Free Make Me Forget by Beth Kery Page A

you forget, Harper. You can help me forget some things, too. Maybe
that’s
why you came back.”
    He honestly wasn’t sure if it was just bold, wishful thinking on his part, or an accurate guess at Harper’s intent. He didn’t have his true answer until he held out his hand, and she slowly walked toward him as if in a trance.
    * * *
    She was out of her mind. She knew it, but it didn’t stop her from walking toward the naked, moonlit form of Jacob Latimer. Nor did it halt her from lifting her hand to meet his.
    His fingers felt long and warm and wet enfolding her. The shower water must have been hot. She had the electrifying thought that he grasped her with the same hand that had pumped his cock so furiously a moment ago. A tremor of mixed arousal, anxiety, and amazement went through her. She touched his damp face, moved by something she sensed in him.
    “Why are you so . . .”
    “What?”
    She blinked at his tense query.
Sad. Intense. Lonely?
She thought those things, but she didn’t say them. How could she, when he was practically a stranger to her? Those weren’t things someone thought about a stranger, let alone said.
    He doesn’t
seem
like a stranger. Mysterious, exciting, forbidden . . . yes. But
not
a stranger.
She shook her head, bewildered.
    “Shhh,” he murmured, obviously feeling her shudder. He pulled her against him, his arms surrounding her. His heavy cockhead bumped against her belly, but he pulled her closer still. It slid up further against her stomach, the rigid column of the shaft sandwiched between them. His flesh steamed into her. He was so hard. So large. Everywhere. She pressed her lips against a damp, dense pectoral muscle. Without telling herself to do so, she slicked her tongue against his warm skin, gathering water droplets. He grunted softly and clasped the back of her head, his fingers burrowing into her upswept hair.
    “That’s right. Put your mouth on me,” he whispered darkly from above her.
    She encircled his waist with her arms and licked him again.
    “Come here,” he said, and he sounded almost angry he was so tense. So primed. His hands cupped her chin from below, and he was lifting her for his consumption. His mouth covered hers, and she felt that rush of heat she’d felt earlier from his kiss. He must have felt that spike of electrical excitement, too, because his cock jumped between them.
    He held her in place while his tongue pierced and stroked and discovered her. He drank from her with a fierce focus. Harper moaned shakily as she reciprocated, overwhelmed with flooding lust. She shivered and pressed closer to his heat. How could a man possibly taste so good?
    “God, you taste good,” he muttered against her upturned mouth a moment later, and she wondered dazedly if he’d read her mind. He plucked at her lips. “I’m going to taste you everywhere.” Another shiver tore through her at his grim promise. One of his hands coasted down her spine, amplifying her quaking. “But right now, you’re cold. We should warm you up.”
    “I’m not cold,” she insisted, craning her neck to pluck at his firm mouth with her lips. How could she possibly be cold, standing next to him?
    “Yes, you are,” he growled, because she’d just gently scraped at his succulent lower lip with her teeth. He accepted her challenge, dipping his head and piercing her mouth again with his tongue. His kiss was firm. Forceful. Addictive. Their tongues tangled, and another shudder of purest arousal went through her. He broke their kiss and began to lift her shirt.
    “I’m getting you wet. It’s chilly out. Let’s get under the shower. It’s nice and hot.”
    He drew her long-sleeved cotton shirt over her head and tossed it to a dry part of the stone terrace.
    “But will anyone see—”
    “No,” he cut her off. She looked up at his absolute answer. His face was shadowed as he looked down at her. His hands were at her back. Her bra snapped open. He stepped away from her slightly.