A Second Chance at Love: A Hometown Hero Series Novel by Clare Connelly Page A

angrily. “Fuck you,” she responded, but tears were collecting in her eyes. She reached for the honey, and before he could guess her intentions, she pulled the condom loose and tossed it aside, then upended the honey on his hard, tight arousal. He gasped as she followed it with her mouth, as he had done to her. He swore, and ran his fingers through her hair, gripping her blonde head as his body began to shake with the complete desire she had unlocked.
    Her tongue was both heaven and hell, a weapon that was making his body ache and throb. She was sobbing as she brought him right to the edge of climax. When he was just about to lose all control, she shifted position, and slipped on top of him, groaning as he filled her feminine core completely. She thrust downwards, taking him inside of her, wanting and needing him.
    He exploded with a guttural cry of longing, his whole body slamming against hers as they met the field of desire together. His fingers sought hers, lacing with them, tangling them to their sides, as her breasts were soft against his hard chest, her legs wrapped around his waste.
    Their breathing was tortured in just the same way, loud snatches of air humming through the room. But as desire subsided, sanity threatened to return.
    Harrison wouldn’t let it. He had her where he wanted her, he just need to convince her that it made sense.
    But she was married. His eyes flew to the ring, discarded in the corner of the room. God, she had a husband. A husband she probably felt this pleasure with. A husband who had been good enough for her. Had there been other men during her marriage? Did she cheat often?
    He closed his eyes and squeezed those thoughts out. This wasn’t cheating. Madeline had been his first. She would always be his. Despite the eight years that had passed between them, theirs was a connection that no one could compete with.
    He lowered his mouth to her shoulder, and licked a patch of honey from her skin. “You need a shower.”
    Her expression was strained. The shock of what had just happened was obviously getting through to her. He couldn’t let it.
    “Come with me,” he said, huskily, standing, and pulling her with him. He pushed through to the ensuite, and started the water running. “Get in, Madeline.”
    She looked at him archly. “Were you always this dictatorial?”
    His smile lacked amusement, and also warmth. “No. But I used to think you knew what was good for you.”
    She shivered a little. But the feelings he was evoking were too good. Too perfect.
    “Obviously, I was mistaken. I should never have let you go. I should have bundled you into my car and kidnapped you. Made you marry me.”
    She shook her head. “You couldn’t do that, Harrison. You’re too good. Too kind.”
    “Perhaps. I was an idiot though. And so were you, Madeline. What were you thinking, letting your father make these choices for you?”
    He opened the door to the shower and nudged her inside. He followed immediately behind her and trapped her against the wet, cold tiles. She shivered. “I mean it. You are smart and you are confident. Your father’s a jackass. Why the hell did you let him put an end to us?”
    She could never tell Harrison. It was the impossible, unending conundrum. For even once Kenneth was dead, Harrison would still be chief of police in the county. His obligation would be to report Diana’s crime, if he knew of it. And so Madeline shook her head. “Old habits die hard.”
    “Aint that the truth,” Harrison nodded, an ironic smile on his face. “Turn around. Let me wash the honey off your shoulders.”
    She did as he said, reaching up subconsciously to feel the slick of gold that had trickled down her back.
    With her facing the wall, and water cascading over them, he traced a line of soap from one shoulder to the other, and then discarded it. He ran his hands over her skin, admiring and pleasuring. She was standing straight, her head pressed to the tiles. But he wanted her. She was