One Last Weekend Read Online Free PDF

please—”
    â€œNot yet,” he told her.
    She began to buck against his hand, desperate for release.
    â€œ Please— ”
    â€œToo soon,” he said, taking most of her right breast into his mouth, then pulling back to tease her with his tongue.
    â€œ Teague —”
    â€œShh.” He worked his fingers faster inside her, then slowed.
    She rode his hand, felt his palm making slow circles against her clitoris even as his fingers worked her G-spot.
    And she shattered, broke apart into a million flaming pieces.
    It was over, then, she thought. Over so soon.
    But it wasn’t over.
    Teague shifted, opened his jeans, and she felt him, hard and hot, ready to take her.
    She sagged against him, her body still convulsing with soft climaxes.
    He eased into her, but the size of him made her draw in a sharp breath and push back from his chest, beginning another ascent even as she trembled with the last sweet, sharp climax.
    There was a difference, though. Joanna was in control now, even as she climbed inexorably toward another orgasm, one she knew would be brutal in its sheer force.
    Gripping Teague’s bare shoulders, she straightened so she could watch his face change in the dying light of the fire. Slowly, he raised and lowered his powerful hips in long, deep strokes, determined to set the pace.
    Joanna took over.
    She moved faster along his length, took him deeper, twisted her torso slightly every time his shaft was sheathed inside her.
    He groaned, tried to slow her pace with his hands, but Joanna would not be turned from her purpose. She pumped harder, faster, deeper, with a primitive grace that soon had Teague pleading, just as she had earlier.
    â€œJoanna,” he rasped, the muscles of his neck cording as he threw back his head, beginning to lose control. “ Joanna —”
    She rode him ruthlessly.
    He came with a low shout and a stiffening of his whole body, nearly throwing her off with the upward thrust of his hips. She felt his warmth spilling into her and savored his unqualified surrender.
    I love you, she almost said.
    He settled slowly back into himself, his breathing still quick and shallow, his chest and thighs damp with sweat against her own slick skin. He pulled her close, held her against him.
    And they slept.
    * * *
    When Joanna awakened, she was still straddling Teague. The sun was up and the furnace was running, chugging dusty heat through the vents.
    The power was back on.
    Joanna sat back, blinking, and was chagrined to find Teague wide-awake, watching her with a tender, puzzled little smile.
    In the night, she’d been reckless, passionate, even wanton.
    In the daylight, she was forty-one.
    A grandmother-to-be.
    And the dog was whining at the front door, needing to go outside.
    She shifted to get to her feet, but Teague stopped her. Tightened his strong hands on her bare buttocks.
    â€œJoanna,” Teague said.
    â€œDon’t,” she whispered.
    He let her up and propelled her in the direction of the bathroom.
    By the time she’d finished her shower, squirmed into a pair of jeans that reminded her of the five pounds she’d gained, and added a bra and a T-shirt, Teague and Sammy were back from their walk.
    Teague was in the kitchen, whistling.
    Coffee was brewing.
    â€œLet’s have breakfast out,” he said as she entered. “Unless you want kibble or leftover salad.”
    â€œI’m not hungry,” Joanna lied. Didn’t he know she was fat?
    â€œWell, I am,” Teague said.
    Sammy munched happily on his kibble.
    And the telephone rang.
    â€œMom?”
    â€œHello, Caitlin,” Joanna said, feeling oddly embarrassed.
    â€œI guess the storm must be over, huh?” Caitlin asked.
    Joanna glanced at Teague and found him watching her. The expression in his eyes was not grandfatherly in the least. “Yes,” she said. “The storm is over.”
    â€œI was pretty hysterical last night,” Caitlin said