Free In Love and War by Tara Mills Page B

careful tongue.
    Ariela’s lashes dropped closed, though she never stopped brushing through his hair. Slowly, steadily, Dylan brought warmth back to her body. Every lap, every flick, and every thrust of his tongue intensified the heat spreading through her. The hand that had stroked his head just minutes ago now gripped him by the hair. No way was she letting him go now. He shifted to slide a finger inside her, and she groaned with relief. When he added another and latched onto her clit, her hips started moving in harmony with his hand. Her climax hit her hard and fast, but it wasn’t enough, not nearly enough.
    “Now—please , I can’t wait,” she cried.
    Her urgency was so great she didn’t allow him time to kick out of his pants before he pressed into her. Ariela’s muscles went weak with incalculable grat itude.
    “Yes,” she said with a low moan.
    Ariela rose to meet his kiss, their lips and loins fused. Being joined with Dylan was a shocking revelation, unlike anything she’d encountered—intimate, certainly; intense, no argument, but an overall sense of completion? It was as if he were returning a missing piece of her body. She gripped his sex, holding him possessively, reluctant to deal with the profound emptiness again. How had knowledge of that emptiness escaped her for so long? Ariela clung to him, reveling in how whole she felt in his arms.
    “Where are you Ariela?” he whispered, brushing her face with the back of his fingers. The tenderness in his eyes, his question, penetrated her heart just as surely as his body did.
    “Wherever you are,” she answered, shifting to wring everything she could out of his drives.
    Then he stiffened over her, and not in a good way, his movements suspended.
    “ Dylan?” Squeezing his arms, she turned and followed his gaze. To her horror, Jean and Rob were standing in the open door staring at them, mouths hanging open in shock.
    Ariela scream ed and Dylan dropped on top of her, using his body to shield her from view. “Give us a minute, all right?” he ground out, his frustration clear.
    The door slammed closed. They could hear hard footsteps beating a rapid retreat down the back stairs.
    “Talk about stupid.” Ariela groaned and clutched her forehead. “We should have gone to my room. I can’t believe this. How embarrassing.”
    Dylan exhaled against her shoulder and raked his hair back. They were still intimately connected, but the mood was over. He’d just had what amounted to a bucket of ice water thrown on him.
    “I’m sorry,” she whispered, seeking his eyes.
    “Why are you sorry?” he asked, meeting them.
    “They ruined your big finish.” She gave his cheek a sympathetic caress.
    “ I'll survive.” Then he muttered, “I can’t believe I didn’t hear them.”
    “I didn’t hear them, either.”
    Dylan gave her a kiss then withdrew and stood up. He took a second to sort out his pants and tuck himself in before reaching down to pull Ariela to her feet.
    “How much time before they come back?” he asked , glancing at the door.
    “I bet they’ll stay away for a while now. It ’s been so long since I had to think about hanging a tie on the door, I completely forgot to do it.”
    “Is that your signal?”
    “Since college.” She sighed and flapped her arms helplessly at her sides. “Excuse me.”
    Ariela went into her room. When she returned she was wearing her sky blue bathrobe.
    “So, does this break your six month celibacy streak or not?” She tried to suppress her little smile, but it was no good.
    Dylan looked up from buttoning his shirt and chuckled. “I think I broke up with myself tonight. What can I say? The relationship had grown stale and predictable. The passion just wasn’t there anymore.”
    Ariela laughed softly. “Will I see you tomorrow?”
    His face fell. “I wish, but I don’t think I can swing it. I have to drop in on my grandma for a visit with Max in the morning, after my jog. By the time we finally get home,