Free Baby, Come Back by Erica Spindler Page A

aware of the feel of him, hard and strong and male.
    Her hurt and despair lessened, then disappeared altogether. Awareness replaced them.
    She pressed her face into the crook of his neck, breathing deeply. His five o’clock shadow was rough against her cheek; his skin was warm and smelled of soap and sweat.
    She squeezed her eyes shut. She’d missed this— him— so much. She’d missed his arms, his touch. She had missed the way his arms had made her feel— desired and womanly, safe.
    No other man had been able to make her feel the same way. No man ever would. She’d finally stopped looking.
    Alice tipped her head back and met his eyes. In them she saw her awareness mirrored back at her. A shudder moved over her, and she pressed her hands against his chest. “This is a mistake. We both know it.”
    â€œYes,” he murmured, tightening his arms around her, his voice thick. “A mistake.”
    She slid her hands to his shoulders and tipped her face more fully to his. “I should go.”
    â€œYes,” he murmured again, lowering his mouth. “Go. Now.”
    She ordered herself to do just that; she parted her lips instead. He caught her mouth, then her tongue. She made a sound of pleasure deep in her throat, and the car keys slipped from her fingers.
    He tasted familiar, she thought dizzily. Smelled familiar. Rich and male. She recognized the way he moved his mouth against hers. The way he flattened his hands against her lower back and held her to him. Firmly. Possessively.
    She wound her fingers in his hair, urging him to deepen the kiss. To take more. To bring her closer. Kissing Hayes felt like coming home.
    With a muffled oath, Hayes pulled away. He met her eyes, his dark with arousal, his expression stunned. She parted her lips to speak; before she could, he lowered his mouth once more, capturing hers.
    This time he plundered. Demanded. This time he took her mouth with a fury born of years of denial. She answered his passion with her own. Standing on tiptoes, she pressed herself against him, digging her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, straining against him.
    She felt his arousal in the way he held her, the way he plunged his fingers into her hair, cupping the back of her head to anchor her to him. She felt it in the way he rasped her name, as if it came from a dark and desperate place inside him, in the way he greedily devoured her lips.
    Alice made a sound of pleasure deep in her throat, reveling in the knowledge of how strongly she affected him. He affected her just as strongly. For as close as they were, she wanted him closer still. She wanted his hands on her, wanted his naked flesh pressed to hers.
    When had awareness become arousal, overpowering and insistent? When had she decided to give herself to Hayes, body and soul? Twelve years ago, she thought dizzily. In all that time, nothing had changed. She still wanted him with a ferocity that stole her good sense, her ability to reason, everything but her desire to be with him.
    Hayes tore his mouth from hers, breathing hard. She saw the regret in his eyes. The apology. Shame hit her in a wave. As did hurt. Once again, she had opened the door for Hayes to hurt her.
    Furious, with herself, with him, she struggled against his grasp. He tightened his arms, and she swore. “Let me go, Hayes. Damn you, let me go.”
    â€œYou never lacked, Alice,” he said fiercely. “Never. Letting you go was hell, but it was for the best.”
    She stopped struggling and stared at him, stunned. He was convincing her. Trying to make her “see” so she wouldn’t be angry. She jerked out of his arms. “You bastard. You didn’t come here tonight to talk about Sheri and Jeff, did you?”
    â€œNo.”
    She balled her hands into fists on his chest. “You couldn’t leave it alone, could you? You can’t stand for anyone to have a different opinion than yours.”
    â€œThat’s