Free Once Upon A Killing (A Gass County Novel Book 2) by Isabell Lawless Page A

down, what looked like a well-worn AC/DC shirt crept up a hint to reveal some skin on his lower back, and out of the blue her fingers wanted to dance across the pale skin. Or her mouth, to taste what his body would feel like against her lips.
    His fingers adeptly cleaned up everything from lip gloss to tampons, then hung the purse on the hook next to their jackets, and pushed his hands into those pockets once more. A movement that made her eyes travel south as well, and set where she imagined the top of his finger tips would be. Where she wished her hands could set.
    “So, what made you come over here in the middle of the night?” she asked, staring down at the floor. “You could have waited until tomorrow, just a few more hours.”
The floor boards gave a low creek as his boots moved across them, closing the distance between. Pockets that had just recently been filled with his hands gaped empty and those hands settled around her hips, causing her lungs to inhale a shallow breath steadying herself for all that he was: his masculine scent, tall posture, and unruly hair. The fact that he had driven the whole way over in the middle of the night to see her only added fuel to the fire burning within her.
    Avoiding an answer, he bent his head slowly and touched his lips to hers. The way his stubble scratched the delicate skin around her mouth further enlightened the blaze within. Suddenly she felt awake, fully alive, and she grabbed the back of his neck with both hands and forced his mouth deeper onto hers, feeding off of him, and pressed her body tightly into his until she felt him stumble over shoes scattered across the floor. His back slammed hard enough against the wall to make the frame holding a long lost canine companion come off its metal fastenings and fall with a crash to the floor.
    She could have climbed him like a tree. Her body certainly wanted to. The apex of her thighs found his muscular thigh underneath his pants and in rhythm with their tongues she grinded her pussy against the coarse fabric until the feeling of his jeans disintegrated and her wetness made his pants warm and smooth, similar to her wash cloth hanging on the side of the bathtub upstairs.
    Tonight Wayne’s rough fabric was a godsend, and with the pressure he was using, pushing back against her, only made everything feel so much better.
    “God, you’re amazing. And gorgeous,” he whispered, grabbing her butt and pushing her harder onto his thigh, making sure she knew he understood what made her feel so good.
    Her hand found its way from his neck down his chest to his zipper and with a steady hand she grabbed him, felt him, teased him through his jeans as a thank you for his compliments.
    His hands were not any slower, as they followed with the same interest. One unzipped his pants then placed her hand on his cock sticking out of his boxers, the other found its way inside her panties until two fingers slid through her wetness then disappeared deep inside her. She moaned into his mouth and pressed herself even harder onto his hand.
    There they were, pressed against the wall in the dimness of her hallway, way past midnight, with only the antique lamp standing on the entryway table, lighting up the corner of the room. The light shone on them in their corner of the world, Wayne’s pants pushed down mid-thigh, and Christine riding his fingers like they were the lightning rod she needed to survive. The elixir to life sat in his hand.
    “You’re so wonderfully wet. God,” his words mumbled between kisses. “But you should know,” he inhaled and broke them apart, “I’m about to come if we don’t stop this.”
    “Damn it.”
    “I’m sorry,” his chuckle birthed goose bumps on her skin. “It’s a compliment, I assure you. You, brazen, pushing me against the wall, wanting me. Every man’s dream.“
    The moment his fingers left her she felt cold, empty even. Shuttering, attempting to pull her skimpy negligee further down her bare thighs,