room. After a few moments of silence, Pink Floyd’s “Time” came through the speakers.
“Damn, Hailey. How did you know thatDark Side of the Moon’s my favorite
album?” he called to her from the kitchen.
“I didn’t. I happen to like it as well.”
“Favorite group?”
“That’s a toss-up between Pink Floyd and Fleetwood Mac.”
“Ah, a woman after my own heart. One who appreciates Classic Rock.”
He glanced at her to see her sitting on her couch, her head tilted back and her hair
falling over the back of the couch like a golden waterfall. Once he finished the dishes, he
joined her in the living room.
“Hmm. Sorry. I’m sleepy. It was a long day.”
“I had the same.” Mostly because it dragged on forever before he could see her.
“You know, I never said thank you for what you did for me when I arrived.”
She blinked into his gaze and blushed, like he knew she would. He loved when she
turned all prim and proper after acting like a sexual dynamo.
“A real man would return the favor, wouldn’t he?”
She swallowed, and he saw the pulse at the base of her neck throb. “And you’re
nothing if not a real man, hmm?”
Gage grinned. He knelt between her thighs and reached slowly for the fastening of
her slacks. When she made no move to protest, instead watched him under sleepy eyes,
he stripped her pants and panties from her slowly, sensually. His hands slid over her skin,
feeling the satiny flesh glide under his palms. Her breathing quickened, as did his, but
this time would be purely for her.
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Marie Harte
“You don’t have to do this, you know.”
“I want to. Tasting you is as good as it gets, baby. You’re so incredibly sweet.”
She flushed again and closed her eyes, and he spread her thighs wide. She’d trimmed
her curls, and he smiled, pleased to see more of her. With warm hands, he rubbed her
inner thighs gently, bringing his hands closer and closer to her sex without touching her
