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She glared at him, hurt clear in her eyes. She cared for him, too. That much was obvious by the look on her face.

“You don’t like me.” The hurt there in her voice was so real. The anger and frustration seeped out of him. All he wanted to do was comfort her. Take her heart away.

“No, that’s not true.” He took a deep breath. “I do like you. More than like you.” He ran a frustrated hand through his windswept hair. “I want you. I want you all the time. Even right now, I want to take you in my arms and kiss the holy life out of you.”

“You…” Now, she just looked dumbfounded and doubtful.

There was only one way to prove what he said was true. He put his arm around the small of her back and pulled her to him. She didn’t resist. Then he laid his lips on hers.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

LAURA HADN’T BEEN expecting that. His passionate kiss took her by surprise, and she was suddenly once again in his arms and feeling the rush of blood in her ears as the thrill of kissing this man took over. She kissed him back, unable to help herself.

Anger still pulsed in her temples, but it soon turned to unadulterated passion as he pulled her to him. She pressed her body against his, feeling his flat stomach and hard chest against her. His hands roamed her body, sending a little thrill down her back even as his tongue gently explored her mouth. She could taste sea spray on his lips, and all she wanted to do was dive deeper into him, get lost in the moment.

She didn’t understand how this had happened so fast. One second, she was angry and hurt, and the next minute, passion overran every logical thought in her brain.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, and as the kiss deepened, the flame of desire inside her burned even brighter. She hiked one leg up on his hip, and he grabbed her leg, keeping it there, squeezing her knee in a way that made her moan. All she wanted to do was get horizontal somehow, as her knee dropped down and he walked her back to the couch. They flopped down, and he pressed down on top of her, his body weight on her deliciously heavy.

His hand explored up the opening of her shorts and she welcomed his touch, experienced, knowing, gentle.

Even as her brain warned her that he was emotionally unavailable, that she ought not to let this happen, her body screamed out, who cares? It wanted satisfaction in the moment, and a desperate need for physical intimacy took over. She wanted to touch someone and be touched, to be seen after feeling invisible for the last month. Invisible to Dean, invisible to the world, even invisible to her very self.

Mark had been the first one to truly see her, she realized, since the miscarriage, to see all of her and know her flaws and still want to get this close.

Mark pulled away, breath ragged, as his gaze found hers. “Are you sure?” he asked, a quiver of doubt in his voice, shaky with want.

This was what she wanted. It was what she’d always wanted since their first kiss.

“I’m sure,” she breathed with a hefty amount of enthusiasm.

Mark laughed and she did, too. She tugged at his shirt, and then it was off over his head, and she was running her hands down his muscular, tanned chest. He closed his eyes as she explored him and dipped her hands into the waistband of his pants. He came to life beneath her touch, and her eyes widened in surprise.

“Amazing,” she murmured, and he gave her a cocksure grin.

“I aim to please,” he teased and then dipped down once more and kissed her with a passion that surprised her. He took a break once more as he tugged at her tankini top. In seconds, she’d wiggled out of it, and he trailed kisses down one breast, ending with a gentle tug of her nipple between his teeth.

She moaned in ecstasy, arching her back as he twirled his tongue, flicking against the tender skin. He moved to the other side, repeating the gesture, almost sending her tumbling over the edge with just that gentle touch.

Their eyes met, and she saw the want in them, as he followed the line of his hand down the front of her body. He stopped at her shorts and gave a hard tug. She helped him, lifting her butt, as her shorts and her bikini bottom slid off. Now she was completely bare, lying beneath him on his couch.

She felt no shame. This was right. She wanted this connection more than she wanted anything. She wanted him to save her from the island of isolation she’d been stranded on since the miscarriage. Somehow, in this moment, she was convinced his touch would do that. Would make it all better.

She could feel her bare back pressed against the soft fabric of his sofa. He straightened and moved away from her long enough to get his own shorts off, and then she saw him, fully naked before her. She reached out to touch him with both hands and he leaned into her touch, groaning with want.

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