The Best Man to Trust - By Kerry Connor Page 0,63

claim her, driving a moan from deep in her throat. He cupped the back of her head in his hand, his fingertips stroking against her skin, drawing her mouth closer to him, devouring her further.

Suddenly her back bumped against the door behind her. Something hard dug into her spine.

The doorknob, she realized, wincing against the pain.

He must have noticed. He immediately broke the kiss. A deep sense of loss crashed over her and it was all she could do not to reach out and catch his face in her hands, to pull him back to her. He leaned away slightly, his face still only inches from hers.

The distance allowed her to see what was behind him. The empty hallway. She suddenly remembered where they were, what lurked in the shadows. She glanced down the hall. “We shouldn’t do this,” she whispered. “Not here.”

“You’re right,” he murmured, releasing her. He scanned the hall, as well.

She watched him, wondering what would happen next, what she wanted to happen next.

And she knew. Knew exactly what she wanted to happen, more than anything she’d ever wanted in her entire life.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out her keys, quickly unlocking the door. Shoving it open, she stepped inside and turned back to face him.

He stood just on the other side of the threshold, watching her, seemingly waiting to see what she wanted to do.

Meredith pushed the door open farther and took another step back.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked softly.

“Yes.” People were dying all around them. They didn’t know when they would get out of here, didn’t know what would happen next, didn’t know if they could count on seeing tomorrow. All the more reason to live for the moment, for now.

She needed this. She needed him.

“I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

He didn’t hesitate further, walking into the room and pushing the door shut behind him.

Then, finally, his mouth was on hers again. She plunged her hands into his hair to hold him close, to draw him near as his lips stroked against hers, as she met him kiss for kiss. Each one only drove the need inside her higher. Each one was better than the last. She needed them. She needed this. She needed more. She needed to touch him, to taste him. Needed the utterly, achingly delicious feeling of his tongue moving against hers, of his mouth capturing, taking, teasing her own.

She felt his hands go around her hips. They reached for the bottom of her sweater, his fingertips brushing the soft skin at the small of her back.

She instinctively tensed.

As soon as she did she wished she hadn’t. Because Tom went still, clearly having felt her reaction. A moment later, he pulled away. She felt a burst of fear that he would let her go entirely.

He didn’t, leaning back just far enough to look into her eyes, an open question in his.

“Everything okay?”

Meredith nodded quickly. Her cheeks burned with humiliation. “Yes. I’m sorry. It’s just...I haven’t...been with anyone since...” She swallowed hard.

She saw from his face that she didn’t need to finish. He knew what she meant.

Since Brad.

His voice gentled. “We don’t have to do this....”

The warmth, the kindness, the sheer tenderness on that magnificent face broke something inside her. That momentary uncertainty vanished, washed away in a rush of adrenaline that poured through her.

She held on tightly to the front of his sweater, not wanting to let him get even an inch farther away. “Yes,” she said over the lump in her throat. “The past few days have been a nightmare. The past year— Heck, the past seven years were so terrible it’s felt like I would never wake up from them. I’ve had the nightmare. Now I want the dream.”

She watched the words wash over him, saw the shifting emotions as they sank in. Finally his expression softened. A slight smile touched his lips, just before he lowered them to hers once more.

It was just a single kiss. He pressed his lips to hers firmly, catching her mouth in one long, lingering caress before breaking it off. His smile deepening, he eased her fingers from his sweater.

“Why don’t I start?”

Reaching down, he tore off his sweater, revealing a lean, toned torso dusted with blond hair. The breath hitched in her throat as she took in the sight of him. It was the body of an active man, long and lightly muscled. She instinctively reached out, wanting to feel the warmth of his skin, the coiled strength