Forty Candles by Virginia Nelson Read Free Book Online Page A

planes of his big body. As if he knew her better than she did, he soon had her trembling, crying out, trying to flip to reach him but he didn’t allow it.
    The first orgasm razed over her sensitized nerves like a forest fire, raked by high winds. Only leaving her hungrier before his hands again sought the next series of touches, strokes, and rubs to make her scream out his name.
    He took nothing for himself, giving her release and breathing hard in her ear, as she moved to the rhythm of his magical hands. Replete, body sated, she panted off the sensations, eyes closed against the reality of the room.
    Somehow, she’d wound up naked in the rumpled bed. He still lay behind her, fully dressed, fully aroused, but not taking what she offered. “Feel any better?” The growl of his words made her shiver.
    “You didn’t—I mean…”
    “Nope. When I make love to you again, Chloe Sabatina, it’s not going to be to help you forget. It’ll be to help you remember.”
    Sitting up, she pulled the sheet around her nakedness to walk away from him. “Don’t give this more meaning than what it deserved. And quit with the Yoda bullshit. You know I hate it when you act all sage. The wise redneck.” She snorted in derision, hiding her desire to curl into him, to lie in his arms until she found her spine again.
    He stretched, looking hot as hell in his faded tee shirt and worn jeans on her flowered comforter. “See, that’s why we didn’t have sex.”
    Blushing, and feeling exposed, she dropped the sheet and yanked on clothes. “Jack, I’m having sort of a shitty day.”
    The knock at the front door startled her. Dropping the shirt she was about to tug on, she spun. “I’ll get it. Put your shirt on. We’ll talk about it.”
    Striding out of the room, and looking entirely too comfortable for her peace of mind, Jack vanished around the corner.
    Great. Husband leaves, I practically have sex with my ex-boyfriend, and now someone’s at the door just in time to see me looking like I just crawled out of bed.
    Today rocks.
    Breathing hard, and unreasonably filled with a sense of impending doom—what worse could happen?—Chloe followed Jack’s path to the door. His body blocked her view of the visitor and she couldn’t tell, at first, what they were saying.
    Then a shift of Jack’s shoulders allowed her a glimpse of the state highway patrolman. The officer looked at her, asked her name, but all she really heard him say was one word.
    “Dead.”
    It solidified out of the quiet conversation and she gripped the wall. Jack closed the door with a soft click and didn’t turn around. “Jack?” He would tell her it wasn’t what she thought. His face, when he turned, told her more than she wanted to know. “No.” As if she could make it not true by denying it.
    “He died, Chloe. In a wreck.” Jack looked stunned, as if he wasn’t sure what to do, which was weird because Jack always seemed to know what to do. It had to be bad, had to be real, if Jack looked like that.
    She shook her head. “He was just here. A little while ago. He was just here.”
    Again, she found herself in Jack’s arms, but this time her body seemed washed in ice, numb, unable to take the comfort he offered. “It was fast, Chloe. He didn’t suffer.”
    “Why do people say that? Is it supposed to make it okay?” Pushing away from him, she headed to the kitchen. This was all some weird nightmare. She’d wake up tomorrow and tell Gary about it.
    Well, except for the sexual bits with Jack. Those she might not tell anyone about.
    “Chloe, talk to me.”
    Pouring a shot of whiskey, she swallowed it, reveling in the burn.
    Dead.
    Gary couldn’t be dead. Closing her eyes, she found she’d cried herself dry. Pouring another shot, she slung it back, still not answering Jack. Three shots in, the blur in her mind began, rivaled by the burn in her throat and the churning of her stomach.
    Facing her best guy pal, she made a decision. “We tell no one he wanted