Beneath the Surface by Gracie C. McKeever Page B

again.
    “And here,” Eric whispered and took her hands in his as he sidled behind her.
    “We shouldn’t…I can’t.” That didn’t come out nearly as firm as she meant it to.
    Was it any wonder he dipped his head again to suck and nibble the skin of her neck? Her squeaky uncertain voice practically gave him carte blanche where her body was concerned.
    He pressed close and she felt the heat of his erection against her buttocks and gasped when he slid a hand around to the front of her pants and eased down the zipper.
    This was totally out of order, totally. She should stop him. Someone needed to stop this.
    He cradled his chin against her collarbone, his breath warm and enticing against her throat as he slid his hands inside her thong and thrust a finger into her.
    Tabitha gasped and arched her body, moving closer to his hand, gently pumping her hips, pulling his finger deeper as he palmed her sex. He slid in another finger and she bucked as he held her against him with his free arm.
    “Easy baby. Easy,” he murmured as he removed his hand and turned her around to face him. He raised his fingers to his mouth, licked each of them in turn and smiled. “I bet you’ll feel as good to sink into as you taste.”
    It’ll be a cold day in hell before you find out! Tabitha wanted to scream it at him, but couldn’t get the words out of her mouth. She just silently stared at him as he bracketed each side of her face with his hands, and bent his head to take her mouth with his. He slid his tongue past her lips, polishing her teeth before thrusting further, searching for her tongue and finding it shamelessly willing and receptive as she kissed him back, tasting herself on his lips.
    She felt like a marionette with arms dangling uselessly at her sides before she moved them up between them and rested her palms flat against his hard moist pecs. She felt his heart pounding in synch with hers, the evidence of his ardor as much a turn-on as his mouth.
    With her finger she slowly circled each nipple in turn, thrilling to him shuddering beneath her hands, her own heart trembling with triumph, warm blood pumping through her veins straight to her head, sizzling her brain cells.
    It was a short-lived victory as the buzzer sounded from the kitchen, again.

    34
    Beneath the Surface
    Eric cursed under his breath and Tabitha caught something about “Grand Central Station.” as he stalked out of the room and headed for the kitchen.
    Not a moment too soon, she thought, shakily zipping up her pants and running her hands through her hair as she headed for the cherry-framed mirror hanging behind the bedroom door.
    Anyone looking at her face would know she’d just been thoroughly kissed—her lips were puffy, her face flushed—kissed and almost stripped bare right here in this bedroom.
    How far would she have let him go? How far would she have let herself go?
    Each question was moot because she knew the answers: as far as he wanted.
    Her secret was out. She wanted him, and he knew she wanted him, knew she hungered. His fingers had been dripping wet with her juices when he’d removed them from her cunt. There was no hiding or denying her lust.
    Tabitha quickly rummaged through her bag for her lipstick, unsteadily reapplied the bronze tint as she glanced in the mirror, finally able to get the coat on straight, and determined to leave regardless of whom was at the door this time.
    She headed for the living room on rubbery legs, silently thanking the stranger downstairs for saving her from herself.

    * * * *
Tabitha squared her shoulders and took a deep breath before stepping across the threshold into the living. She froze several steps away from Eric standing in the foyer with the new arrival.
    Blond, blue-eyed and graceful, she was as beautiful as a runway model and just as tall. Her endless legs elegantly showcased to their best advantage in a black peach-skin mini skirt, a voluptuous figure sure to hold her in good stead with Victoria’s