Holly Lane by Toni Blake

break the spell holding them in its grasp. So she only sighed in his ear, kissed his neck, breathed in the masculine scent of him again—then felt him begin to move in her. And then she held to him tight, absorbing the wonder of his body moving over hers, moving in hers. Oh God— yes, yes . Each deep stroke plunged straight to her core, left her feeling every ounce a woman, pleasure erupting from her as hot sighs and unrestrained moans.
    It surprised her a little when Adam wrapped his arms around her and rolled them both until he lay on his back, putting her on top. But it didn’t surprise her after she thought about it—it didn’t surprise her to learn that Adam was a considerate lover and wanted her to come and probably figured it was more likely this way.
    Just as from the moment he’d first kissed her, her body took over, moving on him of its own volition as fresh heat skittered through her from head to toe. And somehow she grew more aware of everything around her: the gentle pop and crackle of the warming blaze a few feet away, the way her knees dug into the rug of blue and green beneath them, the light sheen of perspiration on Adam’s forehead, the sway of her breasts in the firelight, the vibrant blue of his eyes as he watched her. She’d have thought it would feel strange, embarrassing, to have him see her naked—but it was just the opposite. Adam’s eyes on her made her feel beautiful, and natural, and free.
    She rode him with pure recklessness as the waves of pleasure rose higher and higher inside her. She arched her back and pressed her palms to his chest, feeling his gaze on her breasts as her arms pushed them together. She leaned her head back in abandon and let those waves finally wash over her in a stunning orgasm that rocked her body more deeply than she could ever recall. Then she closed her eyes and cried out as it swept through her, again, again, again.
    And just as she began to slump onto him in exhaustion, his hands tightened on her hips and he said, “Aw God—me, too,” and thrust up into her powerful and deep, lifting her body to leave her totally impaled on him as he yelled out his climax as well.
    “Oh God,” she whispered against his chest when it was all over. “Oh God.” It had been the most unexpected sex of her life. And the best sex of her life. And all with her ex-husband’s best friend. Oh boy.
    A dam woke up on the rug by the fire and glanced over to see—holy crap—Sue Ann. He tried to swallow back his shock, though, since he’d known good and well what he was doing the whole time he’d been kissing her and then moving inside her.
    He could blame it on his weird bad mood. Or he could blame it on her slinky pajama top. Or he could blame it on the snowstorm. All of them definitely had a hand in this, after all. But as he watched her now, asleep, pretty, her bared skin aglow in the waning firelight, he began to get hard all over again, that fast. Which meant it hadn’t just been a heat-of-the-moment indiscretion. He’d really wanted her. Sue Ann Kinman—who’d later become Sue Ann Simpkins. He’d been the best man at her wedding, for God’s sake. And he’d just never thought of her like this before. Even when he’d flirted with her today behind that reindeer head . . . well, that was a hell of a far cry from this . And it had been a hell of a lot simpler than this, too.
    Still, now that he was thinking of her that way, he wasn’t inclined to stop. At least not yet. The afghan that had fallen from her shoulders earlier was now pulled across both their bodies, covering them from the waist down, but he was glad her breasts—just as gorgeous as he’d suspected—remained on display. Hell, it was hard to believe that he’d had them now—he’d held them, kissed them. And he’d been between her slender, welcoming legs.
    God, the truth was, it made him feel lucky—damn lucky. Since he was fairly certain that up until now only Jeff had gotten to experience that.