Lucky Streak (Lucky 2)

“I understand, Nanette. I know he had a rough morning, but I’d hoped he’d feel better this afternoon.” She gripped the receiver tighter in her hand.

Obviously she was talking to someone at the nursing home and her father wasn’t doing well.

“Thanks. I’ll call in the morning,” she said, then hit the off button, placing the phone on the nightstand.

“Your father?” Mike asked.

Amber nodded. “He’s more out of it today than usual. The good news is he doesn’t know I’m not around to visit him.” Her voice cracked with the admission.

Her pain touched him and he reached out to pull her close. “He can’t tell you, but somewhere deep inside your father, he knows that you love him, that you’re caring for him the best way you can,” he said gruffly.

She tilted her head back and studied him. “Do you believe that?” she asked, her eyes wide and hopeful.

Mike knew she was asking far more than whether her father, in his Alzheimer’s-induced state, sensed her caring. What she wanted to know as whether Mike now believed she had done the best, the only thing she could do back in Vegas for her only parent.

Mike cupped her cheek in one hand and stroked her cheek. “I believe you thought you were doing the best thing you could.”

She let out a tremulous breath and treated him to a sweet smile. “Well, that’s a start.”

He didn’t reply. He couldn’t. Her skin was soft, her hair curling gently around her face, and he was entranced. Then, when she moistened her lips with her delicate tongue, his body went up in flames.

&nb

sp; “I missed you last night,” she said. Her fingers idly stroked the bed, making him realize how badly he needed her to stroke him.

It had been like this from first sight, Mike thought, this unique yearning for her.

Only her.

“I missed you, too.” The admission cost him a chunk of pride, yet he didn’t care.

“What did you say?” She cocked her head to the side, a twinkle in her eyes. “Are you really admitting that you missed me?” she asked, obviously pleased. Her genuine pleasure at their connection was a tangible thing.

He’d made her happy and he was glad. But she didn’t need to know he’d lost his inner battle. It was up to him to come to terms with wanting her despite their differences, and with accepting what she offered, only for as long as she was his wife. Those were his burdens to bear.

He pushed those thoughts out of his mind and turned his attention to the woman in front of him. “Yes, I missed you. I admit it. I hope now that you’ve gotten what you wanted out of me, you’re not complaining?” He shifted his touch from her face and ran his hand along the back of her hair, savoring the feel of the long strands against his skin.

Amber shook her head and grinned. “Far from it. Want to know just how glad?”

He nodded and she looped her arms around his neck, pulling him close until his lips closed over hers. He kissed her with all the longing and pent-up desire that had been building ever since she’d left Boston. Kissed her with the same passion she exhibited and then some.

He eased her backward until she lay on the bed, their mouths never breaking the sensual connection. He pulled her shirt up and slid his hand beneath the soft cotton, moving upward until he reached her breast, covered by a sheer slip of a bra. Ignoring the material, he cupped her in his palm and moved his hand in deliberate circles until her nipple peaked against him. Then he moved to the other breast, arousing her the same way.

Beneath him, her hips rotated in a rhythm that begged him for so much more than he was giving her, and he reveled in her soft whimpers. He slid his mouth from her lips, across her cheek, and began nibbling on her earlobe. His tongue trailed a path down her neck, pausing only in places he knew would make her writhe in need.

Ignoring his own desires in favor of hers wasn’t easy. He wanted nothing more than to bury himself in her soft heat and slake the yearning, if only for a little while. Because with Amber, the need for her always returned, fast and with more intensity than before.

She reached for him, obviously intending to lift his shirt, but he held her hands at her sides. “Your turn first,” he whispered in her ear.

He reached for her, about to lift the hem of her shirt, wanting to replace his hands with his mouth and give her even more pleasure.

The sound of yelling suddenly intruded on their desire-filled haze. His father’s yelling. From outside.

Mike closed his eyes, wanting to push reality away, but he couldn’t.

Amber shot backward against the pillows, readjusting her clothes as she moved. “Something’s wrong!”

He rose and shifted the waistband on his jeans. His body still hadn’t absorbed that it wasn’t going to happen and he tried to find some comfort before heading outside to see what had upset his father.