Mean Streak - Page 15

“Hasn’t it been terrific? Two days, virtually undisturbed.”

“You’re spoiling me. Breakfast in bed this morning.”

“More like lunch,” he said, nuzzling her neck.

She groaned. “I can’t believe we slept so late. How much did we drink last night?”

“I don’t think it was the wine, I think it was the weed. Very high grade.”

She covered her face with her hands and laughed. “It had been years since I’d indulged. My tolerance had lapsed.”

“It was naughty fun.” He trailed a finger between her breasts. “It made you very sexy. Not that you need help in that department.”

Alice wasn’t a head-turner. Her dark hair and eyes complimented her olive complexion, which some might consider striking. She could be called a handsome woman. But even the most forgiving critics would rate her no higher than a five.

However, there were advantages to being involved with a plainer woman. Fear of rejection made her grateful; gratitude made her easily pleased and effortlessly malleable.

A vertical line of concern formed between her eyebrows. “Do you think Emory knows about us?”

“No.”

“Honestly?”

“Honestly, no. She doesn’t.”

His firm denouncement was basically truthful. He could truthfully say that Emory hadn’t accused him of having an affair, which wasn’t to say that she didn’t suspect it. But to alleviate his lover’s concern, he rubbed the space between her eyebrows with his index finger, smoothing out the worry line. “She’s pouting, that’s all.”

“Did she say anything to you before she left?”

Mildly irritated by her persistence, he sighed. “Yes. She said good-bye.”

“You know what I mean. Did she say anything to indicate that she was on to you?”

“I went home to see

her off, and put up token resistance to her going. But frankly I didn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. The sooner she was out of town, the sooner I could get you into bed.” He placed his hand on her breast and began reshaping it with gentle squeezes.

“Nothing else was said?”

“I asked her to call me when she arrived at the motel, and she did.” Near her ear, he growled, “And delayed the fulfillment of my shower fantasy. For which I’ll never forgive her.” He bent down and gave the tip of her breast a love bite.

But she wasn’t so easily distracted. “That was over twenty-four hours ago, Jeff, which is a long time without hearing from her.”

“She said she might spend another night up there, depending on how tired she was after her run. Apparently that’s what she’s doing.”

“How do you know she hasn’t come home while you’ve been here?”

“Because if the house alarm goes off, it beeps my phone. Thank God for apps.”

“Wouldn’t she let you know if she was staying over?”

He sighed with resignation. “Not that I enjoy discussing this, especially during foreplay, but, if you must know, we were angry with each other when she left. She’s miffed and is punishing me by not calling tonight.”

“What were you angry about?”

“That damn marathon she’s running.”

“What do you have to do with her running a marathon?”

Tags: Sandra Brown Mystery
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