Lost and Found

Chapter Thirty-Four

“What’s wrong? You’re sorry you did this, aren’t you?”

“No, I’m not sorry. It was a crazy, fucked up plan that ended up going way wrong, but…God, Krissa.” He rubbed his face, not sure what to say, how much to tell her.

“You still haven’t really told me why you came.”

She watched him quietly, waiting.

“I…did tell you. I just heard you and Derek split up.”

“Yeah. But why did you come?”

She was pushing him. Amazing. “I’m not sure, actually. I wanted to make sure you were okay, I guess.”

“That’s it?”

He stared at her, shaking inside. “No, that’s not it. I had to see you Krissa. Christ, I’ve missed you.”

“Oh.” The word was a breath. “I missed you too.”

Their gazes connected and held for a long, stretched out moment. “I had to see you, Krissa. I was worried about you, and I missed you and…”

She waited.

“I wanted to tell you.”

A frown tugged her brows down.

“About Derek and Lauren. When I found out that night. I wanted to tell you. I wanted you to know what he’d done, that he was a goddamn dirtbag. I wanted you to hate him. I wanted you to leave him.”

She stared at him, wide-eyed, and blinked.

“But I couldn’t.” He closed his eyes briefly. “I couldn’t do it. You were married to him. You loved the guy.” The words stuck in his tight throat. “So I left. If I’d told you that, I would have been destroying your marriage.”

“You wouldn’t have destroyed my marriage. Derek did that.”

They looked into each other’s eyes, a look full of tortured emotion and questions. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I just couldn’t do it. I thought you loved him. But I…”

She waited. He swallowed hard. “I loved you too.”

“Oh.” Her eyes grew glossy. “Oh, Nate.” Her mouth trembled and she put a hand to his cheek. He closed his eyes. It was okay if she didn’t love him back.

He swallowed past the baseball in his throat. “That’s where our whole crazy plan went wrong. I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you.”

“No. That wasn’t supposed to happen.” Her voice was a sigh. “But I fell in love with you too, Nate.”

He opened his eyes, uncertain of what he’d heard.

“I knew I loved you, but I was so confused. I was married and I loved my husband. I thought I loved both of you. But now I know my feelings for Derek had changed.” She blinked at him, mouth quivering. “I can’t tell you how much I resented him for how he judged me all those years, how he blamed me for things that weren’t even my fault, how he blamed me for his stupid mistakes. Being apart from you all these months, thinking about you all the time…I missed you so much. I thought I’d get over you, eventually. Or maybe not.” She smiled crookedly.

“It was a helluva mess.”

“Yes.”

“It’s just you and me now.”

“Yes.”

His eyes dropped to her stomach. “And junior.”

She laughed. “Yes.”

“I want to see you, Krissa.”

She bit her lip, gave a short nod, let him tug apart the sides of the robe, exposing the inner curves of her breasts. He undid the belt and drew it to each side, then parted the robe and pushed it away. He gazed down at her body.

She looked up at him with anxious eyes. He trailed a finger over the curve of a breast that was fuller, but still perfect. He stroked the gentle swell of her stomach, his eyes devouring the sight of her lush femininity. Everywhere else she looked the same—smooth golden skin, tiny freckles here and there, the patch of dark curls between her legs.

He lowered his head and pressed his lips to her rounded belly, laid his cheek there and closed his eyes. When he lifted his face, his eyes were damp.

“I love you, Krissa.”

“I love you too, Nate.” She put her arms out to him and drew her against him, her frame still slender, even in the bulky robe. Only inches separated their faces. Nate dragged his gaze away from her eyes and looked at her mouth. The plump bottom lip parted slightly from the top just so he could see the edge of her white teeth.

He heard her indrawn breath, felt the tremors of her soft body in his arms. Her scent intoxicated him, surrounded him. So close he could see each tiny, pale freckle, each eyelash as her lids drifted shut and her mouth moved closer to him.

He moved too, felt her breath whisper on his lips, felt her heart knocking against him. He saw the pulse, just as quick, beneath the fine skin of her throat.

Then their mouths met, in an agonizing, excruciatingly beautiful kiss. Her mouth was heaven, sweet and soft. He stroked inside with his tongue, and she opened for him, met his tongue with hers. He kissed her again and again, long, slow, clinging kisses, their tongues brushing as they drew apart in slow, lush licks. She moaned deep in her throat, slid her hands around his neck, pulled him closer.

He lifted her onto his lap, turned her, tipped her back against the arm rest of the couch, leaned into her. He needed to taste more of her, more of her sweet mouth. He went to touch her hair but it was all stuck up in some kind of clip thing. He felt around, figured out how to open it and released her hair. It tumbled damp and wavy around her shoulders and he threaded his hand into it, twisted it around his fingers and gave a little tug, eliciting a whimper from her that had his blood sizzling through his veins.

It thrilled him that he remembered what she liked, that she liked what he did. He drew back, just a little, to look at her face. Heat sparked, ignited and grew between them as their kisses deepened, as he cupped one breast in his hand, rubbed his thumb over the nipple. His throat ached, and his heart lurched with overwhelming emotion. He couldn’t get close enough to her, could never get enough of her.

