Forever Spring by Joan Hohl Read Free Book Online
Authors: Joan Hohl
words.
“Karen.”
The low, aching sound of his voice shuddered through her receptive body. Her head moved again, sharply. This couldn’t be happening, not to her! Not with this man! A gasped “Oh” burst from her slightly parted lips, as retaining his grip on her hand, Paul set his glass aside and got up to circle the table to her.
“Paul, don’t.” The whisper was nothing more than a token protest. Karen knew it, and Paul knew it, too.
“I must.” Grasping her arms, he drew her up and into an embrace. “I wanted more this afternoon, Karen,” he said in a tone growing harsh with passion. “I don’t understand it any more than you do. But I need to taste your mouth again. I must have your mouth.” A wildness darkened his eyes as his gaze fell on her trembling lips.
“Paul, this is crazy!” Karen’s weak tone was unconvincing. “We don’t know—” Her voice was lost inside his mouth.
Unlike his earlier, gentle touch, his kiss was at once hard and demanding, and his body was, too. His arms tightened, crushing her soft breasts against the muscled strength of his chest. Frightened by the intensity of the sensations searing through her, Karen struggled against his hold. She went still as his tongue entered her mouth. Her senses reeling, she felt his hands move on her back, one up to her head, fingers tangling in her hair, the other to the base of her spine, fingers splaying over her buttocks. She felt him change position. One leg eased between her thighs and was immediately followed by the other. The pressure stretched the denim material of her skirt, molding it to the most feminine part of her. Cupping his hand, he drew her up and into the shocking heat of his body.
“Paul!” she gasped, tearing her mouth from his. “You must stop!” Karen could feel his heart thumping against her chest, could hear the erratic sound of his harsh breath, could smell the dizzying mixture of sharp after-shave and aroused male. He frightened her; he excited her. She felt as if her insides were melting.
“I know,” he said unsteadily. Drawing deep gulps of air into his lungs, he rested his forehead against hers, but his hand continued to press her body to his. “I feel you trembling,” he said on a roughly expelled breath that teased her lips. “I don’t want to frighten you, Karen. Please believe that.”
“I... I do.” Karen was telling the truth; she did believe him. The strain in his voice convinced her that he was as confused as she was by the intensity of the attraction flaring between them. Held rigidly at her sides, her hands ached with the need to touch him, caress him, hold him. She clenched her fingers in desperation. “Please, let me go.” Karen’s throat felt tight and achy. “I must clear the table.” She was half hoping he’d refuse, and she sighed softly when he complied.
Paul reluctantly slid his hands from her body, then stepped back, a wry smile slanting his lips. “Do you want me to leave?”
“Now, tonight?” Karen exclaimed, her jangled senses clamoring a protest. “There’s a storm building out there!” As if to reinforce her statement, a gust of wind slammed against the house. “Where would you go?” Glancing away from the passion still smoldering in his eyes, Karen stared into the darkness beyond the windows. She didn’t want him to leave, and it required all her control to keep from clutching him to her. She started when his hand caught her chin, turning her to face him.
“You didn’t answer my question, Karen,” he said tightly. “Do you want me to go?”
Unconscious of the implied sensuousness of her act, Karen moistened her dry lips with the tip of her tongue, shivering at the naked hunger revealed in his eyes as he watched her. Thrown off balance by the intensity of her response to him, she jerked around and began clattering dishes and utensils as she gathered them together.
“Answer me!”
The sharpness of his tone lashed at her, and with a muffled sob,
“Karen.”
The low, aching sound of his voice shuddered through her receptive body. Her head moved again, sharply. This couldn’t be happening, not to her! Not with this man! A gasped “Oh” burst from her slightly parted lips, as retaining his grip on her hand, Paul set his glass aside and got up to circle the table to her.
“Paul, don’t.” The whisper was nothing more than a token protest. Karen knew it, and Paul knew it, too.
“I must.” Grasping her arms, he drew her up and into an embrace. “I wanted more this afternoon, Karen,” he said in a tone growing harsh with passion. “I don’t understand it any more than you do. But I need to taste your mouth again. I must have your mouth.” A wildness darkened his eyes as his gaze fell on her trembling lips.
“Paul, this is crazy!” Karen’s weak tone was unconvincing. “We don’t know—” Her voice was lost inside his mouth.
Unlike his earlier, gentle touch, his kiss was at once hard and demanding, and his body was, too. His arms tightened, crushing her soft breasts against the muscled strength of his chest. Frightened by the intensity of the sensations searing through her, Karen struggled against his hold. She went still as his tongue entered her mouth. Her senses reeling, she felt his hands move on her back, one up to her head, fingers tangling in her hair, the other to the base of her spine, fingers splaying over her buttocks. She felt him change position. One leg eased between her thighs and was immediately followed by the other. The pressure stretched the denim material of her skirt, molding it to the most feminine part of her. Cupping his hand, he drew her up and into the shocking heat of his body.
“Paul!” she gasped, tearing her mouth from his. “You must stop!” Karen could feel his heart thumping against her chest, could hear the erratic sound of his harsh breath, could smell the dizzying mixture of sharp after-shave and aroused male. He frightened her; he excited her. She felt as if her insides were melting.
“I know,” he said unsteadily. Drawing deep gulps of air into his lungs, he rested his forehead against hers, but his hand continued to press her body to his. “I feel you trembling,” he said on a roughly expelled breath that teased her lips. “I don’t want to frighten you, Karen. Please believe that.”
“I... I do.” Karen was telling the truth; she did believe him. The strain in his voice convinced her that he was as confused as she was by the intensity of the attraction flaring between them. Held rigidly at her sides, her hands ached with the need to touch him, caress him, hold him. She clenched her fingers in desperation. “Please, let me go.” Karen’s throat felt tight and achy. “I must clear the table.” She was half hoping he’d refuse, and she sighed softly when he complied.
Paul reluctantly slid his hands from her body, then stepped back, a wry smile slanting his lips. “Do you want me to leave?”
“Now, tonight?” Karen exclaimed, her jangled senses clamoring a protest. “There’s a storm building out there!” As if to reinforce her statement, a gust of wind slammed against the house. “Where would you go?” Glancing away from the passion still smoldering in his eyes, Karen stared into the darkness beyond the windows. She didn’t want him to leave, and it required all her control to keep from clutching him to her. She started when his hand caught her chin, turning her to face him.
“You didn’t answer my question, Karen,” he said tightly. “Do you want me to go?”
Unconscious of the implied sensuousness of her act, Karen moistened her dry lips with the tip of her tongue, shivering at the naked hunger revealed in his eyes as he watched her. Thrown off balance by the intensity of her response to him, she jerked around and began clattering dishes and utensils as she gathered them together.
“Answer me!”
The sharpness of his tone lashed at her, and with a muffled sob,