Something To Talk About. Laurie Paige

in check. His hands swept under her shirt and tank top. His touch was gentle but urgent on her back as he caressed up and down her spine.

      When he moved forward, then pressed her breasts upward and dropped kisses along the curving mounds, she caught her breath as ecstasy flooded her. She rained kisses on his head and raked her fingers through his hair, then slipped them under his collar and down his back.

      She wanted all barriers gone. With hands that trembled, she fumbled with his shirt buttons. He impatiently yanked it open, then pulled his T-shirt up and laid her hands flat on his chest and pressed them there.

      “Touch me,” he whispered, as lost to the moment as she was. “I’ve wanted it since I first saw you. Maybe forever.”

      “That makes no sense,” she said, trying to regain some control in the maelstrom.

      He lifted his head, his expression grim. “It never does.”

      But he didn’t release her hands. Instead he urged her to move them on him. She caressed him eagerly, forgotten pleasure rushing through her at the sensation of rough hair over the smoothness of skin beneath.

      He kissed her again, hotly, deeply, his mouth moving over hers, his tongue seeking, demanding, then becoming playful as he enticed her to follow his lead. She didn’t know how long or how far they would have gone, except for the ringing of the phone. Every nerve in her body jumped at the sound.

      “Easy,” he said, resting his forehead against hers.

      The phone jangled again.

      “It might be important.” She wanted him to say it wasn’t.

      “Yeah.” He sighed, gently helped her stand, then did the same. “You want to get it?”

      She crossed the room and answered.

      “This is Jeremy. Uh, will you tell my dad the library called and they have the stuff from the archives he wanted to see?”

      She ran a hand through her hair and tried to smooth it into place. “Okay. Do you need to speak with him?”

      “No. I’m going to catch a movie on television now.”

      They hung up and she delivered the news. The darkness returned to his eyes, displacing the fires of passion.

      “Thanks. I guess I’d better wait until tomorrow to go to town.”

      “That would be a good idea.”

      He studied her for a long minute. “Yeah.” Then he went out the door.

      Kate rubbed her fingers over her lips, which still felt hot and needy. Watch it, she warned herself. Just watch it. She went to the door. “What are you doing here, really?”

      He glanced over his shoulder. Raindrops splashed his hair and clothing. “Resting.” He hesitated. “I’ll be gone at the end of the month.” It was a promise.

      “Good,” she said, and was pretty sure she meant it.