Free Surrender to the Fury by Connie Mason Page B

let her. She let out another shuddering groan. His naked flesh against hers was hot—so hot. He scalded her with his passion, fueling her own. His fingers rubbed the nub hidden between the tender folds of pink flesh until she was slick with moisture. His finger slowly eased up inside her, and she moved her hips in response
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    Aimee jerked upright in bed. She was drenched in sweat, and her thrashing had caused her nightgown to slide up around her waist. Caught in the throes of the same erotic dream that had plagued her both night and day since Nick Drummond had ridden into her life, she pounded the pillow infrustration. Why? she asked herself in a fit of fury. Why did she have to relive those hours in his bed as if they had happened yesterday? Why did every lurid detail resurface after all these years to haunt her? Her body still tingled as if his hands and mouth had actually taken possession of her.
    She had merely paid a debt five years ago, nothing more, Aimee tried to tell herself. Nick knew what he wanted from her even before that fateful draw of the cards. He had made his need perfectly clear. And she had accepted his challenge, knowing full well what he expected if she lost. But she had been so confident she’d win, so absolutely convinced, that she was stunned when Nick had drawn the high card. What followed was like a sequence in a dream. Then the rogue had left, making her feel like a common whore—left her with his child in her belly.
    Now he was here at Tall Oaks, taunting her with his presence, making it clear as glass that he still wanted her, driving her crazy with his mocking smile and his kisses. And she had committed herself to spying on him. She had only a short time left before her meeting with Garson Pinder, and she still hadn’t found the opportunity to read the dispatch that arrived for Nick. Savannah watched her like a hawk, afraid that she’d get into serious trouble with the Yank if she was caught in Nick’s room searching his belongings. Aimee had mentioned nothing to Savannah about her meeting with Gar, thinking that the less Savannah knew about Gar’s visit, the better off they’d both be.
    Perhaps her chance would come today, Aimee reflected as she flopped over on her stomach. It was still too early to arise, but she was no longerinterested in sleep. Somehow she had to get into Nick’s room without being seen and obtain the information Gar requested.
    Nick had awakened early. Too early to start the day but certainly not too early to slip into that semiconscious world where reality and dreams collided.
    He wanted to be inside her so badly, he ached. His finger slipped inside her. She was hot—so hot. And wet. More than ready for him. She cried out. He told her he adored the way she responded to him, how desperately he wanted to thrust inside her in the same way his fingers were doing. How very much he needed to feel her tighten around him when she reached her pinnacle. He wanted her to forget her other lovers while she was in his arms. Then he was pushing inside her, stretching her, filling her. She stiffened and groaned and he pushed all the way inside her. She was tight, so damn tight he lost control of his senses, so consumed with passion, he knew nothing but the need to stroke them both to completion
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    Nick groaned, reliving that incredible moment as if it were happening now. He had been awestruck by the wondrous heat of her, the tightness of her sheath. He remembered telling her she was as tight as a virgin, and laughing over that absurd observation. Then he flexed his hips, thrust forward, and embedded himself fully.
    And thereby earned Aimee’s undying hatred.
    Yet if he had had it all to live over again, he knew he would have done nothing differently. The only part he would have changed was leaving her and letting Beauregard Trevor into her life. He should have caught another train for Chicago and stayed long enough to learn where he could findher when he returned. If he had,