Page 63 of Almost Dead (The Cahills 2)

Don’t let him…Oh God, he’s doing it, isn’t he?

Her back arched of its own accord as he began working the buttons of her pajamas, opening each with his tongue, a trick that amazed and seduced her. Warm breath, wet tongue, the click of the button against his teeth as each pearly little disc was slowly released.

It would have been easier and faster to just jerk the damned piece of cotton over her head, or for either of them to unbutton the fabric with their eager fingers, but this slow method, where his hot breath seeped through the cotton, the fabric parting, his lips and tongue skimming her breastbone, moving ever lower, was magical and sexy and turned her on to incredible heights. His hands were free, and he used them to hold her tight, one across the small of her back, the other, as he eased himself down, cupping her buttocks and holding her fast as the pajama top parted from the pants. With his teeth, he pulled her bottoms down, exposing her, leaving her partially dressed as his mouth scraped lower, past her abdomen and belly button, his breathing hotter now, faster.

Desire pounded through her veins. Her throat was dry, her hands entwined in his hair as he began to kiss her between her legs, his lips and tongue touching, flicking, toying with her as sweat sheened her body and the wanting deep inside began to throb.

Moaning, she began to move with him. A quick tug on her pajama bottoms took them off, and he gained closer access, his tongue working magic, his hands on her buttocks.

“Oh God,” she whispered and was undone. “Jack…” Hot need thrummed through her. She wanted more. So much more. Just when she thought she would go mad with the yearning, he came to her, sliding up her body more quickly now, hands at her breasts, lips skimming her nipples.

All denial fled. She didn’t care about the ramifications, didn’t think about tomorrow, just wanted him. All of him. Now.

He kissed her again, his mouth clamping over hers as his legs pushed hers apart. She arched upward, her fingers digging into the smooth muscles of his back. “Jack,” she whispered when he lifted his head to gaze at her.

“I hate to tell you this, Cissy,” he said, “but I love you. I love you.”

As the words left his lips, he thrust into her. Any argument that might have been forming in her mind quickly fell away. Her body met his eagerly. Hungrily. She wanted so much more from him, so much…. Her thoughts fled, her breath came in short gasps, her blood thundered through her ears as he made love to her. Faster and faster. Harder and harder. Pressure building. She was sweating, gasping. She saw the veins bulging in his forehead. Her entire body centered on the joining of his body to hers.

“Cissy…”

A jolt rocked through her. A soft scream erupted from her throat. Spasm after spasm. She clung to him, felt him tense, and then in one instant he let go, pouring himself into her, whispering her name. “Cissy…oh…damn…Cissy.”

He collapsed atop her, his body as covered in perspiration as hers, his own heart echoing the frantic beat of hers.

She was gasping, but managed a smile.

“And you thought this was a bad idea,” he murmured.

“I still do.”

He lifted his head and cocked a skeptical eyebrow. She laughed.

“Okay…I think it was a bad idea, but I’m glad it happened.”

“Are you?”

Sighing, she wound her arms around his neck. “You are still my husband, for a few more weeks.” His grin widened, and she almost gave in to trusting him again. Almost.

“That’s not set in stone either,” he reminded her, kissing her forehead.

“Let’s not ruin this morning talking about the divorce. I’m going to shower, and you go downstairs and make coffee, and about the time we’re on our second cup, Beej will wake up and we’ll have a perfectly pleasant morning.”

“It could be that way every morning,” he said softly, then, as if realizing he was overplaying his hand, said, “Okay…coffee it is. And I’ll take care of the dog.”

“Coco!” she cried.

“Relax, B.J. and I took her out of the crate last night, walked her, and played with her. Surprise, surprise, she didn’t bite me.”

“How could I have forgotten?” She felt horrible.

“You had a lot on your mind. I think she’ll forgive you.”

“Where is she?”

“Downstairs in her bed, I think.”

“I’m a terrible dog owner,” she said guiltily.

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