Free Love Me Tonight by Gwynne Forster Page A

“Please don’t ask me questions like that if you want a truthful answer.”
    He stared at her as if she’d surprised him. “You don’t want me to leave?”
    That was a loaded question, and they both knew it. She shot from the hip. “Of course not. It’s early. That doesn’t mean I want you to spend the night, but I am enjoying your company. I know you want to find the answer to this…this mystery as soon as you can. So it’s okay,” she said with a laugh.
    Throughout her answer, she’d had his rapt attention. “Kiss me good-night, and let me get out of here.”
    As she walked toward him, she knew he was trying to read the expression on her face. With her hands on his shoulders, she asked him, “What degree of heat do you want?”
    His gaze didn’t betray his feelings. But she got his message when he said, “Play with me, will you? I’llgive you heat.” His arms tightened around her, and his fingers dented the curve of her breasts. He enveloped her, and with one hand on her buttocks and the other at the back of her head, he shoved his tongue into her mouth. Though she fought for it, he dipped in and out telling her what he wanted to do to her. Then he lifted her until they were chest to breast and belly to belly. She couldn’t get enough of him. Heat plowed through her, and she could feel drops of moisture in the valley between her aching breasts. He let the wall take his weight and, still holding her buttocks, he stroked her left breast with the other hand until she began to undulate against him. His tongue darted around in her mouth, and his hand stroked her breast. Warm moisture dampened her, and she moaned in frustration and pressed his hand against her breast. He put his hand inside the bodice of her dress, released her breast and bent to it.
    She held her breath, until his warm tongue touched her nipple. “Stop playing with me. I want to feel your mouth on me.”
    He sucked the nipple into his mouth, and she let out a cry and pressed his head to increase the pressure. When she bucked against him, simulating the dance of love, he stopped her and looked in her eyes.
    â€œYou didn’t intend for it to go this far, and I’m not sure I did, but if I don’t leave here now, I’ll take you to bed.”
    â€œI started it, but I’m not sorry about this, Judson, and don’t you be. There’ll be another time. Get home safely.”
    â€œI’ll call you later. Good night, sweetheart.”
    She closed the door and locked it. Deep in thought, she walked to the living room and dropped herself into a chair. She was falling for Judson Philips. I’ve known him less than two months. I’m too well-educated, too old and too experienced. This is crazy!
    Â 
    Judson wanted Heather to believe that he cared for her, but he did not want her to realize the power she had over him. Not yet. He’d jerked away from her seconds before his powerful erection would have given her evidence of it. He didn’t believe in playing games with a woman. But he didn’t think it wise at present to show his hand.
    He walked into his house and didn’t pause until he got to his mother’s bedroom. She loved to read, so he started with her bookcase and opened each book hoping to find a note, a letter or the directions to something else. Lost in his search, he hardly heard the wind shaking the window. When it became louder, he went to the window, looked out and saw that the sky was still clear, and the full moon shone brightly. Deciding that a storm was not imminent, he resumed his search, but immediately the rattling commenced again. He went to the window to secure the latch, braced his left hand against the heavy valance that hung across the top of the window and jerked it back.
    He felt something. He turned up the hem of the valance and saw a small, letter-size envelope secured to the valance with a safety pin.