of you?”
Letting his gaze drift over her, Rafe made damned
certain she remembered everything he knew she
wanted to forget.
She flushed. Her gray eyes darkened in both
arousal as well as anger. Temptation was the least of
her worries. It wasn’t the temptation that was going to
get her back into his bed. It was the memories that
would accomplish that. The memories of pleasure so
hot, so intense it had sent her running in fear when
she thought he had finally gone to sleep. Oh yeah, he
had her now and there would be no escape. At least,
not until someone managed to dig the snow out of his
road.
His cock throbbed, pulsing in memory of the
sweetest pleasure he had ever known, buried in the
ultratight, fiery hot grip of her pussy. For a second, the
remembered sound of her shattered cries, the feel of
her going wild atop him, riding his dick until they both
exploded in a release he swore marked something
inside him. It was definitely a memory that tortured
him with a hunger no other could slake. The memory
of it had the power to keep him awake at night. And it
made him ache.
Five years. For five years he had been tormented
with that memory, unable to find that release with any
other woman, and ache for the pleasure and the
woman who caused it, until at times he swore even
his back teeth hurt from the need.
“Stop, Rafer.” She shivered hard as the wind
whipped around them and the memories heated
them. “We agreed—”
“We didn’t agree to a damn thing; you fucking
decided to pretend it didn’t happen without so much
as consulting me. And I’ve had enough of the cold. I’m
going inside.”
He turned and slammed inside the house,
entering the warmth of the kitchen. Furious now, his
drunk wearing off, Rafe stalked to the counter and the
coffeemaker he prepped for morning.
Flipping the switch, he stood, waiting until the
dark liquid began streaming into the pot. Behind him,
the door opened, then closed again softly, bringing
with it the sweet, clean scent of the blizzard and the
woman he hadn’t been able to even try to forget.
He stared at the wall, anger churning along with
the lust and creating a searing heat in his gut.
She still wore that familiar spicy scent he
remembered. It tugged at a man’s memory making
him think of summer, sex, and pleasure. The scent of
her perfume became a little deeper, a little more
evocative, and hot when she melted beneath him.
“What the hell are you doing out in a blizzard
anyway?” he asked, keeping his back to her as he
pulled two mugs from the cabinet over the
coffeemaker.
“I was visiting my parents in Aspen.” There was
no sense of reluctance or hesitation in her voice as
there had been the last time she had spoken to him at
that damned funeral. But it also wasn’t as husky and
sexy as it had been the last time he’d had her. Or the
first time.
His balls tightened in agony.
Son of a bitch, forgetting the pleasure he found in
her was like trying to forget the sweetest paradise
ever experienced after being thrown from it.
“And how are your parents?” It was a social
nicety and one he had to force past his lips.
How she could stomach even acknowledging her
parents, he had never been able to figure out. Neither
her mother nor her father had been supportive of her.
They hadn’t even pretended to care about her.
“I was there to help Dad settle Mother into a rest
home. She never recovered from the stroke she had
in the summer.” There was a poignant sadness in
Cami’s voice. He couldn’t imagine it was because
either parent had tried to make her feel accepted, let
alone loved.
No, it had been her aunt and uncle who protected
her after her sister had been killed, it had been her
aunt and uncle, Ella and Eddy, who had celebrated all
the successes and failures, both big and small, with
her.
Rafe’s jaw clenched as he turned back to Cami,
forcibly pushing those memories aside. “I’m
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley