closed his eyes at the taste of her lips. It was like coming home, her mouth achingly familiar and yet punishingly different. This woman kissed like Cassie, with slow sweeps of her tongue and tiny whimpers of yearning. He sank into the well-known sensation. Devouring it. Savoring her taste, her essence. Even breathing deep of the perfume he remembered she loved so much. It was his wife. He was kissing Cassie. At least that’s what he imagined he was doing. His tongue tangled with hers, unable to get enough. No longer willing to hold back. He gave her everything he had. He showed his devotion with the trail of his hands over her back. He displayed his attraction by the grinding of his erection against her abdomen. He was delirious with the need to have her again. Just one more night. One more kiss before the divorce was final. “T.J.,” she murmured into his mouth. “Cassie.”
