The Secret Sister. Brenda Novak

      Sliding her hands up his arms, she found the soft, curly hair at his nape and closed her eyes as she sank into the kiss.

      He seemed surprised when she parted her lips. She realized then that he hadn’t taken her capitulation for granted. It had been a risk for him—one he wasn’t convinced would work out—and, for the first time, she felt a measure of hesitation. Would he withdraw? Maybe lift his head to ask whether she was really okay with what they were doing?

      She hoped not. That would only yank her back into the real world and ruin everything.

      To make sure he didn’t, she became more aggressive. Instead of just permitting him to kiss her, she clenched her hand in his hair and kissed him back.

      “God, I haven’t felt anything like this in so long,” she muttered against his warm, pliant lips.

      She wasn’t aware that she’d spoken aloud until he caught her face in his large hands and made her look at him. “How long?”

      “Years,” she admitted.

      “That’s even longer than me.”

      She didn’t ask how long it had been for him. She didn’t want any more conversation, or she’d have to make sense out of what he said and how she replied, what she was doing. She couldn’t justify this, which was why she didn’t want her conscience to intercede before she could get what she craved. So she moved his hands to her breasts.

      He seemed startled, as if he couldn’t believe his good fortune. Then he reached around and unsnapped her bra, staring into her eyes the whole time, testing her to see if she’d stop him. When she didn’t, when she let him slip his hands up under her shirt and touch her, she heard him suck in his next breath.

      “This is going too well. You won’t even go out with me,” he said as he flicked his thumbs over the tips of her breasts. Obviously, he wanted her to convince him, not change her mind. But she could offer no explanation for her behavior. Where was this sudden recklessness coming from? She’d been so sad for so long, it was almost as if all the needs that had gone unsatisfied during that time were welling up at once.

      “Are you going to let that stop you?” she asked, and stood on her toes to reach his lips. When he met her tongue, she groaned and gave everything she had to that kiss, even bit his lip and felt him nip at hers.

      “Holy shit,” he moaned, closing his eyes as her mouth moved down his neck and her hands traveled up under his shirt.

      Feeling strangely gratified that he was already trembling and breathless, she ran her fingers over his arousal. “Is this for me?”

      He turned her face back up to his. “Let’s go to my place,” he said.

      She didn’t protest when he scooped her into his arms and carried her there.

7

      MAISEY KNEW SHE was too thin, but Rafe didn’t seem to notice or care as he stripped off her clothes. He looked at her as if she was the most beautiful woman in the world and that was all that mattered because it was exactly what she needed.

      His bed smelled like he did. Maisey held a pillow next to her face and breathed deeply, thinking how much she liked that scent as he ran his hands over the curve of her hips.

      “Wow,” he said.

      He still had his pants on, but she’d pulled off his T-shirt as soon as he’d deposited her on the bed, which meant she could feel the smooth skin of his chest. Until this moment, she hadn’t realized how much she’d missed some of the things she’d taken for granted during her marriage, like the opportunity to curl up beside her husband, warm skin to warm skin.

      When Rafe’s mouth found her breast, she dragged in a gulp of air and closed her eyes. But as soon as he moved lower, she tried to stop him. She’d always been too self-conscious for that kind of lovemaking. Jack had told her many times that she was hard to reach, hard to connect with, even during sex, because she could never fully let go.

      She felt that resistance now, and stopped Rafe as he reached her navel.

      She assumed he’d abandon the attempt, move on to something that didn’t require so much trust on her part, as Jack had always done. But Rafe seemed more determined. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

      “That makes me feel too...vulnerable. I can’t do it.”

      “Sure you can,” he said, but he didn’t press her. He watched her intently, reading the expressions on her face while he used his fingers instead.

      “That’s good,” she whispered. “Really good.”

      She felt him kiss her thighs, but she was so focused on his fingers that she didn’t mind. Then, when she was so lost in the moment she would’ve let him do almost anything, he pressed her legs apart.

      “Relax,” he murmured, and when she complied, he settled his mouth on her. The movement of his tongue made her cry out. She couldn’t remember ever vocalizing what she was feeling quite like that. But she wasn’t herself right now, or she wouldn’t be having sex with an acquaintance from her past. She was pretending to be someone who might do something like this, someone who could cast off all inhibition without worrying about the consequences. So she dug her fingers into the thick muscles of Rafe’s shoulders and arched into him as the pleasure grew into an intense wave that ripped through her.

      He must’ve felt her body jerk, because when he lifted his head, he gave her a grin that said, “Take that if you think I’m a bad lover.” He’d done what he’d set out to do—vanquished the specter of the last time they’d been together. But he wasn’t finished yet.

      Caught in the blissful aftermath of that powerful release, Maisey could barely think as he removed his pants—but she forced herself to speak up when he got a condom from the nightstand.

      “You don’t have to worry about that,” she said. “My doctor put me on the pill six months ago to regulate my periods.” Her doctor had also said she needed to gain some weight, which she hadn’t done.

      “That’s a relief.” Tossing it aside, Rafe kissed her collarbone, her neck, her jawline. “To be honest, those condoms are so old I was almost afraid to rely on them.”

      She wasn’t ready to return to her senses, to Sad Maisey, so she was grateful when he made it clear that he wasn’t in any hurry to finish up. His hands delved into her hair, forcing her to look up at him as if he enjoyed staring down at the love-drunk sight of her. “Those big eyes of yours, so green...they take my breath away,” he said. “I’ve never seen a prettier pair.”

      She didn’t get the chance to respond to his compliment. He didn’t seem to need any thanks. His own heavy-lidded eyes revealed that he was feeling as swept away as she was. By the time he pushed inside her, she was so sensitive she gasped.

      “Oh, boy,” he said, and lines of concentration appeared on his forehead, giving her the impression that he wanted to stretch out every sensation for as long as he could.

      Rafe was built differently from Jack. Maisey noticed that immediately. She told herself it was tacky of her to compare them, but Jack was the one left wanting, and that somehow seemed deserving, after what he’d done.

      “Let’s take it slow,” Rafe said. Maybe it really had been a long time for him, because he didn’t want this to end too soon. But she was feeling the same mounting tension she’d enjoyed a few minutes earlier and craved the same powerful release, which made her urge him on. Gripping his buttocks, she let him know exactly how much she liked having him inside her and, with an exclamation on his part, the rhythm increased.

      Every now and then he’d have to pause in order to regain control. He was trying to hold off so she could get all she wanted. But she had the impression that he was reaching his limit. When her climax hit, his whole body tensed as he struggled to stop his own orgasm.