Gone by Annabel Wolfe Page A

involved, so he went out of his way to make sure she had the same sort of experience.
    Her skin was like hot, slippery satin as he parted her labia and began to stroke her, first with his fingers, and then with his tongue, shifting so he was nestled between her open legs, his hair brushing her slender thighs. He could taste her arousal, feel the swelling of her clitoris as he brought her to climax, and if the low, soft sounds she made were any indication, she was enjoying it with her usual sexual abandon.
    He wanted her to have absolutely no regrets.
    She came with a low, breathless cry, her spine arching, and he kept her there on that peak until she shifted away in an unspoken signal it was too much, her beautiful body still quivering.
    Eric moved between her open legs, took his rigid cock in his hand and guided himself into paradise. Nicole moaned as he entered her, and her inner muscles tightened around his erection with tantalizing pressure, the sensation exquisite.
    “It feels so good,” he whispered on a groan, pushing deep until he was fully inside her, looking into her eyes.
    “Eric.” Her palms slid down his back in a sensual glide that kicked the pleasure up another notch.
    Hard to believe that was even possible.
    He began to move slowly in long withdrawals and inward thrusts, wanting to take her with him if possible, but he was so primed he wasn’t sure he was going to be able to wait. Luckily, they’d been good in bed from that first time, their bodies fitting together with a natural sort of communion, no awkwardness or tension, and her responsiveness was a potent aphrodisiac.
    So was, he’d discovered, making love to a woman you were actually in love with. Sex was great, but it could be something even better, a higher experience than just a mind-blowing orgasm.
    “Oh…oh.” Nicole’s thighs tightened around his hips, and she rocked against him, her eyes drifting shut, the erect tips of her breasts brushing his chest as she began to tremble in his arms.
    That was all it took—he stopped fighting it and rode the wave of her climax as it crested into his, the force of his ejaculation powerful enough the world exploded, disintegrated, splintered into a million tiny pieces.
    Panting, replete, they lay twined together, damp skin to damp skin, his weight balanced on top of her, his fingers smoothing her hair. He kissed her temple, her feathery brows, the tip of her nose, and smiled. “This is my favorite place to be in the whole world.”
    She didn’t return his smile, just briefly closed her eyes.
    “Let me guess,” he said with a hint of wry amusement in his tone. “You’ve heard something very similar from Jack. He and I have always thought right along the same exact lines. I suppose that is why we’re in love with the same woman.”
    “I honestly don’t know how to respond. I can’t believe that I just…that we just…and last night I…” She bit her lip and trailed off.
    Eric eased free and propped himself on one elbow, studying her face. His hand smoothed her hip. “Sweetheart, if you are thinking you aren’t that kind of girl, you aren’t, and this doesn’t make you one either. We are intelligent, responsible, consenting adults. If it was anyone but Jack, I’d feel differently, trust me, but—” He stopped and gave a low laugh. “I’m taking it from your expression he said that about me too.”
    “Something similar,” she admitted.
    “I’m not surprised. He knows he couldn’t expect to just waltz back into your life, shock the hell out of you and have everything be the same.” Eric leaned forward and kissed her lightly. “I bet he said that too.”
     
     
    Jack had wondered if the subject would come up once the tears were done, the disbelief satisfied, the questions—most of them unanswered but still asked—over. The house looked achingly the same, the maple cabinets that his grandfather had made by hand in the kitchen polished as usual, the old table where he’d done