Page 39 of The Woman in the Hollow
When a surprised gasp escaped me, his teeth sank into my lower lip, turning the gasp into a moan as my legs wrapped around his hips.
He turned us, dropping me down on the countertop. My legs tightened around his lower back, holding us close.
Another moan escaped me as his hardness pressed against me.
Dante’s lips were hard then, demanding, dragging whimpers out of me as my hips did involuntary little circles against his hard length that those stretchy exercise pants of his were doing very little to contain.
Dante’s fingers snuck up under my sweater, cool fingers meeting overheated skin.
Our lips broke apart as my head fell back on a moan when his cock pressed just right.
Dante’s heavy-lidded eyes opened and held mine as his hips ground against me once again.
My groan caught on a gasp, though, as light suddenly flooded the shop.
Only one thing made the place light up like that: someone turned into the lot.
But instead of turning away, the light stayed blinding.
Dante and I yanked apart.
I hopped down off the counter as he moved out from behind it.
With his back to me, I was in my right mind enough to wake up the computer and close out the browser windows.
My whole body was still trembling with need as I grabbed my phone and purse just as Dante moved out of the store, the door chiming.
My fingers tightened around my phone as my mind flashed back to the body in the woods, wondering if this was the killer, if he was back for Dante… or me.
But then I saw the driver of the large SUV.
Domenico.
He and Dante seemed to be having a bit of a heated discussion, and I felt my stomach twist, worried my manager was getting in trouble for something that I’d done wrong.
I powered down the computer, then walked on shaky legs, pausing only to lock the door.
Domenico caught my eye, giving me what seemed like a friendly wave. Maybe Dante wasn’t yelling at him about me.
“I’m going to, uh, get going,” I called to Dante, ducking my head and rushing toward my car.
Domenico pulled over to allow me to back out.
I just barely managed to hold myself back from peeling out of the lot.
What waswrongwith me?
How could I let a man who might be covering up a murder andlying to meabout it kiss me? How could I rock against his hard length and dream about yanking down his pants and sucking him into my mouth, then feeling him slip deep inside me with one long slide?
Even alone in my car, feelings completely conflicted, my sex clenched hard enough to make me press my thighs together to ease the ache.
When I got to my apartment parking lot, I leaned forward, pressing my forehead into the wheel.
I needed to move that buying a new vibrator thing higher up on my to-do list.
Because I could not let myself hook up again with a man who might be dishonest with me about something as serious as a man’s death.
Even as I drifted off to sleep later, though, the memory of his lips on mine refused to stop invading my mind.
