Say Goodbye (Romantic Suspense #25) by Karen Rose

            She shifted her hips, and he groaned because, most of all, he was horny as hell. His body had been in stasis for so long. He’d desired her many times since they’d moved to Sacramento, but not like this. Not with this clawing, desperate need, like a raging river after the collapse of a dam.

            “I want you,” he whispered and she made a noise so close to a whimper that his fingers flexed, digging into the firm muscles of her ass. “You have an amazing ass.”

            She laughed. “Thank you. I must admit to having ogled yours a time or two.”

            “Only a time or two?”

            “A million times, or two,” she murmured.

            His lips curved and he kissed her hair. “There are things I want to do with you—” He groaned again when she shivered hard, her hips lifting so that she was pressing against his erection. “Wait. Just . . . wait. I need to think.”

            “No thinking. Time for doing.” She released her hold on his neck, slipping her fingers between them and unbuttoning three buttons before his brain reconnected to his mouth.

            He gave her a short, hard kiss before turning from the wall where they’d been leaning.

            “First door on the left,” she said huskily, then hummed when his feet stopped walking, his hips grinding against her of their own volition. “Mmm. You liked that.”

            Tom didn’t think he was going to make it. “After,” he choked out.

            She looked up at him with a frown. And a little hurt. “After what?”

            “I think we should talk. Don’t you?”

            Her lower lip poked out and he wanted to bite it. Just like he had every time she’d pouted since she was seventeen years old.

            Now he could, so he did, tugging gently on her full lip with his teeth before following it up with a kiss that made her sigh dreamily. “You feel me,” he whispered against her now-upturned lips. “You know I want you. That I want this. But I want to do this right.”

            She sighed again, put-upon. “Dudley Do-Right,” she muttered. “Fine.” She wriggled her hips again, trying to slide from his hold, but he was having none of that.

            “Don’t go.” He punctuated his plea with another kiss. “Please.”

            He lowered them both to the sofa until he sat with his head back against the cushion and she straddled him on her knees, his hands rubbing up and down her thighs restlessly.

            She smiled down at him, her expression wicked. “I could talk like this for a while.”

            He shook his head, unable to keep the smile from his face. “I need to say a few things. I need you to hear me.”

            She drew a breath and let it out, then sat back on his lap. “All right. I’m listening.”

            “You said that you’ve . . .” He felt his cheeks heat, and his eyes narrowed because she was grinning at him like the spitfire she was. “What?” he demanded.

            She swept her thumbs over his cheeks. “You’re blushing. It’s sweet.”

            He rolled his eyes. “I am not sweet.”

            “Oh, okay. You are mean.” She folded her hands in her lap, demurely waiting. Except for her eyes, which danced with an amusement that he hadn’t seen in a very long time.

            I love you. He startled, not sure when “wanting her” and “longing for her” had become “loving her.” But the words were true. He knew it as well as he knew his own name. But he held the three words back. Not yet. He needed to say other things first. Important things.

            “You said that you’ve loved me since you were seventeen.”

            She abruptly sobered, his intent finally seeming to register. “I did.”

            “I . . .”

            She smiled ruefully. “You don’t have to say it, Tom. I’d rather you wait until you know it’s true than just say words back to me.”

            “But that’s just it. I have loved you that long.”