It's Never too Late - Page 78

“Absolutely.”

A smile started from deep inside of her and slowly infused its way through her being, driving Addy to act without thinking. Taking hold of his arm where it rested on the chair only a foot away from hers, she stood and leaned over him, planting her lips on his.

CHAPTER TWENTY

SWEET HEAVEN. Mark’s body hardened and his mind shut down as his arms closed around the woman, settling her on his lap. She fit as if she was made for him. And not just body to body.

Her taste, her warmth, the tiny purring sound she made...this was what Hollywood movies were made about.

Like the rest of his life in Shelter Valley, the kiss was more than anything he’d ever experienced. Ever imagined.

Addy wrapped her arms all the way around his neck, pulling his mouth more fully against hers, darting her tongue around his lips and inside. He had to have her.

The sensation was animalistic. Instinctive. He kissed her hard and fast, and soft and sweet. Escaping into her, into the world they’d somehow created out of two chairs and a slab of cement.

Time didn’t exist. Place had no meaning. There was Addy. And there was him. As she clung to him, he moved his hands up and down her back, her shape taking form in his palms, becoming a memory he would never lose. He was learning her, feeling her, because he had to know her in every way.

She wasn’t wearing a bra.

He was hard enough to explode and he tightened some more. She was unfettered. For him. The invitation beckoned him beyond rational thought. With one hand supporting her back, he slid his other hand between them, running it beneath her blouse and up her side to the bottom of the swell taunting him. And then slowly up, feeling the softness, the heaviness, of her femininity until he finally reached her nipple. It was hard. He teased it with his fingers and his mouth ached to taste it.

Addy moaned. And moved, opening herself up more fully to him. “Please, Mark...”

Please, Mark. Words he’d heard earlier that night. They’d jabbed and left a wound.

Pulling his mouth away from Addy’s, Mark stood and placed her back in her chair. “I can’t,” he said, his back to her as he stared into the darkness of the yard and willed his body under control. He wasn’t turning around until he could trust himself to resist the temptation of the moments of pure bliss that Addy was offering him.

But they’d only be moments, she’d said so herself. She couldn’t promise anything more than the moment.

And he couldn’t give her anything more.

“I’m sorry.”

He swung around. “For what?”

Shrugging, she motioned toward his empty chair. “Coming on to you like that. I shouldn’t have... I don’t know what came over me. I’ve never behaved like that before.”

With his hands in his pockets holding the fabric of his shorts away from his erection, Mark walked out into the yard and then turned to face her. “Don’t be sorry,” he said, confusion and disappointment giving the words more passion than he’d intended. “Ever. For that,” he added. “That was the best... It was a kiss I’ll never forget.”

“But you’re going to marry Ella, aren’t you?”

He had to tell her about the baby. He was an honest man. And had never known honor to cost so much.

“I have to.”

“No, you don’t. Not unless you love her.”

“You know how I feel about love.”

“Right, you don’t believe in it.”

“In the beginning people mistake lust for love. Kind of like the excitement and thrill of getting a new big-screen TV.” He sounded like a moron. “And then the newness wears off and all that’s left is disillusionment and disappointment. It’s far better to be realistic. To look life head-on, see what’s really there, and make the best of it.”

&nb

sp; “I don’t agree.”

He couldn’t help that. You couldn’t change what a lifetime of living had taught you.

Tags: Tara Taylor Quinn Romance
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