Her tummy was definitely there. It made him cautious. He drew back, fighting for breath. “Krissa. The baby.”

She gave him a slow, sexy smile. “The baby doesn’t know what we’re doing.”

“I mean, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t hurt me.”

He kissed her again, deep, open-mouthed kisses, eating her up, trailed his fingers down the side of her neck into the opening of the robe, over her collarbone. He rubbed the top curve of her breast.

He drew back to look down at her and gazed into her eyes. The love shining there punched him like a fist in the gut, spreading warmth and relief and gratitude through him.

Without words, he helped her up from the couch, and she led him into her bedroom. His eyes took in the pretty crib in the corner. The big bed, crib and a white painted dresser occupied almost all the space in the small room. He pictured Krissa living here with the baby, the two of them sleeping in this small room so close, and his heart squeezed.

He pushed the robe off her shoulders and let it crumple on the floor at her feet. He couldn’t stop himself from touching her stomach again, fascinated with its swelling. He stroked over it, down her waist. His fingers trailed over her hips, up and around. Then while his hand rested there he felt movement—like a small spasm beneath the skin. “Oh.” He looked up at Krissa.

“Did you feel that?”

“Yeah. Holy hell.”

She smiled, put her hand over his and held it there until they felt another small bump. His heart full of wonder and awe, he struggled to breathe.

“Oh, wow. Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?”

She shook her head. “I’ve been calling it Peanut.”

He laughed. “We’ll think of something better when he or she is born.”

“Yeah.”

He kissed her mouth, softly, reverently. “It’s amazing, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” The word whispered against his mouth. She wound her arms around his neck and pressed against him. They stood like that, his hands on the sides of her tummy, their foreheads together, noses side by side, just breathing in each other. Then Krissa shifted her mouth closer to his and he took it in a long, hungry kiss.

They moved to the bed, and he laid her gently down on the simple white duvet. It puffed up around her, and she laid there, dark hair spread beneath her head, all smooth glowing skin, shiny eyes and captivating smile. He studied her as he undid the buttons of his shirt, pulling it out of his jeans as he did. His eyes wandered over the slender curve of her arms, the shadows between her legs, the way her small toes curled into the duvet, tugging something inside him as always. Then he stepped out of jeans, socks and underwear, shed his shirt. He lay down beside her, hand on her belly, elbow bent, his head propped on his hand.

Luminous green eyes turned to him.

“How should we do this?” he asked, uncertain if being on top of her was okay.

“I don’t know.” She bit her lip. “I haven’t had sex since this baby was conceived, so…I’m not sure how it works.”

He sucked in a breath. “It was that night in Los Angeles, wasn’t it?”

She nodded, watching him.

“I’m glad,” he whispered. “I’m glad it was just the two of us.”

“Me, too.”

He pressed his face between her breasts, breathed in her peachy scent, then kissed the inside curve of each full breast. When he kissed a nipple, she drew in a sharp breath. “Oh.”

He lifted his head. “Okay?”

“Mmm. My nipples are sensitive. And…”

“What?”

“They’ve been…um…leaking a little bit.”

He swallowed. He stared down at the puckered nipples, bigger, darker pink, beautiful. “Can I…”

“Yes.” Her hands went to his head. “I want you to.”

He took a nipple in his mouth and sucked, rubbed his tongue over it. She tasted so sweet and her whimpers told him she loved what he did to her. He moved to the other nipple, tasted it too, played with it with his mouth while his fingers plucked at the other, tested the weight of her breast, squeezed it gently.

“That feels so good,” she moaned, fingers sifting through his hair. Her body twitched and writhed against him. “So good.”

He drew back to study her nipples after his attention, now even redder and stiffer and he watched in fascination as tiny white droplets slowly formed on the tips. “Oh, God,” he breathed. Krissa lifted her head to look at herself.

“That’s what I mean,” she murmured.

A fist squeezed his throat and his heart thumped hard. “Do you want to be on top?”

She gazed up at him. “I don’t know. I think it’s okay if you are.”

He moved over her and she reached for his cock, long, hard and throbbing. Her hands on him felt sublime, soft yet firm, stroking him in long pulls that sent pleasure licking over his skin.

“Inside me,” she said. “Please.”

“Yeah.” He let her guide him into her, felt her wetness, then her heat surrounded the head of his cock. Hot velvet, squeezing him. A low, rough sound tore from his throat. He held his weight on his elbows and really, she wasn’t that big, he just straightened his arms a bit to hold his body higher. She parted her legs wider, and he pushed into her in. The air ripped out of his lungs.

“Krissa, oh, God.”

“I know.” Her hands clutched his ass, pulled him deeper. “Fuck me, Nate.”

His groans mingled with her sighs as their bodies came together, perfect, easy and right. He surged into her, their connection intimate, joining not just their bodies but their hearts and their souls. Something touched him inside, a searing, exquisite sensation that he recognized as love. Something he thought he’d never feel again. And at that moment he knew he’d never felt this kind of love before. An overwhelming desire to protect and take care of her and their child, to be with them forever, made his eyes sting.

