Free Take Me I'm Yours (Coffee House Chronicles) by Michelle Miles Page A

liked his goatee. It was oh-so-sexy. And when he kissed her, his whiskers tickled her face. Mmm .
    How could she forget the way his face scraped against hers as they kissed? She liked the way it felt against her skin. If they kissed for more than thirty seconds, what would it feel like? Would he abrade her, make her raw? And what would it feel like on other places on her? She flushed.
    T hinking about it made the dark recesses of her body respond. She stretched her arms over her head and arched her back remembering his incredibly soft hands, his elongated fingers, the perfectly trimmed nails.
    Her hand slid down, over her breasts pausing to squeeze their softness. Her nipples peaked, turning into hard pebbles that begged for more. She pinched first one then the other. Desire and need coiled in her lower abdomen, her core suddenly damp. She kicked away the blankets, looking down the length of her naked body.
    When she returned home the previous night, she needed more. She had stripped, leaving her clothes in a pile, and slid between the cool sheets. It wasn’t often she slept in the nude, but last night she had to. She had to touch herself to ecstasies until she came and came and came. It still wasn’t enough. It would never be enough until she was with Graeme. Until his bare skin was sliding against hers. Until he buried deep insider her.
    She needed more.
    Her hands moved lower over her sharp hip bones as she thought only of Graeme. Her legs fell apart with her knees slightly bent as her fingers slipped over the coarse hair and parted her lips. Her fingertips dipped into her warm dampness, making slow deliberate swirls, barely grazing her skin and igniting the fire deep inside her. And even that wasn’t enough.
    Like any single gal, she had her private stash of B.O.B.s—battery operated boyfriends. She’d put them to good use over the last few months since she hadn’t been with anyone. She reached for her nightstand drawer and found the small vibrator that fit over her fingertip. Flicking it on, she returned her hand back to her clit.
    Her heart pounded as her vibrating finger rocked back and forth over her swollen nub. The dampness increased, her excitement escalated. Visions of Graeme and that glorious tongue of his danced through her mind, making her want his mouth on her there as she neared climax. Her body ached for more, wanting to feel his hard length sliding in and out of her, wanting to touch him. To have him touch her. She imagined Graeme’s lovemaking would be slow and deliberate. It would be nothing like Ethan, whose selfish love play left her wanting.
    With her eyes closed , she tossed away the toy and slipped two fingers inside. Her body contracted instantly. She pressed her hand against her sex, rolling her hips as her orgasm burst through her and she cried out.
    With her chest heaving from the exertion, she stared at the ceiling and wished Graeme was lying beside her. Wishing he had been the one to make her come. It had been so long since she’d felt the touch of a man. The only one she really wanted was him.
    Her ringing phone broke into her dreamy state and she jumped, her nerves raw. She yanked the sheet over her nakedness, as if the person on the other end of the phone would know what she was up to. She snatched it up with a gruff hello.
    “Did I wake you?” It was Delilah on the other end.
    “No. I was just…lying here.” Wishing there was a man in my bed.
    “How’d it go last night? Did you behave?”
    “Yes, Mom .” Marion rolled her eyes. “I was a good girl and it went fine. Graeme loved your fricassee, by the way.”
    “Great! And…?” Delilah prompted.
    “And nothing. We had a nice dinner together and then he took me to the coffee house for dessert.”
    “Mar, you’re not telling me something. You slept with him, didn’t you?”
    “No!” Marion pushed to a sitting position. She raked a hand through her hair. “I did not. He didn’t even kiss me good night.”
    That was