Secret Nights at Nine Oaks by Amy J. Fetzer Read Free Book Online Page A

devouring him, letting him taste the sweet energy that was Phoebe. He could easily become an addict. This woman had more power over him than he had over himself. Yet he thirsted for her, sliding his tongue between her lips and indulging in a long-awaited feast.
    She arched her body, letting him feel all that she was under the thin cotton, ripe and curved, the plumpness of her breasts burning an imprint into his chest, through layers of cloth. He gripped her slim hips, pulling her to his groin, half crushing her into the downy mattress and still she gave back, bending her knees, wedging him between her thighs.
    The heat of her center seared him.
    They pawed and stroked, each touch growing more intimate, more desperate for the feel of flesh to flesh. He throbbed for completion, to slide into her body and let the sensations explode between them.
    â€œCain, oh my,” she said against his mouth and opened like a flower again for him. “Nothing’s changed, nothing.”
    Suddenly he jerked back, staring down at her, at the confused frown knitting her smooth forehead.
    Everything had changed.
    He wasn’t worthy of this woman. He could not have her as his body demanded and Cain told himself he was stronger than temptation, than his own lust.
    â€œI’m sorry, forgive me.”
    â€œExcuse me?”
    Cain should have had a clue from her tone that something was about to explode in her as Cain slid back, sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
    â€œYou weren’t alone, in case you didn’t notice,” she said, and he saw she was a little breathless.
    Phoebe was very breathless, her body blazing hot, excitement still pouring and pulsing through her although he wasn’t touching her. And she needed to be touched by him, only him as she had wanted nearly a decade ago. Yet he was doing the same thing, backing off, running. Even though he was sitting near her feet, he was already gone.
    â€œLeave, Cain. Get out.”
    He snapped a look at her. It was a mistake. She looked so damn lovely, nestled in the mounds of pillows and embroidered sheets. Her face was flushed and the strap to her top had slid off her shoulder, showing him the roundness of her breasts, teasing him with her rosy beauty.
    â€œYou can’t do this to me again,” she said. “I won’t let you.”
    â€œBe assured—” he stood “—neither will I.”
    Phoebe watched him walk to the door, long legs eating up the distance. He grabbed the knob, flinging it open, then went still. “Forgive me,” he said without looking at her.
    â€œStop apologizing! Thanks for bringing me out of the nightmare. Next time, just leave me alone.”
    Cain felt the knife of her words and didn’t blame her. He’d teased her and himself, dangling passionbetween them, knowing full well it would go nowhere the instant his mouth touched hers. He couldn’t allow this to develop. Nor would he let her suffer through another nightmare if he could help it. He understood their torment—intimately.
    â€œI’ll have the door repaired in the morning.” He gestured to the shattered jamb, then simply stepped out and closed the door behind himself.
    Cain remained outside, stock-still, his body wanting her badly while his mind fought to convince it otherwise. He had no right to have anything with Phoebe. Not when the women he should have loved was dead because of him.
    He headed to his bedroom on the other side of the house, resigned to a night of dreaming of what he could not have and knowing that a dozen rooms separating him from Phoebe truly wouldn’t make a difference.
    Phoebe felt her eyes water and she stared at the closed door for a long moment, half of her wanting to run and lock it, another part of her wishing he’d turn around and come back in.
    And finish what he started.
    Damn him. She curled on her side, punching the pillows,