It hurt. Love hurt. It hurt like hell to think he’d found that kind of love with her, and lost her. He wasn’t even sure if she’d been his to lose, yet he’d known she had feelings for him, too, after that night in L.A. It made him wonder why he was so grateful to her for ripping open those old wounds, for letting him feel the pain he’d managed to avoid for years. And now he knew why.

Because love was a tender torment, an irresistible anguish that made everything else worthwhile. There was nothing else that mattered.

His hands framed her face, and his gaze held hers. He saw a reflection of his own devotion, his own longing, his own hope in her eyes, drawing him in. “I love you, Krissa. I love you.”

Her hands stroked over his back and he felt the tenderness in her touch, heard her pleasure in her muffled whimpers, leaned in and felt her love in the brush of her breath against his mouth. “I love you, too, Nate.”

Her body tightened beneath him and around him as she climaxed, squeezing him inside and out. She cried out and he watched her face, humbled by her beauty, by the ecstasy he saw there because of him, awed and gratified by her love. Pressure built at the base of his spine and in his balls, building to his own exquisite peak of pleasure. Her hands gripped his hips as he drove into her one…more…time…and exploded. Lights flashed as his lids squeezed shut against the intensity of his orgasm, and when he poured himself into her in long, hard almost painful pulses, he felt truly joined to this woman.

They settled beneath the soft warmth of the duvet, curled into each other. The protrusion of her tummy still felt unfamiliar but he liked it. He pressed his cheek against the top of her head and smiled.

“You’re sure Peanut doesn’t know what we’re doing?”

She laughed. “Yes.”

He loved her arms around him, stroking his back, down over the curve of his ass, dragging her fingers up the crevice there. Jesus, he was going to be hard again in two minutes if she kept that up.

“Where did you go when you left?” she asked him in a drowsy voice.

“To my parents.”

“Good.” He heard the satisfaction in her voice and smiled.

“Yeah. Thanks to you.”

“Why me?”

“I owe you everything, Krissa.”

She tilted her head back to look at him.

“I was…dead. Inside. After Lauren died, and then I found out about her cheating, I just…shut down. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, didn’t want sympathy. I didn’t want to talk to people who knew us, who would be all ‘poor Lauren, such a wonderful girl’ when I knew the truth, and yet, I didn’t want to tell people about it, either. So I just avoided everyone who knew us. Ran away and took pictures.”

“And did damn good at it.”

“Yeah. But I was feeling…nothing. And then when my eyes were screwed, I was just pissed off at everything and everyone. Until you.”

He held her gaze.

“You made me feel stuff again, Krissa. You made me feel good. God, you made me feel more than good. You ripped holes in me.” She blinked at him, her smile quivering. “But when I started feeling good, all the bad stuff came, too. I didn’t want to feel it—I didn’t want to hurt. I didn’t want to feel the pain of being betrayed or losing someone I loved, but I started to feel that too, two years later. I didn’t want to fall in love again.” He shook his head, touched her cheek with gentle fingers. “And when I realized what I’d felt for Lauren was nothing compared to what I felt for you…Christ, it scared the hell out of me. Especially knowing you belonged to someone else.”

He closed his eyes, heard her small murmur. “When we first slept together, it was supposed to be a donation. Nothing more. No feelings involved.”

“I knew that. It hurt me.”

“I know. I tried to make it better for you after that, but I didn’t realize my own feelings were going to get all mixed up in it. Like you ripped something open and it all came spilling out.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, it was good. I needed that. I don’t know what would have happened to me if I’d never dealt with all that stuff—the grief, the anger I felt toward Lauren. I’m afraid of what might’ve happened to me.”

He stroked her hair off her forehead, rested his hand there. “I won’t make the same mistakes with you. I won’t leave you, Krissa. Any longer than I have to. I know I was partially responsible for what happened with Lauren.”

“No.” She looked at him. “No, don’t do what I do. Don’t blame yourself for things that aren’t your fault.”

“I’m not taking all the blame. Believe me, I know Lauren was responsible for her own decisions. But…I have to accept some responsibility for things I did wrong. I know I neglected her. My career was just taking off. I was so excited, it was all I could think about.” He shook his head. “I was an idiot. But…I didn’t feel the way I do now. Sad to say. The truth is…I couldn’t leave you like I did Lauren.” He wouldn’t be taking off for months at a time to travel, like he did with Lauren. If he had to go for more than a couple of weeks, Krissa—and the baby—would come with him. He wouldn’t put his career over his family.

“You are so different from Derek,” she whispered.

“I watched you keep your anger all bottled up inside you and I knew you couldn’t keep doing that either. Some day it was going to come exploding out of you.”

“Oh, yeah. It came out.” She giggled. “You should have seen my parents’ faces when I told them about us.”

“Oh, Jesus. What did you say?”

“My mom figured we’d been screwing around on Derek after that morning she showed up.” She related her conversation with her parents, designed to shock them. And she told him about Cameron.

“Wow,” he said. “When you let it out, you let it out.”

“I never would have if it weren’t for you. You made me fight.”

“Ah, bunny.” He gathered her close.

“I’m not responsible for everyone’s problems.”

“Uh…no.”

