A Deep and Dark December by Yarnall Beth

Author:Yarnall, Beth [Yarnall, Beth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General Fiction
Published: 2015-04-05T22:00:00+00:00

They left his car in front of the police station and walked up the hill in the rain to Erin’s house. Standing at her door, dripping, Erin struggled to fit the key in the lock. She shook, not from the chill, but with a craving that ran so deep, it scared her more than anything. If Graham were going to reject her, she’d just as soon he did it right here on the porch. Once they crossed the threshold she couldn’t be responsible for what she might do. Desperate as she was, she wasn’t above begging and that, well, that would be the end of whatever they had going here and the last of her self-respect.

He fit his hand over hers and guided the key into the lock for her. She turned it and hesitated, biting the inside of her cheek. He put a hand on her shoulder, twisting her around to face him. The last shreds of her control slipped away under the heaviness of his stare. She saw the same mixture of longing, nerves, need, and unworthiness she felt.

She fisted the front of his shirt and pulled him through the door with her. She didn’t stop pulling him until they were in her bedroom. There, they squared off. And then he slowly reached back and closed the door behind him. In the darkness she could feel him, burning in the space between them. She didn’t know who moved first, but suddenly they were on each other, kissing, touching, yanking at clothing, each other’s and their own.

His shirt hit the floor with a wet smack. He’d gotten soaked, having left his coat with her father. That thought did more to excite her than the magic he was doing with his fingers and mouth. And oh, what magic it was. Her blouse and bra vanished, replaced with his hands. He bit her earlobe and she let out a loud moan, her knees dipping. His chuckle was low and wicked as he bit her again.

“God, Graham.”

“Yes, Erin?”

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” she panted, reaching for the button of his pants.

“So are you,” he said, shoving her jeans down her hips.

He cupped her backside, bringing her up against him. She could feel the hardness of him and renewed her efforts to free him. The wet denim wouldn’t budge. She made a frustrated noise, which seemed to amuse him as he took over the job, slipping out of the rest of his clothes faster than she could have wished them away.

The first feel of him skin on skin nearly pushed her over the edge. He groaned and pulled her closer, pressing against her belly. She ran her hands over him, learning the lines of his body. The hardness here, the fleshy tautness there. She skated her fingers across a puckered ridge on his side. The anomaly drew her back to it, but before she could explore it further, he captured her hand and brought it to his chest. He turned them, moving them toward the bed.

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