Take This Man

Chapter Fifteen



He stopped. Elyse stood on the stoop in her stocking feet, terror on her face. His arm, suddenly heavy, fell limply to his side.

She approached him, her hands up in a defensive manner. “Let him go, okay? Just let him go.” Him? Who? Adam looked down and realized his other hand was still grasping Don"s shirt. He loosened his grip, and his stepfather stumbled back.

“That"s good,” Elyse told him. She was next to him now, but why was she using that tone of voice?

The kind of voice someone would use to calm a frightened, angry stray.

She took him by the hand. “Let"s go inside now.

All right?”

Adam frowned at her shoeless feet. “Where are your shoes?”

“Inside. I was asleep on the sofa.”

“I didn"t see you.”

“That"s all right. Come on.” Her gaze slashed toward Don. “You need to go.” The old man stared at them for a moment, then turned and stumbled away.

Elyse got Adam into the house and lowered him into the armchair. She clicked on a nearby lamp, and sat on the sofa across from him. Again he noticed his mother"s afghan crumpled on the cushions.

“You were sleeping when I got here, and I didn"t want to wake you,” she explained. “Matthew said it was all right for me to stay.”

“Uh-huh.” He didn"t know what to say. He should be glad to see her. He meant to find her, and 156

she was already here. But he couldn"t concentrate.

He heard Elyse speaking, but only a few words made sense. “You talked to my brother?”

“I came to get my stuff. We talked. I"m glad we did.” Adam hated to imagine what Wash Boy had told her. He should be pissed. But he couldn"t seem to connect with his anger. With anything. He kept seeing Don"s face, just as his fist was about to pound into it. Don was scared, yeah, but there was something else there as well.

Don wanted Adam to punch him. He wanted to be punished. Adam started to shake. He"d almost beat up a scrawny, sick old man. He gritted his teeth, tried to force his muscles to be still, but the trembling wouldn"t stop.

Elyse came to him, wrapped the afghan around his shoulders. “It"s all right.” Her hands moved up and down his arms, comforting him. “You"re okay.” Shit. He didn"t want her pity. But he couldn"t tell her that—he didn"t trust himself to speak without his teeth chattering.

“I"m going to make us some coffee,” Elyse told him. Jesus, she was talking to him like he was some frightened little kid. “I"ll be right back, okay?” He managed a nod. Shit.

When she came back a few minutes later, he"d gotten himself under control. The shaking had stopped, but his head was throbbing again.

“Coffee should be ready soon.” Her voice was soft. “You don"t have to wait on me,” he growled. “I don"t need a frickin" babysitter.” Elyse froze, pressing her lips tight. “You can never let yourself need anyone, can you? Maybe I like being needed.”

Adam glanced at the blank television screen, then back at Elyse. “Sorry,” he said.

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She brushed his words away with a wave.

“Never mind.”

“No, I mean I"m sorry. That"s why I wanted to see you tonight. I was going over to the hotel to find you. I had to tell you I was sorry.” She was silent for a beat. “What are you sorry for, Adam?”

“Sorry for that night. Sorry I pushed you into it.

I wish I could go back and make it never have happened.” His shoulder"s fell in utter defeat. “I f*cked up the best thing that ever happened to me.

Being with you.”

He stared down at his hands which had clenched into fists. When Elyse remained quiet, he risked a glance at her, his chest aching.

“I"ve been doing a lot of thinking,” she told him.

She licked her lips, suddenly seeming apprehensive.

“I wanted to tell you I"m sorry.” Adam"s eyebrows flew up his forehead, and he cocked his head, not sure he heard her right. “You—”

“All this time I"ve been blaming you for everything that went wrong between us. I wanted to put it all on you, so I wouldn"t have to look at myself.

But I had the choice to say no that night. I could have walked out when you proposed all three of us go to bed. But I didn"t.”

Adam"s throat felt thick. “Why didn"t you?” he asked. The same question he had the day before. But this time he was not accusing her or laying blame.

He simply needed to know.

When she spoke, her voice was flat. “I needed to make a point.”



****

Elyse felt herself leave her body. She was hovering above it somehow, looking down at herself with disgust. What a stupid bitch. How many times did she have to get kicked before she learned her lesson? You couldn"t trust anyone in this life. Hadn"t 158

everyone let her down—her mother, her grandmother, her best friend. And now, Adam.