“I’ve always felt that way,” she confessed into his chest. He stroked her hair. “With my mom, and with Derek. He did blame me for our problems. Even when we realized it wasn’t me that couldn’t get pregnant, he still made me feel like it was all my fault. It was my fault that he had to go screw other women.”

“Jesus. I’ll kill the fucking bastard.”

She moved her head against him. “No. Don’t kill him. He’ll figure it out. Maybe he already has.”

Nate knew he and Krissa had betrayed Derek. Derek had known about them, approved of it, encouraged them to have sex—but he hadn’t planned on them falling in love.

“I want us to be together, Krissa,” he said. “I want to be a father to this baby.”

She rolled toward him, pushed him onto his back and moved over him. “I want that too.” Eyes glistening, she bent and kissed him. “I love you. And I’m so sorry for how this started.”

“Don’t be sorry. Things happen for a reason. It was whacked, but in the end—maybe we all get what we deserve. I don’t know why I deserve you, but I’m just going to count myself lucky. I’m just sorry I lost my best friend.”

“Maybe you can forgive him some day.”

And maybe one day Derek would forgive him, too. A sad and hopeful anticipation filled him.

“I think I understand why he did what he did,” Krissa continued. “He just wasn’t a strong enough man to accept responsibility for his mistakes. And then he tried to make them right by using us to make him feel better. I was so determined to get what I wanted, I let him do it.”

“We all have our weaknesses.” And clearly, Krissa was his. He, too, had been drawn into Derek’s manipulations and he had to admit he hadn’t resisted all that hard. He’d known the kinds of problems they could face doing what they’d done, but he’d done it anyway because he’d been unable to resist Krissa’s sweet temptation. Logic and the knowledge of consequences, right versus wrong, had nothing to do with decisions made with the heart.

“Does he know…you’re pregnant?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t told him. I haven’t seen him other than just after I left. I wasn’t showing then. He may have heard from other people, though.” She sighed. “When he blamed me for him screwing around, that was it. I couldn’t take any more.”

“I wish you’d called me. I hate thinking about you being alone, finding out you were pregnant when you were alone.”

“I think it was good,” she whispered, stroking a hand through his hair, then over his cheek. “I had to be alone. I was so confused. I thought I loved Derek, and I thought I loved you. Then I felt like I hated him. I didn’t know how I felt. I was a mess.”

He covered her hand with his, pressed a kiss to her palm.

“I needed to figure myself out before I could figure us out,” she continued. Her eyes pleaded with him for understanding. And he did.

“I know.” He paused. “Me, too. Christ, Krissa, I didn’t know how lost I was. Until I found you.”

They’d done things that many would consider unforgivable. Nate wasn’t sure why he and Krissa were lucky enough to have found a second chance; a chance at happiness together. But he wasn’t going to risk losing it again. Facing the loss of his eyesight and his photography had been painful, but losing Krissa had been the worst agony of all.

She leaned in and kissed him. “We found ourselves. And we found each other.”

About the Author

To learn more about Kelly Jamieson please visitwww.kellyjamieson.com. Send an e-mail to info@kellyjamieson.com or join her Yahoo! Group http://groups.yahoo.com/group/KellyJamiesonnewsletter/ to get the latest news and contests.

Look for these titles by Kelly Jamieson

Now Available:

Love Me

Friends With Benefits

Love Me More

2 Hot 2 Handle

They agreed: All the fun, no messy emotions. Until their charkas aligned..

Friends With Benefits

© 2009 Kelly Jamieson

Yoga is Kerri Harris’s life, but that doesn’t mean she’s a New Age flake. She’s a successful businesswoman, and it’s about time everyone took her as seriously as her mother-of-two, “real-career” sister. That means adding a new item to her spreadsheet—marriage plan. There’s only one person she trusts to help her check off this task: her best friend Mitch.

Divorce attorney Mitch MacAuley gets the cold shivers at the mere mention of matrimony. After the disasters he’s witnessed from childhood, marriage equals miserable. The last thing he wants is to help Kerri down that road, but he’s never been able to say no to her. He expects to feel pity for her as she goes on one disastrous date after another. The complete surprise? Thinking about Kerri with those other guys makes him crazy.

Her frustration collides with his confusion, leading to a big fight, a hot kiss and a scorching sexual tension that hits them both broadside. Prompting Kerri to propose a new plan…to add the bedroom to their list of BFF benefits.

They quickly find out there’s nothing casual about the heat they generate. In fact, the burn could ruin a perfectly beautiful friendship.

Warning: This story contains a late-night booty call, hot hotel sex and naked yoga!

Enjoy the following excerpt for Friends With Benefits:

“I can’t believe you’ve set me up with all these guys and every single one of them has been all wrong for me. Not just wrong for me…like, not even close.”

“Uh…Kerri. I didn’t set you up with Eric. You met him at the golf tournament.”

“Well. You invited me to the golf tournament.”

Mitch sighed.

“It’s not just a coincidence, is it? You are doing this on purpose because you don’t want me to get married.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” he corrected her.

“So you admit it!”

“No! No, I don’t. You’re twisting things.”

She snorted. “How do you tell when a lawyer is lying? His lips are moving.”

