Sean backed away, stumbled over his forgotten toolbox and landed hard on his butt on the floor’s plywood subsurface.
Maureen McBride loomed above him, green eyes flashing, red hair pulling free of its tightly bound knot. “I’ll report this,” she said, the words barely escaping through clenched jaws. “Sexual harassment is a crime in this state.”
Sean jumped to his feet and closed the distance between them. “I didn’t do anything except keep you from falling.” He noted with pleasure that she had to look up to meet his eyes. “It’s not my fault you’re so starved for physical attention that you intentionally stumble into men’s arms.”
Her face flushed scarlet, and she opened luscious red lips to scorch him with a rebuttal.
The floor heaved again. They fell into each other’s arms, and Sean’s tongue dove into her open mouth.
He wanted to struggle, wanted to get the hell away from this aggravating female, but the molten silk of her mouth tasted of honey… and her tongue! It twisted coyly away from his and then pushed daringly past his teeth into his mouth. Oh, the soft, sensual pleasure of that dance of tongues.
Soft. Sensual. His hands finally reported their location to his brain, and he groaned into her mouth. His senses rapidly overloading, he moved his hands down her back and filled them with the ripe, firm, fullness of her buttocks. His erection leapt and demanded a closer inspection of the cleft pressed so tantalizingly near.
And then it ended, as quickly as it had begun.
She pulled away from his clutching fingers and backed up until she hit the far wall. Cold air shocked his senses, and he longed for her velvet warmth; all of it. No impeding cloth. Just skin caressing skin, and more. Oh, so much more!
Friday, August 11, 2006
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