Her throat ached, her eyes burned. She wanted to cry, to ask him, if you really love me, how could you bear to have another man touch me?

Simple, stupid. He doesn"t love you. Never did.

Suddenly the tears dried up. Anger rose in her, so bitter she could taste it. It was followed by a glacial calm.

Elyse pushed out from between the men and stood up. She wobbled toward the door, her body acting of its own accord, her brain on auto-pilot.

Halfway across the room, she stopped and pivoted, turning toward them.


He wanted to see her with another man? All right. Let him watch. She was going to make sure the impression was burned into his brain. He"d never be able to wash it from his memory.

She stood in the middle of the motel room and tore off her glittery halter top. She"d gone braless, so her breasts jounced as she tossed the top aside, not caring where it landed. The men gazed at her—

Adam"s eyes burned with lust, while Jason seemed somehow disconnected.

She shimmied out of her short skirt and flung it at Adam, hitting him in the face. That was no accident. He drew back, startled, letting the garment fall to the floor. Then, unceremoniously, she pulled down her panties and left them abandoned on the middle of the carpet.

Suddenly a voice clanged in her head. Grandma Wanda"s. “Your mother doesn"t want you. She"s too busy chasing her men. Acting like a cheap slut. And you"ll end up just like her, mark my words.” Yeah, that"s right, Wanda. I"m just like my mother. And you"re not the only one who thinks so.

Isn"t it nice to be right?

Stalking to the far side of the bed, she gestured 159

for Jason to move to the middle of the mattress. “Over here.”

He obeyed, reclining, his head on a flattened pillow. Elyse knee-walked across the orange bedspread to him. Her purse, containing condoms, lay on the nightstand. As she reached across Jason for it, her breasts brushed his face, a nipple grazing his lips.

Adam hissed an indrawn breath. He reached for her breast, but she knocked his hand away.

“You wanted to watch, remember?” Her voice was so frigid it should have given him frostbite. “So watch.”

Holding the condom packet in her teeth, she straddled Jason"s legs, unbuttoning his pants and unzipping his fly. Jason tried to assist her. “No,” she told him. This was her show.

Elyse yanked down his pants and briefs to mid thigh. She tore open the condom wrapper, and rolled the rubber down the length of Jason"s cock. At least he was hard. He"d been acting so politely distant all evening she wondered if he was into her at all. But why would a man agree to a threesome if he wasn"t attracted to the participants?

A tremendous wave of doubt crashed over Elyse.

What was she doing?

She mustn"t stop to think. If her anger crumbled, only despair would be left in its wake. So, no. No thinking. She would see this thing through to the bitter end.

She lifted up and impaled herself on Jason in one deep thrust.

Watch me, Adam. Watch me, she wanted to say, her eyes on him as she rode Jason. This is what you wanted, isn"t it?

She didn"t think she"d come, but as she ground against Jason on the downstroke an orgasm burst upon her unexpectedly, folding her over as the 160

spasms rolled through her.

She fell onto the mattress by Jason"s side, and was surprised to discover than he had not climaxed.

“Do you want me to—” She felt a bit embarrassed. Maybe she really didn"t turn him on.

“It"s all right,” he murmured, his face flushed. “I can take care of it.” Taking his cock in hand, he began to stroke it up and down.

By this time, Adam was standing and shucking off his clothes. Feeling closer to Jason now than she did to Adam, Elyse moved closer to him in a protective gesture. After a few hard strokes he came, shuddering, his face pressed to Elyse"s shoulder.



****

“I thought what we had was real,” she told Adam. “That you loved me the same way I loved you.

When you wanted me to get with Jason, I realized how wrong I was.”

Adam remembered that Elyse"s mother had abandoned her, dumping her into a reluctant grandmother"s care. Had she felt abandoned by him as well?

When she spoke again, her voice was clipped. “I hated myself for being so stupid. So…the best way to punish myself was to f*ck Jason"s brains out. And make you watch.”

Adam nodded and swallowed hard. It was like swallowing razor blades. “Weren"t you trying to punish me, too?”

Elyse shrugged. “It would have only hurt you if you"d cared.”

“I cared. And it hurt all right. Hurt like a bitch.

If that"s any consolation.” The acid in his stomach started working its way up his throat as he remembered.