At that moment, Sela poked her head in to say she was leaving.

“I thought you left hours ago!” Kerri exclaimed. “What about your shopping?”

Sela glanced at her watch. “We still have time. Doug is bringing the girls to Paseo Nuevo and I’m meeting them there.”

“Go, go.” Kerri waved her hands. After they heard the door close behind Sela, she sighed. “That woman really has to learn to balance. Her family is paying the price for this move.”

Mitch nodded. “She is kind of driven, isn’t she?”

Kerri studied him. “Like you aren’t.”

He shrugged. “I balance fine.”

She glanced at him, remembering they’d been interrupted while starting to have a big fight.

“Look, Kerri,” he said. “I know you’re not happy, but you can’t blame me for all this. You have a role in it too.”

She gaped at him. “What are you saying? Are you saying I’m such a loser I can’t manage to attract a guy?”

“Jesus, no! That’s not what I’m saying.” He ran a hand through his hair.

“So you’re saying I’m deliberately sabotaging things for some strange subconscious reason of my own?”

He stared at her. “What drugs are you on? You’re acting nuts today.”

“Yeah, I’m crazy, that must be why I can’t find a husband.”

“Aaarrrgh!” He slid down the wall until he lay on the floor and covered his face with his hands. With his arms up like that, Kerri could see the paler skin on the underside, which emphasized the bulge of his biceps below the sleeves of his T-shirt. He stayed like that for a moment, dragging big, slow breaths into his lungs.

Kerri rolled in her lips and scooted a few inches away. Mitch had a temper, but he’d learned to control it over the years. And okay, she was acting like a bitch and hated herself for it, but the words just kept coming out of her mouth. She was just so frustrated and disappointed and Mitch was there to poke at, take out her frustrations on. A shiver trickled down her spine. Maybe she’d pushed too far.

She bit her lip as she looked at him. With his arms raised, his snug T-shirt had ridden up and she could see tanned, ripped abs and a hint of golden brown hair just above the low-riding waistband of his jeans. His hair was all tousled from running his hands through it. She swallowed.

She put a hand on his arm tentatively, wanting to apologize, fearful she’d pushed him too far and now he’d be really mad at her. She knew she could get away with a lot with Mitch and he just laughed at her, indulgently let her act all princessy, then called her on it and brought her back down to earth. But maybe this time his patience had run out.

His arms jerked away from his face at her gentle touch and she jumped back. He grabbed her hand, held it tightly. Now she could see his eyes flashing dark gold, his jaw clenched so tight she was sure it must hurt.

“M-mitch…I’m…”

“Kerri.” He growled, low and rough. “Just stop right now.”

She nodded a bit frantically. “I’m sorry. You can let go of my hand now.”

His fingers actually tightened on hers, crushing them, and she yanked on her hand. “Ow! Mitch, you’re hurting me! Let go.”

His hot gaze held hers as she tried to pull free.

“Jesus, Kerri.” His voice still sounded low and rough. “You can only push me so far.”

Her eyes wide, she watched a vein throb in his temple. She again tugged her hand away from his but he wouldn’t let go, rather pulled her toward him. She put her other hand out, palm flat on his chest, hot and hard under the soft T-shirt, to push him away. The warm scents of laundry detergent and male skin mingled as she breathed in, and she trembled.

She pushed ineffectually at him as he dragged her toward him, right up against him, practically on top of him.

“Mitch.” She struggled against him, but he was stronger than she was, and his powerful arms held her there. God, he was warm.

One big hand slid into her hair and cupped the back of her head. They stared at each other, Kerri’s heart banging against her ribs, tension crackling between them like static electricity, and then he pulled her to him and her mouth met his.

“Mmmph.” She tried to protest, shocked to her toes at Mitch’s actions. She dragged her mouth away from his. “Mitch! What are you doing? Are you—”

He kissed her again, his hands holding her head against his mouth and her body against his. Again, her palms pushed on his chest, but something happened inside her and to her shock and horror she was…aroused.

The liquid warmth between her legs and the flippy feeling of excitement low in her tummy stunned her. No! This was Mitch, her friend! She couldn’t be feeling like this. And what the hell was he doing?

He was kissing her. And kissing her again. And God, he was a really good kisser, his mouth firm and warm on hers, opening over hers, and her mouth parted for him. Astonishingly, she was kissing him back.

The room spun around her as he flipped her gently so she lay on her back, and he shifted beside her, so he was almost lying on top of her, his body big and heavy and warm against hers.

His mouth continued to devour her—long, consuming kisses, his tongue licking into her mouth, filling her mouth, and it was so exciting she thought she might burst into flames. God, it had obviously been a long time since she’d been with a guy if she was responding like this to Mitch. But she had never been so turned on as she was right then, and helplessly she arched into him, her hands clutching his shoulders through the soft cotton of his shirt and she kissed him back. Her tongue stroked his and he tasted faintly of the tea he’d had earlier and delicious warm male, so she opened wider, letting his tongue in, sucking his tongue, devouring him.

No, no, no. This should not be happening. The thought intruded into her foggy brain. But dear God, it felt so, so good.

