His calm gaze focused on her, intense and probing. He slowly dropped it to her mouth. “I think I’m about to acquire some guilt of my own,” he murmured and, bending his dark head, he brushed his lips over hers. More whisper than kiss, achingly soft. ...
Again and again. Her own words, what she'd said to Cade earlier today—about trust and truth—sticking in her brain like a pair of those long, old-fashioned hatpins. After saying them, she'd barely opened her mouth again, because she couldn't come up with anything better to say, or shake the feelin...
Hmm... Lipstick, red enough, bold enough, slick enough, to make the cover of Hustler magazine. Ginger twisted, assessed, then smacked her backside. The skirt fit like sausage casing. Perfect. She tosse...
And not a nice one. Simone Doucet shifted her attention from the Wall Street Journal and cocked an ear toward the door in time to catch another one—even less nice. It certainly wasn't Nolan. She glanced at her watch; he was late. Unusual for him. She stood and went to the open hatch in the center...
Her stomach told her she hadn't eaten since late morning, and that a sandwich—at least—was required. She was halfway through slathering on the mayo when she heard a rap on her door. She walked toward it. "Wade?" "It's David, Joy. I know it's late, but I need to talk to you about your mother and m...
His body was long, lean, and solid, and with no give in the rock face at her back, her breasts compressed against the wall of his chest, her thighs rubbed against his. The effect was electric. When her feet were finally on the ground, instead of releasing her, his hands tightened their grip on he...