****

Elyse lay in the middle of the bed, facing Jason, who was sprawled to her left. Adam crawled onto the 161

bed from the right. She let him touch her, toy with her, while she lay as limp and uninvolved as a rag doll. He tried his best to arouse her, using all his tricks to turn her on, get her hot for him. The ones that always worked before. But this time Elyse reacted as if he were invisible, intangible. As if he wasn"t there at all.

When he finally entered her from behind, Adam was panting, not merely with the need to come, but with frustration. And jealousy. Jason had made her come, but Adam couldn"t get a twitch, a moan, a single look from her.

He growled in her ear as searing cum spurted out of him. Afterwards, he lifted on an elbow and leaned down for a kiss, but she turned her face away.

She"d let him f*ck her, but kissing him was out of the question.

He should feel exhausted now, ready to sleep.

He"d come that hard. But a heavy weight lay on his chest, robbing him of rest.

Time passed, and they were quiet. Though sleep eluded him, Adam began to drowse. Elyse still had her back to him. She stirred, and he heard her murmur something to Jason. A moment later, Devereaux answered.

What were they saying? Adam couldn"t make out the words. A flash of jealousy zapped through him.

He clenched his jaw.

He"d f*cked up. He lay in a bed with two other people, and never felt lonelier in his life.



****

“Why"d you do it, then? Why"d you want to share me?” Elyse wiped the tears trickling from her eyes.

“I don"t get it.”

Adam hesitated. It was on the tip of his tongue to lie, to say I don"t know. But he did know. And she deserved the truth.

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“It was what you said before. About me not wanting to need anyone.”

Elyse waited, holding her breath. She didn"t want to hear this, but she needed to.

“You told me you loved me, and it scared the hell out of me. I couldn"t handle it. The responsibility of you caring about me.” His breath escaped in a gust, and his shoulders slumped. “I had to push you away.

I had to do something to make you hate me.” He"d succeeded only too well. She"d hated him all right. So much that she"d run away.

They stared at each other as the silence absorbed his admission. Elyse blinked at him. “I wonder if the coffee"s ready yet.” She stood up and left the room without another word.

Adam closed his eyes, his headache still going strong. Pain stabbed behind his left eye. Jesus, he hated this, all this honesty crap. Baring his soul.

He"d rather have a root canal without Novocain.



****

Elyse always thought if she knew why it all happened, there would be a click in her brain, and she"d finally understand. As she poured black coffee into two mugs, she waited for the click, but it didn"t come.

She returned to the living room with the coffee and a renewed sense of purpose. She"d been honest with Adam, as hard as it was. And he"d been honest with her, up to a point. Elyse knew there was more to come, and she was not about to let him off the hook. What was the saying? You"re only as sick as your secrets.

“Coffee.”

“Thanks.”

She sipped from her cup. “Matthew and I had a good talk while you were sacked out.” He took a quick swallow and grimaced as though he"d burned his tongue. “Yeah?” 163


“Yeah. He told me he always felt guilty for not saving your Mom, but you set him straight.” Adam snorted, his lips twisting into a grin, but his eyes looked far away. “That"s Wash for ya, thinks it"s his job to save the planet.” Those last few words were spoken mockingly, in the sonorous tones of a talk-show host.

“He seems to think you"ve always blamed yourself, too.”

Adam stiffened. “Well, that"s stupid.” Elyse nodded, watching him closely. “Yeah.”

“I mean, how the f*ck could I blame myself when I didn"t live there anymore? Was it my fault my mother married that a*shole Don? Was it my fault she had to work all the time, ?cause the scumbag didn"t carry his own weight? I didn"t put her out on the road that night, when that punk kid ran the stop sign.”

“No, of course not.”

He released a long breath. “I begged her to leave him, you know. She didn"t have to stay with Don—

all he did was use her.”

“But she wouldn"t leave. So you did.” Adam sat silently, looking miserable, but Elyse knew what he was thinking. He couldn"t understand why his mother stayed with Don. Why she chose her husband over her sons.

“You did what you had to do, Adam. Nobody can blame you for that.” And you can"t blame yourself.

In his own way, Adam had been abandoned by his mother, just as she had been. He"d been forced to leave home to get free of an impossible situation.

The tragedy was, he blamed himself for not staying, for “failing” his mother.

So he punished himself, living in his mother"s house, surrounded by all her possessions. It was Adam"s way of doing penance. He was just as trapped in the past as she was.