“No,” she managed to moan, pulling her mouth away from his warm, wet one. “Mitch. This is wrong…”

“Christ, Kerri,” he muttered, burying his face into her neck, breathing deeply. “Christ.”

Her hands stilled on his shoulders as she felt him regaining some control, then she pushed hard and wriggled out from under his weight. She scrambled away from him on her hands and knees, half afraid he was going to grab her again, but he didn’t. He lay there, one arm covering his eyes, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths.

She sat on the floor, trembling. She put her fingers to her mouth and stared at Mitch in shock, unable to formulate any words. What had just happened?

Finally Mitch spoke. “Jesus, Kerri, I’m sorry,” he ground out.

“You damn well better be!”

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “You pushed my buttons…you just kept at it and I just…lost it.”

“But, Mitch…”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Anger flared in her, hot fury that he would do that, that he would jeopardize their friendship like that, that he would actually use her like that—and he was her best friend!

She jumped to her feet and rubbed her hands over her face. She twisted her hands together. Then she went over and punched his shoulder, as hard as she could.

“Ow!” He was totally unprepared, eyes still covered, and he jerked up. “What the hell was that? Jesus!

“You stupid, horny idiot! What the hell do you think you were doing? You’re supposed to be my friend!”

Not everyone has to go looking for love…for a lucky few, love finds them.

Shelter From the Storm

© 2010 Samantha Sommersby

In any other circumstance, Jennifer Jones’s first meeting with Maclain Moore would have been called serendipity, a happy coincidence. She’s looking for a new roommate; he’s looking for a place to live. It doesn’t hurt that he’s sexy as hell, either.

But the man who crosses her threshold isn’t there to sign on the dotted line—he’s the bearer of news bad enough to shake the very foundation of her life. A life built around a fierce sense of independence, born of a violent incident from her past.

Mac is no stranger to heartache. His career in social work immerses him in it, plus he has his own share of skeletons rattling around in his closet. His attempts to comfort Jennifer bring the two of them closer together. With each touch, she becomes harder to resist. Mac’s body’s response would try the patience of a saint. And a saint he’s not.

Baring her soul isn’t high on her list, but she finds herself opening up to Mac in ways that make it hard to hold him at arm’s length. And as her life spins out of control, their growing passion becomes the only tangible thing she can cling to…

This book has been previously published and has been revised and expanded from its original release.

Warning: This book may spoil you for real relationships. It contains a beautiful woman with a dark and dangerous past, sensational sailboat sex and a leather-wearing, motorcycle-riding man who loves kids, knows how to cook and actually listens.

Enjoy the following excerpt for Shelter From the Storm:

“One failed relationship and you’re willing to throw in the towel?” Mac climbed onto the bed and leaned back, resting comfortably on his elbows. “You’ve got to tell me why?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yeah, you do. We’re friends, first and foremost. As your friend, I deserve an explanation.”

Jennifer frowned. “Could you put a shirt on for the rest of this conversation?”

Mac looked down at his six-pack abs and smiled. “No. But I wouldn’t mind if you evened the score and took off your nightgown.”

Jennifer realized that was all she was wearing. Her nipples were hard and peaked and embarrassingly visible through the sheer silk fabric. She blushed. “I need to get a robe.”

“You don’t need to run away and you don’t need a robe.”

Jennifer glanced toward the door.

Mac sighed dramatically. “I’m not going to ravage you.”

“Ravage me? Have you been reading those bodice rippers again?”

“Ha-ha. Come on, out with it. Let me hear the details.”

“Details?”

“Your dating and sexual history. I want to understand what I’m getting into here.”

“You’re not getting into anything.”

He patted the space on the bed beside him.

Jennifer shook her head. “I so don’t remember agreeing to anything.”

“You will. It’s only a matter of time. I’m irresistible.”

“I think you mean irrepressible.”

“That too.”

“You know?” Jennifer feigned a yawn. “I’m not sure I’m up to this tonight. I think I’m going to turn in.” Her gaze returned to the door.

Mac stood and began to pull down the covers. “You win. No sex. No talking. No pressure. Stay.”

“What?”

“Stay here with me.”

“You mean sleep with you in your bed?”

“I want to be close to you.”

Jennifer shook her head. “Not a good idea. You know it isn’t.”

Mac grinned widely “You don’t trust yourself. See, I told you, irresistible.”

She couldn’t help but smile at his confidence. “You’re a hard man to say no to.”

He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him. The evidence of his arousal was pressing against her. “I’m hard, I’ll give you that. You seem to have that affect on me. But I also know how to control myself.”

“Even that dark side?”

“The idea that I might lose control scares you.”

“It thrills me and that scares me. I made a mistake once. I can’t afford to make that kind of mistake again. I’m not sure I could survive it.” Jennifer stared into his deep blue eyes. “Goodnight, Mac.”

“Goodnight.”

She pulled herself from his embrace and headed for the door. As she placed her hand on the doorknob, he softly said, “This wouldn’t be a mistake. Give this a chance.”

“I’ve given myself to someone before. Completely. It wasn’t enough. Not enough to keep him.”

“I’m not him. I’m me.”

“What I have to offer will never be enough, not for anyone. I’m…empty inside.”

