For My Daughters by Barbara Delinsky

Author:Barbara Delinsky
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Tags: Romance, Contemporary
ISBN: 0061374555
Publisher: Avon A
Published: 1994-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

Riding in Jesse’s pickup was a whole other experience. It was a man’s vehicle, roomy enough for his long frame, but still a vehicle, and, in that, confining. Worse, it had a bench seat. Leah wasn’t prepared for a bench seat—or the ease it allowed in sitting close to the driver.

Downlee looked different, more friendly and familiar, from under the protection of Jesse’s long arm. Once parked in front of Julia’s, Leah pulled on his hooded slicker, dashed inside, dropped off the loaves, and dashed back to the truck. He had the door open. She quickly slid in, nestling closer and closer during the return to Star’s End. By the time he pulled up behind his cottage, she had an arm around his waist and her face against his throat.

She couldn’t get enough of him—of touching him, feeling him, smelling him. She wanted to stay with him. But she knew her sisters would be wondering where she was.

He killed the engine, brought her up, and kissed her, and though the best of intentions gave her the strength to break away once, then a second time, she couldn’t make it stick. He tasted too good, and she was hungry again.

With surprising ease, she straddled him, and the kisses went on, joined by a hand on her breast, her hip, her thigh. Her insides quickened and warmed. “Ummmm, Jesse,” she whispered.

“Feel good?”

“Does it ever.”

He unzipped her jeans, pulled out her tee shirt, and slipped his hands underneath.

She groaned. “I have to get back to the house.”

He stemmed the thought with his mouth and kissed her until she was too busy to protest. Her hands combed his hair, rubbed his shoulders, slipped down his sides—using the realness of his body to ward off whimsical thoughts, like destiny. She whispered his name, begging for more, and, to the tune of the rain on the roof and the rustle of oilskins, he gave it.

His fingers brought her to a first, shuddering orgasm. She paused only to catch her breath before kicking off her jeans, opening his shorts, and impaling herself. She didn’t move, content to savor his thickness inside her. Her breath came soft and short. Her eyes held his.

He whispered a smug, “Nice, huh?”

“Umm-hmmm. You make me shameless.”

“Everyone should have someone who does that. To be shameless is to be free.”

“I feel free.”

He moved his hands over her, stroking her breasts, her belly, her backside. Her breathing quickened. She rested her forehead on his.

“I could stay like this for a month,” he said, more hoarsely now.

She gave a short, high laugh. “Yes, I think you could.”

“Would you mind?”

Mind? The slightest movement—even that laugh—caused a ripple of sensation. When he slipped his hands under her bottom, the ripples increased.

“Make that two months,” came his hoarse whisper.

“I have to be back in Washington in two weeks.”

“For what?”

“Cancer Society meetings.” She gasped when he raised his hips and came higher inside her. “Ahhhhh, Jesse, that feels good.”

“What if you missed the meetings?” he rasped.

“I couldn’t co-chair the fund-raiser.

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