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Now Elyse understood why he"d pushed her away. His mother, the first woman he"d loved, had let him down, not even realizing it. How could he ever trust another woman?

“So what happens now?” Elyse said a moment later.

He shook his head. “I don"t know.” Then, sucking in a breath and straightening his shoulders, he said, “No. I do know. I want to be with you. I don"t want to lose you again.”

“Can you forgive me?”

“You didn"t do anything that needs forgiving,” he said, impatiently dismissing her words.

“Yes, I did. I can"t keep playing Little Miss Victim. If I don"t own my part, we"ll never get past this. Can you forgive me?”

“Yes. Yes I can.” He looked at her dead on, hiding nothing. Not holding her at arm"s length.

Wanting her to know he was telling the truth.

And maybe one day he"d be able to do something even harder—forgive both himself and his mother for their complicated relationship.

When Adam spoke again, his voice was barely audible. “Do you forgive me?” Elyse had been nurturing her anger for two years. She saw now how hard and unforgiving she"d become, how much like her Grandma Wanda. It was a humbling realization.

“I forgive you.” By holding on to resentment, she"d been stuck in the past. The only way to move on was to let it all go. Someday she might even find it possible forgive Sunny and Grandma Wanda.

Elyse was beginning to realize how much it had cost her, carrying all that anger. It was a heavy burden.

Was it possible to just let it go?

It wasn"t a question she could answer today.

One thing at a time, step by step.

Now came the next step. “I love you, Adam.” She 165

was through hiding from it, pretending it wasn"t real. But what had he said before? That he didn"t want the responsibility of somebody loving him. He was not afraid of loving, but of being loved. He was afraid he couldn"t live up to it, so would rather not accept it at all.

“I never stopped loving you,” she told him. “But if you can"t accept that, if it"s just going to be a burden to you, then I need to go back to Albany.” Elyse was not threatening him. She made sure there was no anger or blame in her voice, just sad acceptance.

Adam stared at her in disbelief. Then his lips firmed, and his jaw tightened with determination.

“No. You"re not going back.”

He moved as swiftly as a cat to the cushion beside her. Elyse"s breath caught, and heat flared through her, prickling her nipples and lips. The juncture of her thighs grew warm and moist as her mouth went dry.

He dragged her into his arms. Their lips met.

She closed her eyes as she kissed him, breathing him in, tasting him. Their tongues tangled. He tasted of rich coffee.

When they drew apart, he spoke. “A burden?

Woman, I"ve done nothing but spend the past few days trying to think of a way to convince you to stay with me. We"ll do it however you want, Elyse.”

“Will we?” She smiled, but a feeling of disappointment threaded through her. He wanted her, but it wasn"t enough.

If Adam offered himself, Elyse would take him.

She would take this man, with all his quirks and fears, because God knows she had plenty of her own.

She didn"t expect him to be perfect. But this time, she was not going to accept less than a total commitment from him.

This time, he had to say the words.

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She frowned as he winced and rubbed his left eyebrow. “What is it?”

“Just a headache. The result of too much over-indulgence.”

“Poor thing.” Elyse massaged his eyebrow with her thumb. “You need some aspirin?”

“I need this more. I need you.” He kissed her again and wrapped his arms around her as though he never wanted to let her go. “Elyse, I love you.” 167

About the Author

Nona Raines became hooked on romances when she first picked up "The Flame and the Flower" by Kathleen Woodiwiss (and she's not telling how long ago that was). Romances may have changed since then, but her love for a good love story has not. She's been writing off and on for years, but it was only when she joined the Central New York Romance Writers Association that she finally gained the support and confidence she needed to complete a manuscript.

Nona lives in upstate New York with her many pets and is currently working on her next novel. A former librarian, she enjoys reading books of all genres and discussing them with others. She is thrilled to finally be able to call herself an author.

Visit Nona at

www.nonaraines.com

To chat with Nona Raines and other Wild Rose Press authors of erotic romance, join us at www.groups.yahoo.com/group/thewilderroses.

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Also Available

One Good Man

by

Just one touch…that"s all Andie Benedetto wants when she glimpses her father"s sexy neighbor.

Images of deep, long kisses and down and dirty sex heat up her fantasies. When he catches her watching him, she"s embarrassed but undeniably turned on.