“You’re not empty. I’ve seen glimpses of the girl inside. You’re more than window dressing.” He was standing right behind her now. “You’re just closed off from trying to protect yourself.”

Jennifer turned back around and leaned against the door. “Protect myself from what?”

“From having to face your demons, whatever they may be. Because if you do, really do, you have to admit it could all change. And that’s terrifying beyond belief.”

Her mouth was suddenly dry. She licked her lips.

Mac placed a hand on either side of her head and leaned in, until his forehead touched hers. “You don’t have to be afraid,” he whispered. Seconds ticked away. He slowly lowered his hands until they rested comfortably on her waist. Their breathing became synchronized.

She closed her eyes and felt him, drinking in his scent, allowing the tenderness of the moment to surround her. She let go, if only for a moment, relinquishing control. She permitted him to lead. The pace of his inhalations became deeper, more impassioned. A soft moan escaped her lips. Her resolve was crumbling. She placed her hand, hesitantly, on his forearm.

Mac kissed her on the forehead, then pulled back. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight?”

“Go off to your room and go to sleep, like a good girl. You don’t want me turning into the big bad wolf.”

“Would you eat me?” Jennifer looked up at him, her voice carrying a tone of feigned innocence.

Mac placed his hands on the door above her head, pinning her in. “You know? That was plain mean. I’m never going to sleep now. I’ll be up all night with visions of… You have an evil streak, Jennifer Jones!”

“Me?”

“Yes, you.” He opened the door and stepped back. “And I swear, if you offer to let me spank you for punishment I’m going to totally lose it.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what possessed me.”

“Maybe unresolved sexual tension so thick I can taste it from the next room?”

“Yeah. Goodnight, Mac.” She left, closing the door quietly behind her.

“One, two, three…fuck it.” Mac yanked the door open. She was halfway down the hall. In two strides he was on her. He grabbed hold of her hand, yanked her toward him and backed her up against the wall, one hand around her waist, the other around her neck.

“Mac—”

He crushed his lips to hers in a breath-stealing kiss. He didn’t try to hide his arousal. He didn’t try to hold back. He was tired of holding back. He wanted to let go. He wanted her to let go.

Jennifer’s hands flew up and tangled in his hair.

Mac needed her to know what she did to him, how she affected him, to feel the power she had over him. He tilted his pelvis so his erection pressed against her soft stomach. It made her gasp. He took immediate advantage, boldly slipping his tongue inside, letting is curl around hers. She was delicious. Her mouth was warm, wet, and oh-so-amazingly-sweet.

As soon as he tasted her, he knew she had been right. He wanted her, all of her. There was no hesitancy, no doubt, no denial. It was about a need that was almost primal. He thought of himself as civilized and sensitive. But here he was, wanting to mark, possess, consume her. No. Holds. Barred. He pulled back abruptly.

Her hair was mussed. Her eyes were wide. Whether from arousal, fear or a combination of both, he didn’t know. In the dim light of the hallway, he could see her lips were red and full from his assault.

“You’re right,” Mac admitted, turning away from her.

Still panting she reached out to touch him. “About?”

He drew back. “I want to make you mine.”

Sadness filled her eyes.

He couldn’t help himself. His hand lifted and caressed her cheek. “If I were to be perfectly honest I would tell you I’ve thought of little else since I saw you in that elevator.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I’m probably no different than any other wanker you’ve ever dated, or slept with.” He took a fortifying breath before saying what needed to be said. “If you want me to move out, I will.”

“If I let you stay, are you going to attack me in the hallway again?”

He stepped back, breaking all contact.

“Mac?”

He looked her in the eye. “You didn’t push me away. You kissed me back. I wouldn’t have forced—”

Jennifer held up her hand. “I know. Now, it’s my turn to be honest. I needed that kiss. I wanted it, as much as you did. What I’m asking is, if you continue to live here, will it happen again?

“I don’t want to lie to you. Maybe. Probably. Not tonight, not tomorrow, but eventually. My kissing you again is a likely scenario.”

“You can stay.” She continued down the hall, into to her room “And, Mac?” She’d paused before closing the door.

“Yeah?”

“You are different.”

“Goodnight, Jennifer.”

“Goodnight.”

Beauty vs. power—a dangerous game with the heart as the prize…

For His Eyes Only

© 2009 Avery Beck

Jacey Cass radiates confidence and sensuality just once a year, when she meets her rich and powerful lover for a night of anonymous sex. The rest of her calendar is filled with the daily struggle to survive. Her cashier job at Insomnia, Miami’s hottest lingerie shop, doesn’t go far toward college tuition, but she’s determined to rise above her mother’s freeloading legacy.

Alex Vaughn is one promotion away from realizing his life’s ambition. For years he’s been forced to stand by and watch his father systematically destroy the values that made Insomnia great. Now, with an expected vacancy in the summer catalog, he takes a chance. He’s never formally met the fascinating woman he takes to bed every year, but he knows a marketable body when he sees one. The last thing he expects is for her to turn the opportunity down flat.

