He couldn’t draw his gaze from her rounded curves and incredible beauty. With her damp lips and tousled hair, she looked like sex personified. It took him only an instant to shed his clothes, grab and roll on a condom and meet her in the center of his bed.
He laid back against the pillows and let her take control, which she seemed only too happy to do. She swung one leg over him and while holding his hands and staring into this eyes, she lowered herself over him.
She was dewy and wet, ready for him. Her body accepted him, inch by hot inch. He lay still, letting her set the pace. And though he wanted to take it slow, savor how tight she was around him, he needed to feel more of her and he thrust upward until they were joined together in the deepest possible way.
The sensations quivered throughout his entire body and he let out a low groan. “You feel so damn good.”
Her eyes were wide and heavily glazed as she managed a nod. Her hips began to rotate, clenching him tighter in her heat. Her eyelids fluttered closed. As he thrust in and out again, she picked up a familiar rhythm. One that belonged to them alone.
He had a second to realize that sober sex with Amber was a helluva a lot different from the last night they’d spent together. Hotter. More intimate.
And then his body couldn’t wait and he began to push upward, inside her, searching, reaching higher. Thought fled. Only feeling mattered.
She matched him thrust for thrust, grinding into him. She moaned and the sexy sound brought him higher, closer. Somehow he held off until she came—her body milking him for all it was worth, her soft cries triggering his release.
But it was the sound of his name on her lips that caused everything inside him to burst open. Taking him up and over with the strongest, sweetest climax he’d ever experienced.
They lay in silence, the only sound his heart pounding in his ears. He rose and headed for the bathroom. When he returned, he climbed back into bed. Amber curled around him as if she’d been sleeping beside him for a lifetime.
“Mike?” she asked sleepily.
“Yeah?”
“Next time you’re on top,” she said, tossing one leg over his, and immediately falling asleep.
His wife locked him in for the night. In his bed, in his apartment, in his home.
What the hell was he going to do with her?
CHAPTER SIX
MIKE AWOKE to the smell of coffee. He knew immediately where he was and what he’d done. A quick glance told him the bag with the money remained in the corner of the room, but was his wife here, too?
If so, they needed to have a talk about their divorce, something he had no choice but to pursue. He couldn’t remain with a woman he didn’t trust enough to be certain she’d be around in the morning.
He climbed out of bed and pulled on a pair of jeans before walking to the kitchen. The sound of pots and pans clattering told him Amber hadn’t bailed on him and sure enough, she padded barefoot around his kitchen, humming as she cracked eggs into a bowl. An overwhelming sense of relief mixed with pleasure as he watched her work in his kitchen, once again wearing nothing but his shirt.
Considering the conclusion he’d come to moments before, he pushed away the fact that he liked having her here, chalking it up to good sex the night before.
Not just good sex. Great sex. His body jolted alive at the memory.
He cleared his throat.
She turned to him with a big smile on her face. “Good morning!”
“You’re still here.”
The light dimmed in her eyes, but she kept the smile. “I told you I would be. So how do you like your eggs?”
Now that he was sure she was here, he was suddenly in no rush to have the divorce conversation. But the longer he stalled the more difficult it would be. “Surprise me.”
“Why don’t you go shower,” she said, waving a fork in the air as she spoke. “Breakfast will be ready when you’re through.”
He paused, torn about when to discuss their future. She looked so pleased with herself that he couldn’t hurt her again by bringing it up just yet.
“Don’t worry. All the silverware will be here when you return,” she said, turning away from him. “Now go.”
He winced. Still, all through his shower, he reminded himself she was feeling bad because of something she’d done, not him. It didn’t help his guilt.