Just one weekend…that"s all Matthew Vostek can offer Andie. He recognizes her shyness, but also senses her desire, the same desire he feels. Maybe they can fulfill each other"s hottest fantasies.

Just an adventure…that"s what Andie tells herself. Tired of playing the good girl, she"s ready to accept Matthew"s challenge and enjoy the most exciting sexual escapade of her life. But when the weekend is over, will Andie finally take what she wants instead of settling for second best?

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Chapter One



Andie never intended to watch the man next door.

It all happened because she couldn"t sleep. Tired of kicking around her tangled sheets, she"d risen out of bed to go to the kitchen for something to drink.

She didn"t need to turn on the light. The suburban split-level was the home she grew up in, though now she was here dog sitting while her father was away. Feeling her way in the dark, she slipped down the hallway. Past the closed door of the bedroom that used to be her parents", but now belonged to her father. Past the bathroom, down the steps, and past the living room where Daisy snored on the sofa.


Clicking on the kitchen light, she took a glass from the cupboard and some orange juice from the fridge. When she glanced out the window above the sink, she saw him. Matthew Vostek. Sitting on his back steps with his two dogs. A brown-spotted pit bull sat companionably by his feet while a small white one snuffled in the grass.

She thought of that old song, “Moonlight Becomes You.” It certainly became Matthew, highlighting his handsome profile. But she needed a closer view.

Her thirst forgotten, Andie set the juice carton aside and edged up to the sliding glass door looking out on the garden that used to be her mother"s pride, but was now weedy and wild. Beyond the deck it gave a view of the neighbor"s yard and of the neighbor himself.

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Keeping herself hidden against the wall, Andie tilted her head enough to glimpse him through the glass. She caught her breath. His plain dark T-shirt covered a torso which, while not muscle-bound, was well developed and broad, tapering to a narrow waist. His arms were well defined. Andie crept closer to the glass. She swallowed hard as her gaze followed him lifting a bottle to his lips and tilting his head back to drink.

It was a warm May evening, pleasant enough to be sitting out. Was he just hanging out with his canine buddies at the end of a long day? Or did he, like Andie, have troubles on his mind that kept him from sleep?

Whatever he was doing, Andie wished she was beside him, sitting on the steps and hanging, instead of inside this lonely house with its sad memories.

She"d prefer his company to being alone and worrying about how her father was coping with her mother"s death. Wondering what her boyfriend Douglas meant by telling her he “needed some space.” Were they still a couple? Had they broken up, or what?

Her life was falling apart.

Andie already knew quite a bit about Matthew without having said more than a few words to him.

They"d exchanged friendly greetings whenever Andie stopped by to visit her dad and he happened to be around. Of course she noticed how good-looking—no, scratch that, how hot—he was, but she"d made no effort to prolong their conversations. First of all, she"d been living with Douglas—until he suddenly out of the blue decided to move out because of the needing space thing. Secondly, well, Andie didn"t trust the man. Matthew was too good-looking. Too hot. The kind of man who had to be a player.

Still, that didn"t keep her from soaking up the interesting tidbits of information the neighborhood 171

gossips offered.

She knew he and his brother ran a lawn and garden business, which accounted for his broad shoulders and well-defined arms as well as his suntan.

She knew he was single. She knew he"d planned to move in with a girlfriend, a fiancée. But something had gone wrong. Matthew arrived and the fiancée never showed. Opinions varied. No one definitely knew the cause of the break-up.

Andie"s guess was he was one more guy who couldn"t keep his pants zipped.

Her mind told her all this, but did her body care? Not a chance.

Inching forward, Andie imagined taking the bottle from him and bringing it to her mouth, placing her lips exactly where his had been.

She moistened her dry lips. Whatever was in that bottle—beer, pop, or iced tea, she"d press her lips to his and share the drink with him. She"d give him open-mouthed tongue kisses, lick down his chin, his throat, his chest. Then she"d pull his T-shirt up until it bunched under his arms, swirl her tongue around his nipples, suck them, and bite them.

Heat pooled in her abdomen and swirled higher, filling her breasts and tightening her nipples as she thought about all the things she dreamed of doing to him. And all the things she wanted him to do to her.

She clenched her thighs together as desire throbbed lower, thrumming like a heartbeat. If she"d been wearing panties, they"d have been wet. Instead, a trickle of moisture ran down her thighs. Andie ached to take off her nightgown and flatten her naked body against the cool glass.

