Free Heaven Can't Wait by Pamela Clare

close, just inches away, hard and thick. She bit her lower lip, felt her inner muscles contract as she imagined how it would feel to have him inside her—the sweet stretch, the slippery friction, the velvet-steel stroke. Oh, God, she wanted him, was more than ready to take him.
    One more touch, just one more, and she’d give in.
    He stood, pulled her to her feet and toward her closet, then jerked a periwinkle silk dress off its hanger. “Put this on.”
    She bit back a disappointed groan, did as he asked, turning so he could zip her, her body thrumming with desire so intense it felt like torture.
    He closed it with a jerk. “Have a good day at the paper. The coaches have some private time scheduled for the team today, so I’ll probably be home early.”
    Then he kissed her on the cheek and walked off toward the shower looking like some kind of pagan god, bare-ass naked and still erect.
     
    Lissy found it hard to concentrate at work. The rasp of lace against her thigh, the pinch of stays, the caress of silk against her bare bottom reminded her constantly of what Will had done this morning. Her body seemed to be in a state of constant arousal—hypersensitive, tense, burning. She’d been a single heartbeat from losing the bet. If he had pushed her any harder…
    She was in trouble. How could she go home to him tonight when she was already wet and aching for him? How could she face him again when one touch was going to drive her over the edge? How could she possibly counter his latest strategy?
    She needed help.
    She cornered Holly at lunchtime and practically begged her to come over. “We’ll rent any DVD you want to watch, and I’ll buy your favorite ice cream. All you have to do is be there.”
    Holly gave her a knowing smile. “He’s really gotten to you, hasn’t he?”
    “Oh, God, you have no idea!”
    “I wish I could help, Lissy, truly, I do. But it’s Friday night. I have a date. I hope to be getting laid myself.”
    Of course. Holly always had a date. Why hadn’t Lissy thought of that?
    Next she tried Sophie, but Sophie also had plans.
    “I’m going to a movie with my brother—nothing exciting. Sorry, Lissy.”
    Lissy found Tessa at her desk, poring over police reports and sipping a designer latté. She explained her situation and pleaded for Tessa’s help. “Please say you don’t have a date.”
    “Me? Have a date? You must be joking. Sure, I’ll come over.”
     
    Will was already home when they got there. Lissy parked next to his pickup, waited in the oppressive dry heat for Tessa to stow her car in visitor parking, then guided her through the Cone Zone, which seemed to have grown since this morning.
    “What are they doing here? Prospecting for gold?” Tessa’s southern deb accent had a way of making everything she said sound charming.
    “I think the flyers they posted said something about working on the gas main.”
    Desperate to get out of the corset and stockings, Lissy hurried up the steps, unlocked the door and walked into refreshing coolness—and the delicious garlicky smell of Will’s lasagna.
    “I’ve always said the person who invented air conditioning should get the Nobel prize,” Tessa said. “Mmm, what’s that I smell?”
    “Will’s lasagna.” So that had been his plan. A little homemade lasagna, probably some red wine and maybe some Italian ice. She’d have been toast. She set her briefcase aside. “Make yourself at home in the living room. What can I get you to drink?”
    “Southern sweet tea if you’ve got it. Yankee iced tea if you don’t.”
    “How about Yankee tea with lots of sugar in it?”
    “Sounds lovely.” Tessa wandered off to the living room.
    Lissy went into the kitchen expecting to find Will slaving over the stove. Instead she found a sink full of dishes. Then she saw the purple orchids. They sat on the table in a crystal vase. Tucked among the glossy green leaves was a card that read only, “For my bride.”
    She was admiring the delicate