Free Temperatures Rising by Brenda Jackson

was the greatest gift he could ever receive. Something he had been waiting his lifetime to have.
    What made it even more special was that she had been the one to initiate it. She was surrendering herself to him willingly, and he was taking her mouth greedily. He had been right all along: she was a very passionate woman. He could feel her passion, taste it. And more than anything, he wanted to bury himself in the very heat of that passion, right inside her.
    When breathing became necessary, she pulled away from his mouth and leaned against the back of the sofa to breathe in deeply while staring into his face. Their positions had shifted again and somehow she had him on his back beneath her.
    Her lips were swollen from their kiss, her eyes aflame with desire, her face flushed with sensual need. At that moment he realized that Sherri Griffin was no ordinary woman. No ordinary woman had the capability to do the things she was doing to him. She had his entire body throbbing, his blood rushing through his veins, his insides on fire.
    “It’s your turn,” she said, severing his thoughts.
    His breathing deepened to a feverish pitch. “Are you sure?”
    He knew what giving him a turn meant, but he wanted to make sure she knew, as well. Before she could respond to his question, he said, “I think it’s only fair to warn you that I’ve wanted you from that first day in Warrick’s office. Since then I’ve dreamed about you and me together this way countless times. Fantasized about it, as well. Once I take my turn, Sherri, I might not be able to stop. Chances are that I won’t.”
    To indicate that she fully understood, she nodded. And then she swallowed deep in her throat before asking in a breathless tone, “Do you intend to play or pass, Terrence?”
    He shifted both their bodies sideways and then leaned in closer and said in a deep, husky voice, “I intend to play.”
    “Then it’s your serve.”
    That was all he needed to hear.

Chapter 7
    T errence had kissed her several times before, but nothing, Sherri thought, could have prepared her for this. He wasn’t just kissing her. He was staking a claim to her mouth that one would think went beyond a mere one-night stand. There was an urgent need within him. Demanding. And she felt it all the way through to her bones.
    He was kissing her like she was the core to his very existence, and she could do nothing more than respond while her insides quivered and sensations surged through her nerve endings.
    Then his hands seemed to roam everywhere, onher breasts, underneath her skirt, touching her as if she belonged to him, not just for tonight but for days to come, weeks, months, years. The absurdity of that thought stuck in her mind, but not for long. The moment he used his legs to nudge her thighs apart and then put his hand between them to touch her intimately through her panties, any and all thoughts dispersed from her mind on a breathless moan. He pulled his hand back then and broke off their kiss, but she had a feeling he was just beginning.
    And he proved her right.
    Their eyes caught just seconds before he pushed back enough to start removing her clothes. He pulled her blouse easily over her head. Tossing it aside, he undid the front clasp of her bra in one smooth flick of the wrist. Once he had taken that off her, his gaze feasted on the twin globes and the hardened buds of her nipples. He sat back on his haunches, examined them in detail with his eyes, and she felt the heat of his gaze as it trailed all over her chest.
    After getting his visual fill, he stood to remove her skirt. Words were not spoken between them. None were needed. It was accepted. Understood. She knew they wanted the same thing, and tonight they would be getting it.
    With his fingers in the waistband of her skirt, hegently eased it down her legs, baring all of her to him in the process. She was wearing a pair of bikini panties, but from the way he was looking at her she might as well not have been