Page 67 of The Scent of Intuition
She forgot to breathe, and a tremor shook her from the center through her body, from the inside out like a ripple of the water when a rock plopped in. She could feel it like a cramp in her body, curling her toes and prickling at the base of each hair on her head.
She let it wash over her and then she heaved for air. But what she really wanted was him.
Disheveled, eyes black, his mouth glistening with her slick desire, he came up from there.
His hand exerted gentle pressure.
It was so good. And he felt so right.
She hadn’t known her body could do that. And she knew then she was made for this—for him.
She reached for his gorgeous face and pulled his head up. He complied after removing his fingers and just laying his hand flat on her hot throbbing center. It was soothing her in a way she wouldn’t have known to ask for. He was everything she’d wanted and needed yet never knew to request.
And when he came to her face, he stilled and looked into her eyes.
She knew he wanted to say something but didn’t. There was a certain sadness, a vulnerability in his gaze. He looked younger than ever before, raw.
Then his eyes fell from her eyes to her mouth, and he lowered his face.
Just before his mouth touched hers again, he closed his eyes so tightly, as if he were about to dive into cold salt water and wanted to shield his vision.
And the kiss was unlike the one a moment ago.
He was slowly feeling her lips with his, pressing to intensify the touch and then releasing her to bring his tongue to her cupid’s bow. He was telling her something.
Without words, just with the tenderness of his touch.
And there was that special color of his eyes…
His hand left her middle and he trailed both hands along her sides, over her breasts, along her shoulders and arms. Then he inserted both hands behind her back and supported her while he kissed her so deeply that she thought she was dreaming and yet it was an awakening.
He pulled her up, supporting her back with both hands and he wrapped her in the towel.
Still kissing her.
Next, he crossed the towel over her breasts, and she instinctively held it over her shoulders like a shawl.
And then he broke the kiss.
She could tell he did so reluctantly.
He dropped his forehead onto hers and turned his head sideways as if he wanted to say something and didn’t dare again.
Then a bark. Chromius.
He was outside the door, scratching and whining. It was time for his walk and meal.
Bea’s eyes grew wide. “This never happened.”
“What?” Alfie whispered.
He inhaled as if he needed to tell her something and it appeared that courage failed him.
“Shh!” Bea put a finger on his lips. She was too embarrassed about her feelings but this… she was a wanton woman. She would embarrass Pippa in front of her almost sister-in-law if anyone were to find out.
Alfie deflated, slumped his shoulders, and then he dropped his head.
Bea’s heart pounded as she found herself back in the dimly lit room, a sense of disorientation washing over her. She was sitting on the edge of the table, wrapped in nothing but a damp towel, the remnants of their encounter still clinging to her skin. A cold shiver coursed through her, and she began to tremble.
