Page 162 of Outfox

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“Then why didn’t he kill himself and be done with it? Leave you to your own devices?” She raised her eyebrows in question.

He gave her a hard look, but he didn’t say anything.

“He loved you. Believe it.” She settled close to him again. “How do you feel toward your mother?”

“I vacillate between deep resentment over her letting me go and sorrow for the fate she must’ve suffered. Fair to say that I’m conflicted?”

“Fair to say.”

They lay quietly for several minutes, then he placed his forearm across his eyes and moaned.

“What?”

“I finally got you naked in bed. I should be talking dirty to you, not blathering all this maudlin crap.”

“You can still talk dirty.” She slid her hand beneath the sheet. It took only one stroke to bring him erect. She laughed. “Well, that didn’t take long.”

“I told you a sad story. Are you doing this out of pity?”

“I don’t think anyone would pity a man so well endowed.”

He flashed a grin that would have done the devil proud.

“But even if it is out of pity, do you want me to stop?” she teased.

“Hell, no. Have at it.”

She rolled onto him and began dropping kisses on his chest.

“Talia?”

“Don’t bother me, I’m busy.”

“I just want to ask—”

“Later.”

She

opened her thighs and guided him in. He hissed swear words as she slowly sank down onto him and began rocking. He grunted with pleasure. “And I thought the first time was good.” He angled himself up in order to reach her breasts. His mouth was hot and avid, and left her nipples wet with loving.

When he lay back, he gripped her hips between his hands and coaxed her, coached her, cajoled her in the raunchiest language. Several minutes later, on short puffs of breath, he said, “Have at it. That’s what I said. But, sweetheart…God a’mighty.”

He slid his hand between them. His revolving thumb worked its magic, and half a minute later, she lay sated atop his heaving chest.

When she had regained her breath, she whispered, “You were saying?”

“Hmm?”

“Before I had my way with you, you were about to ask me something.”

“Oh. Never mind.”

“No, ask.”

He combed his fingers through her hair and rearranged it on her shoulders.

“I remember you doing that last night when you came up to the guest room.”


Tags: Sandra Brown Suspense