Reach For Me by Elizabeth Cole

Author:Elizabeth Cole [Cole, Elizabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: SkySpark Books
Published: 2019-04-15T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

Mal drifted in the lightest layer of unconsciousness, perfectly content to stay there. He was in bed with Cara, and he wasn’t fully awake or asleep. He should have passed out after the sex they’d just had. Mal couldn’t remember the last time a girl had gotten him that hard. Cara was amazing. The way she tasted, the way she moved, the way she said what she wanted and didn’t want, the way she teased him with her tits at the end. But most of all—and he was never going to tell her this—her hair. He loved the way her red hair looked on the pillow, the way it grazed her shoulders. Sexy and pretty and feminine. It suited her perfectly.

She was still lying on her side, curled up on him. He slid one hand over her back and down to her hip, then, because he couldn’t resist it, he cupped her right ass cheek. Damn. Curvy Cara was hot. He felt like he’d missed a memo.

Of course, Cara wasn’t around before a couple of months ago. And she’d be gone in another month. However long it took to finish the woodwork on the house.

He hoped she enjoyed the sex as much as he did, because he wasn’t nearly done with her. There were more positions to try, there was more sweat to lick off, there was more Cara to bring to climax so that he could see her eyes go soft and dark, the pupils dilating in an unmistakable sign that she’d found the peak he wanted her to reach.

He always wanted his partners to have a good time, but he rarely needed to prove himself in the way he was desperate to do tonight. Maybe just because Cara was harder to get? He wasn’t used to needing to catch a woman’s attention.

Or maybe it was the hint that Cara had settled a few too many times. That she didn’t expect much from any guy because she’d had bad luck in the past.

Was he just trying to restore her opinion of men in general?

No. Because the thought of her with another guy made him want to strike out, hard.

What is that about? he thought. Mal was not the possessive type.

Hazy images formed in his brain, sort of like a dream. Mal fought against it just a bit, because he didn’t want to fall asleep quite yet, not when he was enjoying being exactly where he was right now.

And yet, there was something intriguing about the feeling, and he finally followed the impulse to go a little further into it.

It was autumn in the dream, not as far into the season as in real life. But the trees wore red and orange, and the sky above was marbled blue and white as thin ribbons of clouds striped the air. Mal heard voices ahead of him. He dream-walked forward—the sort of easy movement only dreams have, gliding like a ghost to wherever you were supposed to go.

He rounded the corner of a house, and a huge green lawn opened in front of him.

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