snug, silky glove. Jeanette sucked at his tongue, and River stiffened as her muscles clamped and pumped him. It drove him over the edge. He pushed into her with frenzied thrusts, the necessity to be so deep she’d never get him out of her system paramount, binding them together in the most elemental way possible. They both moaned and flew over the edge.
River rolled to his back, taking her with him, letting her stretch out her legs as she lay replete atop him. He stroked her soaked hair and held her until he heard her soft, even breathing.
To hell with it. He refused to let her go. No one would ever taste her delectable body but him. It was selfish. She should be with a guy like Mike, a perfectly dressed college guy with a bright future. Jeanette deserved the world on a silver platter, but River wasn’t stepping aside. Ever.
Jeanette woke to warmth. When she moved and realized River had covered her with not one but two blankets, her heart did little cartwheels. It all came slamming back at her. The man. The sex. The climaxes, as in multiple. Oh my, was her dream finally coming true? She’d wanted it to happen so badly that she was afraid it was all just a dream.
She stretched her arms above her head, yawning herself awake. Her muscles ached. Muscles she’d forgotten even existed. She looked between her thighs and saw the purplish mark on her inner thigh. It definitely hadn’t been a dream. She looked around for River but came up empty. She started to get up, but the only problem with that plan was the fact she was buck naked. He’d been serious about keeping her nude, it seemed. Remembering just how she’d ended up that way had her grinning like a naughty teenager who’d just skipped class.
Jeanette headed for the closet on the adjacent wall. As she slid open the door to the left, she found what she was looking for—a collection of River’s T-shirts. And there were a lot of them. Apparently, he liked to keep things simple. Not a lot of colors or styles, just a boatload of whites, blacks, grays. She grabbed a white one, pulled it over her head and let it fall to midthigh, then turned toward the bathroom.
After she flipped the light switch on, her reflection in the mirror above the sink nearly scared the wits out of her. “Holy hell.” Her hair was a tangled mess, and her face was scrubbed free of makeup. There were even a few red patches from the rough stubble of River’s jaw. She didn’t care, though. She’d put up with a little bit of redness if it meant having River kiss every inch of her body the way he had last night.
The juncture between her thighs began to throb at the memory of his sexy mouth and skillful hands. He’d strummed her body like a finely tuned guitar. And she wanted to experience it all over again.
She turned on the cold water and splashed her face several times. It helped to take some of the redness out of her cheeks, but her hair was way beyond repair. Jeanette felt a little less dreadful by the time she turned off the light and left the bathroom.
As she moved down the hall, she glanced longingly at the closed door leading to River’s office. River had always said the room was off limits. She’d always respected his wishes, but that was before, in the pre-relationship days. Surely he wouldn’t mind if she went in there now. Curiosity got the better of her, and she tried the doorknob. Unlocked. She opened the door and stepped inside. She located a light switch and flipped it. Much like the rest of River’s apartment, this room was neat and free of clutter. A large desk dominated the room. Other than a couch, a filing cabinet and a bookshelf, there wasn’t any other furniture in the room.
She walked over to the desk and saw a pretty glass paperweight. Her fingers absently stroked across the top of it as her gaze roamed the room. Why did she get the feeling she was seeing into the man’s private world. A world no human had ever seen. Jeanette felt a little guilty and turned to leave when a stack of papers caught her eye. She picked up the first page and read the words across the top. Dead Eyes by R. J. Adams. Her heart skipped a beat.
R. J. Adams, as in the author of all the popular suspense novels? It couldn’t be. The sensual, passionate man she’d slept with was not a reclusive author. She just couldn’t reconcile the two images. Then again, no one had ever seen a picture of the man and he never did interviews. Could it be? She’d always wondered how he could afford to help out during the renovation of the Blackwater Restaurant. She knew River did odd jobs around town, but that wouldn’t pay for all the extras, like the parcel of land he’d shown her. But why hadn’t he shared this side of himself with her?
Jeanette had read every single one of his books. She loved the suspense, the drama, and, oh wow, the love scenes. Of course, now she might know firsthand why those books were so steamy. If it was true that River had written them, the author knew his way around a woman’s body. She grinned mischievously as she considered helping him with his research.
Looking down at the paper in her hand, Jeanette began to read the first chapter.
Kathryn could feel her own pulse quicken. It was odd, but there it was. Fear, liquid and icy-cold, pumped through her veins. Her body began to shake too, as she heard the footsteps behind her. Coming closer. Someone was following her.
“Stupid,” Kathryn mumbled. She knew she should have waited with Frank before heading down to the garage. But Frank was always trying to get in her pants, and it was incredibly annoying. Especially considering the asshole was married. She rolled her eyes. It was a sad day when she found Frank’s exasperating presence comforting.
Kathryn reached into her purse and nabbed her keys. She always kept them handy, remembering at least one of the safety tips she’d learned from her brother, George. Geez, how lame was this. Someone could kill her here, in the dark, damp parking garage, and no one would even know until they found her limp, lifeless body. Now she understood why her mother had always told her to wear clean underwear. Seriously, though, should that be her first concern? Probably not. Instead, she should be worried about fighting off an attacker.
Then she heard it again. It sounded like metal pieces clanking together. Keys? Maybe it wasn’t a crazed serial killer. Maybe it was just some other poor schmuck who worked in this lousy building. She was imagining the menace in the air. Her imagination was always getting the better of her.
The sound grew louder now, as if they were slowly closing in. Kathryn went beyond scared with that horrible thought, flung her purse onto her shoulder and ran, keys at the ready. When she reached her car, she would be prepared to quickly unlock it and jump in. No problemo.
But the sounds sped up, easily keeping pace with her, turning her fear into a living, breathing entity. Then, just as Kathryn reached the door to her black Cavalier, a hand closed over her left shoulder, swinging her around. Kathryn screamed—
“Can I help you with something?”
And like poor, helpless Kathryn, Jeanette jumped and yelled. And not some dainty yell either. No, she had to let out a wild banshee kind of yell.
