Tucker’s balls ached as he stood in the doorway to the bedroom staring at beauty at its most divine. Hope was his ex, which should mean something, but at the moment, he couldn’t think clearly.
She was spread across his bed, her long blonde hair spread over the pillow. Her flushed cheeks made her eyes appear darker. Her pouty lips were kissable pink. Her nipples were puffy and erect. Her knees were bent and her hands splayed across her stomach.
He was in trouble and he didn’t give a damn.
He teetered on a high wire and he had a decision to make. If he followed his utmost desire, walked across the room and climbed in bed with her, he’d have to face the consequences of tomorrow. Was he prepared to face the harsh morning light?
On the other hand, he could turn and walk away. After all, she’d walked away from everything. He could turn the table and prove to himself, and to her, that he was over her enough to deny life’s greatest pleasure.
But he wasn’t over her, and he certainly couldn’t come up with one good reason what walking away would prove. Sure, he’d get some gratification knowing he’d spurred her as she’d done him—but he’d never been a spiteful person. He certainly had no desire, even in the darkest places of his heart, to hurt Hope. He had a feeling if he followed through, he’d be the only one who’d be burned.
And he was willing to face the devil to touch her one more time.
To feel her body next to his, against his.
What they’d shared earlier wasn’t enough and had only left him deeper in insanity’s grip.
Putting all thought and concern to the back of his mind, he stepped across the room toward the bed and the beauty that beckoned him like a treasure.
When he reached the edge of the mattress, she lifted up on knees, her breasts firm and her nipples were as hard and red as cherries.“My God, Hope.” His voice vibrated his chest.
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