Jacey won’t consider a handout—even from the man whose white-hot caress is the one bright spot of her life. Then a modeling competition’s prize money lures her from behind the register and into the blinding spotlight, unaware of what the cost could be to her heart…

Warning: This title follows a young woman’s journey from fear of intimacy to trust in love, with frequent, explicit descriptions of the sensual lessons learned on the way.

Enjoy the following excerpt for For His Eyes Only:

They waited for the elevator. She wrapped her arms around Alex’s neck and kissed him, a chaste kiss appropriate for the public eye should anyone catch them. But when she pulled back and stared at him, the way her eyes darkened spoke volumes about the unchaste activities she expected to take place once they made it to his room.

Thankfully, the elevator doors closed before anyone else joined them. She slipped her arms inside his jacket, and the heat of her touch penetrated his shirt fabric while he pressed her to the wall, thrust his tongue into her mouth and ground his hips against hers.

“Well,” she teased when he rested the solid crotch of his pants against her thigh. “I can tell you’re ready.”

He closed his eyes, his hunger for her made almost unbearable by the taste of sweet wine she left on his lips. “Oh, don’t worry. You’ll be ready too.”

He put his hand beneath her skirt and trailed his finger along the satin edge of a soaking wet g-string, smothering her approving moan with another kiss. The ache in his groin intensified.

“I think you’re right,” she gasped when he let her go.

The doors opened. They greeted an older couple waiting to take the elevator and managed to maintain their composure until the door to his room locked behind them.

Then he couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’ve got to have you,” he insisted, expressing the thought that had plagued him all evening. He stepped up behind her and kissed the back of her neck, then lowered the zipper of her dress, his mouth following each tooth as it opened.

By the time he reached the zipper’s end, he was kneeling on the floor with the skinny strap of those panties right in front of him, urging him to tear the thing off. But he had just one night a year with her, and he wouldn’t end it within the first three minutes.

The dress and the lingerie hit the floor before he had a chance to contemplate his next move. He looked up, managing to catch the mischievous grin on his lady’s face before she turned and strode across the room, the silken curves of her ass draped in nothing but moonlight.

He stood, his fingers clenched with the need to touch her. “Where are you going?”

“You’ll see.”

She opened the French doors that led to a private terrace and disappeared around the corner. “Care to join me?” her voice called through the darkness.

He nearly ran to the balcony, stopping just long enough to pull protection from his pocket and take off his suit. When he found her, she was shoulder-deep in the hot tub, curling her index finger at him.

“Hurry,” she whispered. He could see her squirming beneath the bubbly surface.

“You sure know how to make a man crazy.”

He sank into the warm water and pulled her against him, relishing the reunion of their naked bodies. The money and power that accompanied his position at Insomnia never left him without a date for long, but this woman was no ordinary piece of arm candy. She charged him like an electric current, and their annual rendezvous was just about the only time he felt like a flesh-and-blood man instead of a corporate puppet.

Without exception, when he took other women out, they immediately brought up his job. Each of them shared a mammoth interest in his money and his ability to discover the next pin-up girl.

But not this one. The woman in front of him was wet, naked, and beautiful—and completely uninterested in his paycheck. He didn’t think he’d find a more perfect woman if he could design one himself.

Her fingers entwined in his hair, tugging him from his thoughts. She kissed him with a desperation that seemed to match his and pushed him down until he sat on the tub’s ledge, the water swirling around his ribs. Then she straddled his lap.

“I need your touch.”

Her words energized him and brought his full attention back to the reason they were there. He dropped his hand under the bubbles, skimming her torso until he found the softness between her thighs and unraveled her desire.

“Here?”

“Alex…” She surged against his chest and her fingernails dug into his shoulder.

“That wasn’t a scream,” he objected.

“Not yet it wasn’t.”

He massaged her, increasing the pace of his stroke while she squirmed and begged and then came hard, bucking against him and crying out loud. Still trembling, she shifted in his lap, took his shaft in her hand and rubbed it against her flesh.

“Do it,” she urged.

Her pleas turned to moans when he complied, slipping inside her and reacquainting himself with her warmth, her kisses, her cries. When he was lost in the taste and scent and feel of her, once again sharing with her the deepest kind of intimacy, he realized there was one problem with his perfect woman.

He didn’t know her, not the way he should. At least she could list some of his basic information, like his position at the company and what his mother had been calling him since birth. He couldn’t do the same for her. He knew that if he leaned down and sucked on her nipple right now, she’d come again. And if he gently bit the tender spot on her neck, right behind her earlobe, she’d arch backward and push him further into her body.

It was incredible, but it wasn’t enough. Not when he held her so close that he couldn’t tell his breath from hers, and when he kept imagining waking up in his bed at home with her beside him.

He anchored one hand on her hip and brushed the other through her mass of platinum curls, the ends wet and clinging to her breasts. “Tell me your name.”

She blinked, uncertainty clouding her face. But he looked into her eyes and moved slowly within her, and she relaxed. “It’s Jacey.”

“That’s a lovely name.”

“Thank you. Alex.” She giggled, then gasped and held tightly to him as he began to thrust harder. Her hips matched his intense rhythm, and he broke into a sweat caused by more than the temperature of the water.

At last, he knew her name.