She had to be crazy. A man like Matthew was dangerous. He"d broken his girlfriend"s heart and was most likely biding his time before breaking someone else"s.

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A woman would never be safe with someone like him. But Andie"s body wasn"t interested in safe. It wanted this man, and to hell with the consequences.

She froze as something brushed her bare leg.

Daisy, her father"s aged Golden Retriever, stood beside her. Daisy saw the dogs in the next yard and barked, wanting to join them, even though her arthritic old bones made her a poor playmate. At the sound, Matthew turned, and Andie was caught like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming car, too stunned to move.

Frozen there, she was sure she looked like some perverted peeping Thomasina or worse—some desperate sex-deprived loser. Which wasn"t far from the truth.

An instant later she regained use of her limbs and quickly stepped away, out of Matthew"s sight.

Her heart thumped as she shook her head in disbelief. God, what was she doing?

Andie dragged herself back to the safety of her bedroom—with one stop at the bathroom sink to splash water on her flushed face. The water cooled her hot cheeks but did nothing for the heat between her thighs. Even being caught red-handed, so to speak, during her erotic fantasies was not enough to extinguish them.

Andie slid into bed and kicked off the blankets and sheet. Her skin felt hot and tender, the throbbing between her legs unbearable. Her thoughts were full of Matthew, and she easily slipped back into the fantasy she"d enjoyed in the kitchen.

She imagined sliding his T-shirt up his chest, bunching it under his arms. The cotton was soft from many washings and smelled of detergent as Andie nuzzled her nose to it. Her fingertips skimmed over the soft skin of his chest. His nipples were hard little 173

points made harder by the swirling motion of her fingers around them. She lowered her head to taste them while her hands combed through the rough hair. He tasted clean and slightly salty from sweat.

In her fantasy, Matthew"s hands were busy, too.

They inched up under her short nightgown, performing a teasing dance on her hips and ass.

They tickled and tormented, but as good as it felt, his hands were not where she wanted them.

He grasped her butt, a cheek in each hand, and Andie didn"t mind. Usually she didn"t like that particular part of her anatomy played with, it was where her excess weight settled. But she didn"t care now, she was into the fantasy, she was into him, and he could touch her any way and anywhere he wanted.

He lifted her. She had to stop kissing his chest, but that was okay, because now his mouth was right there, and she didn"t merely kiss it—she devoured it.

It was the sweetest, most decadent mouth she"d ever tasted, and she wanted as much as she could get before someone came along and said, “You"ve had enough, Andie, no more for you.” She sucked his lower lip into her mouth, nipped it, then laved the sting away with her tongue. Her tongue undulated against his, dueled with his, licked it again and again to savor every bit of his luscious flavor.

In her imagination, her breasts, so full and so tender, were crushed against his chest. She wanted him to use his lips on her, to be as attentive to her nipples as she had been to his. But at the same time it was delicious torture to rub them against him. The silkiness of the nightgown and the rough hair on his chest created a delicious friction that shot sparks straight down her spine to the moist folds between her legs.

It didn"t matter now if the man was a player. At this moment Andie didn"t care. She wanted to be 174


used. This wasn"t about love. It was about getting off. Andie moaned, lying in bed imagining the scene.

The fingers of one hand drifted down between her legs while her other palmed a breast. She skimmed her wet lips then zeroed in on the part of her aching to be touched. Her fingers whisked over her swollen *, and she pretended it was Matthew touching her.

In her fantasy she spread her thighs wide around his hips as he rocked against her, pressing the bulge in his jeans against her. The ache grew and grew as he rocked and rubbed, holding her lower body against his. Her lips grew plumper, her eyelids drooped, her breath rasped in her chest. Close, she was so close.

Andie touched herself one more time and she came, her pelvis arching off the bed as the waves of pleasure crashed over her. Prickles of delight raced along her nerves, to her fingers, her toes, even her tender, swollen lips. All sound was drowned out by the rush of blood in her ears and the pounding of her heart. The contractions tightened and released until it was almost painful.

When the climax subsided she released a long breath, exhausted and completely satisfied. Well, as satisfied as possible all by herself. She rolled to her side and smiled, then frowned as she remembered her fantasy lover had been left unfulfilled.

Oh, well. There was always tomorrow night.