Death Takes a Holiday Read Online Free PDF Page B

the pink comforter up to my chin and sigh. How sad is life when sleeping is the highlight of your day?
    My ticket is booked, my suitcases packed, and all that’s left is to ask George for the time off. Backwards, I know, but I’m sure he’ll say yes. If he doesn’t, well, there’s always men’s Kryptonite: tears. Now I just have to—
    Someone knocks lightly on my door. Great. Can’t get a moment’s peace. There is no way I’m leaving my cloud, so I say, “Come in.”
    The light from the hallway frames his large body and reflects his shirtless torso. Toned with abundant pectorals and a hint of abs smattered with dark chest hair just the way I like it. How many times have I fantasized about trailing my finger down that straight line starting from the bellybutton down? The thought makes me quiver.
    “Will?” I say as he steps in, shutting the door behind himself. The only light now comes from the brilliant, almost ethereal moon radiating through my window.
    “I’m sorry,” he says desperately as he rushes over to me. “I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”
    “What—”
    Those rough hands embrace the sides of my face, pulling me toward him. Warm lips meet mine, mashing so hard they hit teeth. At first I’m too stunned to move, but that changes fast. I kiss him back with the same ferocity. Months of longing. Months of fighting when all I wanted to do was this. Passion driving both. His tongue breaks the seal of my lips, finding mine. My body arches into his as we grip each other for dear life. He’s hot, like a tropical beach at noon. He tastes just as divine. Of peppermint, beer, and man. My fingers fan out in his soft hair, close to yanking it. Our lips continue to move in unison as if dancing while our tongues explore. I lower him on top of me, his hard body pinning me to the bed. Through his jeans I feel his erection grow. The bulge presses into my thigh. Me. I did that to him. Amazing. All that doubting, of second guessing myself. The proof of what I knew is right against me, and God do I want it inside me.
    We break apart as he yanks off my top, exposing my bare breasts, my nipples hardening against the cool air. His mouth lowers as he grips my back, pulling one greedily into his mouth. I haven’t had sex in two years. I almost come as he nibbles and kisses that sensitive area. I don’t even care that I might explode his brain, I just don’t want this ecstasy to end. He moves to the other side, doing the same thing to my left nipple while caressing the spot he just abandoned. I run my fingernails down his back almost hard enough to draw blood. We moan in sync. He stops and gazes up at me, eyes hungry and wild. Like mine.
    He’s wanted this too. As badly as I have. Probably from the first moment he saw me. This revelation almost drives me over the edge. “I—” he says in a low voice. I kiss him forcefully, rolling us to the center of the bed with me on top, straddling him.
    “Shut up,” I say before undoing his jeans and yanking them down as he watches in awe. He knew what he wanted and dressed accordingly. No boxers. Only him. Long, wide, and ready for me. I trail my finger down his hard chest to the end of him. He shudders under my touch, and then my tongue as I play with him. I bring him to the brink but pull back at the last moment.
    “Don’t stop,” he groans in equal amounts of pain and pleasure.
    “You don’t get off that easy,” I say, voice husky. I take his hand in mine, sucking on two fingers, caressing them with my tongue. I scoot up so I’m hovering just above his chest, move his hand under my pajama bottoms, then gouge his fingers into my throbbing, burning center. I groan as he explores me. I move against those rough fingers. He toys until he finds that sweet spot most men never do. I cry out again, gripping the comforter. After a few seconds his fingers leave me as he clutches my wrists and flips me below him on my back. His erection presses into me, the only thing