Whiskey Beach - By Nora Roberts Page 0,96

glided her lips over him, as her skilled hands pressed, kneaded, stroked. Arousing, soothing, seducing the already seduced.

Naked in bed. That’s how he wanted her.

He peeled the snug, stretchy pants over her hips, down her legs, exploring her inch by inch all the way to her ankles. And up again over the taut curve of calf, the delicate back of her knee, along the firm length of her thigh to that hot, damp core.

She arched, a hand digging into the sheet, fisting there as pleasure struck and quivered. And it built, built, built until she broke, until she cartwheeled into the tumble of sensations.

She levered up, dragging him to her, latching her arms around him when they knelt body-to-body on the bed.

Heat flooded her, sent even her blood to sizzling under her skin as the breeze whipped in the open doors to flow over them.

It danced through her hair, he thought, and the sun streamed over her like molten gold. They might’ve been on some lost island with the relentless voice of the sea, the tang of it on the air, the mocking laugh of gulls winging across the blue bowl of sky.

Now those limbs wrapped around him—demand, invitation, plea. He took what she offered, gave what she asked. His body plunged to hers while lips met in unsated appetite.

Faster, stronger, with her head flung back and his mouth on her throat where her pulse beat in mad time.

Then she cried out his name, just his name, and he felt even his slippery hold on control snap loose.

He lay facedown, she faceup, and both struggled for breath. With her eyes closed, Abra slid her hand over, found his arm, trailed down until she could link fingers with him.

“That was a hell of an afternoon break.”

“My new favorite kind,” he mumbled, his voice muffled against the mattress.

“I really have to get up and get back to work.”

“Let me write an excuse note to your boss.”

“She won’t buy it. She’s really strict.”

Now he turned his head and studied her profile with sleepy eyes. “No, she’s not.”

“You don’t work for her.” She curled toward him now. “She can be a total bitch.”

“I’m going to tell her you said that.”

“Better not. She might fire me, then who’d clean the house?”

“That’s a point.” He draped an arm around her. “I’ll help you deal with the rest of the house.”

She started to decline, quickly and gently. She had a routine, and he’d be in her way. But she let it go—for now. “Why aren’t you doing your own work?”

“I’m taking the rest of the day off.”

“Dog love?”

“No.” He trailed his fingers through her hair before he sat up. “I have enough finished and polished up to send to my agent. So I did.”

“That’s great.” She popped up beside him. “Isn’t it?”

“I guess I’ll find out in the next few days.”

“Let me read it.” When he shook his head, she rolled her eyes.

“Okay, I get that, more or less. How about letting me read one scene? Just one. A page?”

“Maybe. Maybe later.” Evade now, he thought, as she had a sneaky way of talking him into things. Like a dog. “I’ll ply you with wine first so you’re mildly impaired.”

“I can’t get mildly impaired tonight. I have a yoga class at home.”

“Sometime. Later. I’ll help you get some of the stuff the cops jumbled up put back.”

“Okay, you can strip the bed, that’s basic.”

Even as she rolled out of it, the dog let out a trio of warning barks.

“Perfect,” Eli muttered, grabbed his pants. He heard the dog charge down the steps, barking like a hound out of hell.

“You win that one.” He dragged on his shirt. “And you’re naked.”

“I’ll take care of that.”

“Too bad. Naked housekeeping might’ve been fun.”

She grinned as he hurried out, as he called to the dog.

Eli Landon, she thought, was coming back strong.

Downstairs he ordered the dog to stop. She surprised him by doing just that, butt sitting right by his side as he opened the door.

He tried to block that first, automatic strike of panic when he saw cops. Pushed back against the dark cloud that habitually followed.

Not Wolfe at least, he thought.

“Detective Corbett, Vinnie.”

“Nice dog,” Corbett began.

“Hey, is that Barbie?” When the dog immediately reacted with a greeting woof and wagging tail, Vinnie bent down to pet her. “You’ve got Barbie, Mr. Bridle’s dog. He died in his sleep a couple weeks ago. The neighbor came to check on him as she did most days, and found Barbie here guarding

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