His jaw worked. “No. You’re right.” His voice had softened.
“I liked it better when we weren’t talking at all.”
Something sparked in the atmosphere.
“Then let’s quit,” he said, and kissed her.
All thoughts of their kids left Molly. She loved Richard’s kisses—the way he consumed her, but gently, tugging at her lips with his teeth and the suction of his mouth, sliding his tongue against hers in a sensual dance, encouraging her to respond in kind. She sank back against the sofa, and the next thing she knew she was slipping her hands beneath his sweater to the bare skin of his belly and upward, while he had her blouse unbuttoned.
He made a pleased sound when he discovered she’d worn a front-closing bra. One flick of his finger and it opened. Molly groaned when he left her mouth to nuzzle and kiss her breasts.
“We shouldn’t…” she whispered, even as her fingers flexed on his chest. His hard, male nipple was a nubbin beneath one palm. She moved her hand experimentally.
“Shh.” He suckled, nipped then let his tongue play with her nipple. “We won’t take our clothes off. We can pull ourselves together in a hurry.”
That sounded reasonable enough for Molly to let her instinctive anxiety go. Cait hadn’t been gone that long, anyway. She probably wouldn’t be home for a couple of hours.
Molly’s hips lifted from the sofa to push against his hand. She groaned when he cupped her and squeezed.
“Wish you were wearing a skirt,” he muttered.
Or nothing. Nothing would be even better.
But when he unfastened her slacks and slipped his hand beneath her panties, worry stirred in her again. “Maybe we should go upstairs.”
“How do we explain that if Cait comes home?”
Oh, God, this felt good. Her knees fell open.
How would she explain to her daughter why Richard was upstairs? He could hide behind her bed if Cait came home and then sneak out later.... No, his truck was at the curb in front of the house. Cait would already know he was here. Of course that wouldn’t work.
She whimpered and felt her body tightening. He seemed to know exactly how to touch her, when to let his fingertips ghost over her flesh, when to apply pressure and how much.
“Yes. Richard. Please.” She lifted up and ground against his hand.
The sound of a key in the front door lock had her jolting upright. Richard swore and leaped back, yanking down his sweater. Molly fumbled for her zipper as she heard the door open.
“Hey, Mom.”
There were footsteps. More than one set? She got her zipper up and pulled the edges of her blouse together but she couldn’t even pretend to have buttoned them when she heard the gasp.
“Mom!” It was pure shock.
“Dad?” Disbelief.
Knowing her face had to be flaming red, Molly turned her head to see the worst. Cait and Trevor stood only a few feet away, gaping at their parents.
Trevor’s gaze moved from where Molly clutched her shirt together in a fisted hand to his father’s face. Then his face contorted. “You’re doing Cait’s mom?”
Richard rose to his feet. “I’m in love with Cait’s mom.” His voice was quiet but hard, too.
“I can’t believe it.” Rage twisting his face, Trevor picked up the coffee table and threw it on its side. Cait screamed and Molly shrank into the corner of the sofa. “You’re as bad as Mom,” he snarled at his father, and ran out.
Cait tore after him. “Trev?”
The front door opened and in the next second slammed shut, rattling a couple of pictures on the walls. Molly winced.
Cait reappeared, disbelief still in her eyes, but something worse, too. “How could you?” she spat, and then her feet were thundering on the stairs.
Swearing, Richard dropped onto the sofa.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“YOU NEED TO GO,” Molly said frantically. She struggled with her bra clasp, her hands shaking.
“Molly…”
“Not now. Please.” She moved on to her blouse, looked down and saw she’d started to button it askew. She had to start over.
“Goddamn it, Molly, talk to me.” Richard sounded so harsh, her head came up. She saw that he looked as shaken as she felt. His dark hair stuck out every which way, and his lips were slightly swollen from their kisses.
With a sinking heart, Molly realized they’d have given themselves away even if they’d miraculously had time to rearrange their clothing and sit a cushion away from each other.
“Oh, dear God,” she whispered.
He moved so that their thighs bumped. His hands, steadier than hers, took over buttoning her blouse. She stared at his face