Free A Thrill to Remember by Lori Wilde Page A

creamy taste of her full, rich lips and the way she’d felt wrapped in his arms. The way her body had responded to his touch.
    In a twinkling, he was transported back to that astounding night.
    Slowly, tenderly, he removes her red-feathered mask and the long auburn wig in order to reveal her own coal-black hair. She does not resist. She is not ashamed to let him see her face. And when he removes his mask, she is not alarmed or upset. He sucks in his breath, overwhelmed. His heart thumps at her easy acceptance of his role as her lover.
    She wants him. In fact, she lifts her arms to him and a tempting smile teases her lips as she slowly undoes the top hook of her bustier.
    Another tiny hook undone. Another and then another, until the stiff lacy material lays open just beneath the swell of her breasts. The cool evening breeze causes her nipples to tighten into pink pouting buds.
    Her eyelids drift closed. Loose tendrils of dark hair curl invitingly over her forehead. Her lips part. She tips her chin up.
    “Kiss me,” she commands.
    His blood is at the boiling point, and he’s clutched so hard with need he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to control himself.
    But he must. For her sake. No matter how much his body aches for a frenzied coupling, he will not surrender to the instincts raging within. Not yet.
    Apparently, however, she is feeling just as desperate as he, for she opens her eyes, takes hold of his shirt in her fists and rips the garment from his body. She splays her palms against his chest and then savagely sinks her nails into his flesh. Her breath hisses out through clenched teeth in a sultry sizzle.
    His bulge is straining hard against his leather pants. Roughly, he grasps her wrists and pins her hands above her head.
    “Is this how you want it? Fast and hard?”
    In answer, she just growls and raises her head to nip at his throat.
    He claims her mouth with a merciless kiss that leaves them both gasping for air. He glides his fingertips down her raised arms to her exposed breasts. She shivers at his featherlight touch, obviously confused, but also delighted by his change in tactics.
    Using great care, he unhooks her bustier completely and pushes it open until her flat, ivory-white stomach is bare. He makes quick work of the tap pants, shoving them past her hips. The delicate wisp of red satin tangles around her ankles. She helps, kicking the panties off into the darkness.
    Restlessly, she undulates her hips, calling him back down to her. When he lowers his head and takes one of her pert nipples into his mouth, a low guttural moan slips from her lips.
    He caresses his hands along the smooth, firm planes of her body, exploring every inch of her. She is any man’s dream lover. The fantasy woman to end all fantasies, and at long last, she is his.
    He wants her so badly he can barely think, but at the same time, he wants to draw this night out and make it last forever.
    Cupping her hips in his palms, he lifts her up and she gyrates against his erection.
    “Take off the pants,” she commands. “Now. I want to see you. Touch you. Taste you.”
    At the notion of her tasting his shaft, he almost comes right then and there.
    Control. Hold on to your control.
    But how impossible this wonderful woman was making that task. She was actively licking his chest while he fumbled with the drawstrings of his pants.
    Then he was naked, his pants flung out into the empty cabin, and her fingers—oh, her wicked fingers—were wrapping around his hard cock.
    “I’ve spent my life waiting for you,” she whispers. “Take me, Caleb. Make me your own.”
    “Mail call!” Quinn Scofield’s booming voice, and the loud thumping of his feet on the staircase, yanked Caleb from his X-rated reverie.
    Cricket on a crutch! He’d been fantasizing about his best friend’s baby sister, and now here was Quinn, coming through his front door.
    Caleb tossed the Christmas photograph aside, grabbed the high-powered field binoculars from the