Page 13 of Kansas Keeper
I hadn’t intended to blurt out my feelings like that, but there’s no taking it back now. I’m not even sure if I would take it back, if I could. The way my heart is thumping in my chest feels good. It lets me know I’m alive––more alive than I’ve felt for the past year.
It’s hard to read her shocked expression. I’m not sure if she’s going to kiss me or slap me, and the wondering is torture.
After what seems like an interminable wait, she lunges in my direction and crushes her lips to mine. In a swift, smooth move she is on my lap. My fingers dig into her hips. We kiss hungrily––as if our mouths are starving for each other.
Suddenly, she stops and pulls back. I immediately miss her warm lips and smooth tongue.
Her chest is heaving and she is flushed red, making it obvious that her body is having as strong of a reaction to our surprise make-out session as mine is.
I tip up to reclaim her lips, but she pulls back to avoid my kiss.
“Embry?” Her one-word question lets me know exactly what she is worried about.
After shaking my head, I say, “Once she is settled in bed with her water, she never gets back up.”
The wide smile spreads slowly across Mara’s face before she says, “What a great kid.”
“She’s the best,” I murmur as I trail kisses along Mara’s collarbone.
Mara leans her head to the side, giving my lips better access to her soft, delicate skin. She lets out a soft sigh that sends blood rushing straight to my groin.
“It’s been so long.” She breathes out the words.
“For me, too.” I tell her, as my fingers fumble with the tiny buttons on her satiny shirt.
Apparently losing patience, Mara reaches down and claws her own shirt apart. One of the buttons rips off and clatters across the wood floor.
The move is bold and daring, and it makes me rock hard.
Without wasting another second, I grab both sides of her shirt and yank them apart. Buttons scatter.
“I’ll buy you a new one,” I promise as her shirt slides down her arms and my palms find their way inside her lacy bra to her plump breasts.
“So worth it,” she breathes into my mouth before her tongue delves deeper inside.
She’s rubbing herself over my straining cock. Frantic need streaks hot through my veins, even though our lower halves are still completely clothed.
When she pulls back and stands up, it’s all I can do to keep from yanking her back down onto my lap. I’m glad I restrained myself when she unfastens her pants and lowers the zipper before shimmying out of them.
My eyes are magnetized to her light pink, lacy bra and panties. Her body is curvy perfection, and I’m desperate to touch it.
She reaches a hand out for mine and says in a soft, sexy tone, “Shall we move this party into the bedroom?”
It’s like someone has dropped a bucket of ice water over my head. The mere idea of going into the bedroom I shared with my wife with another woman feels so wrong.
There’s no denying the devastated expression that arises on Mara’s face when the only name that matters falls from my lips. “Sandra.”
14
MARA
It was too good to be true. I should have known it would never work out. He’s still in love with his dead wife, and he always will be.
My dreams of sliding into their little, two-person family and completing it were silly. I could never fill in for the woman he loves, and it was ridiculous of me to even imagine it.
Shame overwhelms my senses as I stare down at the man who just said his late wife’s name during our hot and heavy make-out session. I try, unsuccessfully, to cover myself as I reach down for my scattered clothes.
Of course, he’s still fully dressed, which makes the entire situation that much more demeaning.
