Redemption's Kiss by Ann Christopher

Author:Ann Christopher [Christopher, Ann]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Romance, Contemporary Fiction, series, Contemporary, Fiction, United States, African American, Harlequin Kimani Romance, Literature & Fiction
Amazon: B0037NB6AK
Publisher: Kimani Romance
Published: 2010-05-02T04:00:00+00:00

Eventually, Jillian tumbled, exhausted, into bed, where she tossed and turned like an Olympic gymnast doing her floor exercises. She fell into a troubled sleep just before dawn, and he came to her right away.

They sat on the sofa. Without a word, he swung her legs across his lap, which was a huge relief. Thank God he was touching her; thank God he’d taken the decision out of her hands.

He went to work on her feet the way he always had, gripping them in his strong hands and rubbing them, getting her used to the feel of him again.

Not that she’d ever forgotten.

“Tell me,” he said.

“I can’t.”

“Hmm.”

He ran his thumb up the sole of her right foot, from her heel to her toes, in the wonderful massage that skirted the line between delicious pain and real discomfort. She melted into the cushions, her worries slipping away despite all her efforts to hold them close and nurture them. Then he switched feet, starting the sweet torture all over again, and there went more fears and anxieties, gone like the outer layers of a baseball-sized Bermuda onion.

It was safe here and she could, just this once, be honest.

Who would know?

“Tell me,” he said again.

“I need you.”

“For what?”

“Everything.”

His thumb zeroed in on her spot…oh, God, her spot, the one that drove her wild, right on her instep, right there. There. The spot was a secret pipeline that sent electrical jolts to her sex and contracted her belly with need.

She twisted, but he held tight and it was okay because she couldn’t see his eyes and didn’t have to face his burning intensity. Her twisting became writhing, and her breath, a moan.

“What’s everything?”

She could answer because there was no smugness in his tone, only a deep curiosity. And this was only a dream, right? Wasn’t she safe here?

“I need to talk to you about Mary. And Allegra. And the inn. And my life. I need my friend back.”

“Hmm.”

His hands slid over her calves in unbearable, feathery strokes. She stretched out and lay back, letting the sensations wash over her until her hips arched. After tickling behind her knees, he kneaded her calves—one in each hand—with muscle-deep squeezes so satisfying she thought she might die on the spot.

“What else do you need?”

“I need to turn to you. Trust you. I need to know you’ll be there if I fall apart or if I need to lean on you. I need to be the only one.”

“I see.”

She’d known it was coming, but that didn’t prepare her for the shock of his fingers heading north, over her thighs, and coming to rest right—ahhh, yesss, right there. They circled the hard nub beneath her panties, driving her higher with a relentless rhythm that had her pumping her hips in a desperate counterpoint.

“Beau.”

It was a plea. A down-on-her-knees, intense beg of the worst kind. There was nothing she wouldn’t do for that touch, nothing she wouldn’t admit or say, no confession too scary.

“What else do you need?”

The words were

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