Shadows of the Past Read Online Free
Author: H.M. Ward, Stacey Mosteller
tipping his head back.
It’s a rush of adrenaline, that’s all. There’s no other explanation for the effect I have on him or how his touch lights me on fire.
I trace my hand over his toned muscles and smooth skin, wishing his shirt was gone. I tug at the tie, freeing it from his neck and tossing it aside. I pull at his shirt, unbuttoning it as his lips work the spot on the side of my neck. His hands remain on my waist, which is driving me nuts. I wiggle, trying to get him to touch me, but he doesn’t.
Hungry for his touch, I find his hands and place them over my chest, letting him feel my curves. His hands are smooth and strong, gripping me softly, rubbing his thumb. His kisses have become ravenous as he trails his way down my neck with his lips.
I arch my back wanting him to free me. The images behind my eyes fight to be seen, but I’m close to sensation overload. It’ll chase the shadows away, and the nightmare will cease for now. I shut my eyes tightly, not wanting him to see.
Today it happened. My mind flashes back to the moment before we left for the hospital. Elation fills me, followed by dread.
My stomach flips when he touches me, pulling me from the memory. I gasp and finally get his shirt open. I rake my nails over his chest and pull his waist to my hips. Hot Guy lets out a wonderfully deep, sexy sound as he presses against me.
Tugging at his hair, I want more. In a breathy voice, I utter a word I haven’t said this way in years, “Please.” I want him to free me, to let me escape for a little while.
He presses his eyes closed and lowers his face that last little bit, which puts his lips right in front of my breast. Breathing hard, I watch my chest rise and fall, waiting for him to kiss me there.
Hot Guy leans in painfully slow, and just as his lips brush against my skin there’s a knock at the door. Startled, I jump back and slam my head into the wall behind me. The result is like cold water. He darts back and runs his hands through his hair. Breathing hard, he looks over his shoulder at me, conflicted.
I remain seated on top of the sideboard, unable to look away from him. My arms slowly come up to cover my chest as a second knock follows the first.
He turns and looks at his shirt on the floor, dips over and picks it up. He drapes it over my shoulders and pulls it shut in front. When he does so, I notice his hands are shaking although he tries to hide it.
“My apologies, but I’m afraid this isn’t going to work. I can’t do this.” He presses his lips together and turns toward the door. In a few long strides, he’s across the room, and no longer in sight. I hear the door open, but I can’t move. Shock holds me in place for a few seconds.
When the door closes, Hot Guy returns with a wicker basket filled with clothes. “I owe you an explanation—”
My shoulders come up to my ears, and I shiver. Slipping off the sideboard, I turn and toss him his shirt. “No, you really don’t.”
“I really do.”
I pull up my dress while he’s talking and yank up the zipper, mortified. “Think nothing of it.” As I dart passed him, he reaches for me, grabbing hold of my wrist. We both spin around and face each other. He’s breathing hard, shirtless, and beautiful—with pity in his eyes. “Don’t.” It’s one word, a command to stop.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you…”
I grab my purse and then slip my shoes on one at a time. It feels like it’s taking me forever to get out the door. I want to cry, and I can’t let him see me. I keep my gaze on the carpet as I tug on my shoes. “You didn’t.”
Before he can say another word, I’m gone.
CHAPTER 4
Sleep eludes me. I spend most of the night regretting Mr. Sexy Pants, especially with the way things ended. His wife was probably at the door. God, I’m so stupid.
Needing to clear my head, I impatiently wait for Emily to leave the flat before heading out. I can’t face her. She’s going to want to know what
It’s a rush of adrenaline, that’s all. There’s no other explanation for the effect I have on him or how his touch lights me on fire.
I trace my hand over his toned muscles and smooth skin, wishing his shirt was gone. I tug at the tie, freeing it from his neck and tossing it aside. I pull at his shirt, unbuttoning it as his lips work the spot on the side of my neck. His hands remain on my waist, which is driving me nuts. I wiggle, trying to get him to touch me, but he doesn’t.
Hungry for his touch, I find his hands and place them over my chest, letting him feel my curves. His hands are smooth and strong, gripping me softly, rubbing his thumb. His kisses have become ravenous as he trails his way down my neck with his lips.
I arch my back wanting him to free me. The images behind my eyes fight to be seen, but I’m close to sensation overload. It’ll chase the shadows away, and the nightmare will cease for now. I shut my eyes tightly, not wanting him to see.
Today it happened. My mind flashes back to the moment before we left for the hospital. Elation fills me, followed by dread.
My stomach flips when he touches me, pulling me from the memory. I gasp and finally get his shirt open. I rake my nails over his chest and pull his waist to my hips. Hot Guy lets out a wonderfully deep, sexy sound as he presses against me.
Tugging at his hair, I want more. In a breathy voice, I utter a word I haven’t said this way in years, “Please.” I want him to free me, to let me escape for a little while.
He presses his eyes closed and lowers his face that last little bit, which puts his lips right in front of my breast. Breathing hard, I watch my chest rise and fall, waiting for him to kiss me there.
Hot Guy leans in painfully slow, and just as his lips brush against my skin there’s a knock at the door. Startled, I jump back and slam my head into the wall behind me. The result is like cold water. He darts back and runs his hands through his hair. Breathing hard, he looks over his shoulder at me, conflicted.
I remain seated on top of the sideboard, unable to look away from him. My arms slowly come up to cover my chest as a second knock follows the first.
He turns and looks at his shirt on the floor, dips over and picks it up. He drapes it over my shoulders and pulls it shut in front. When he does so, I notice his hands are shaking although he tries to hide it.
“My apologies, but I’m afraid this isn’t going to work. I can’t do this.” He presses his lips together and turns toward the door. In a few long strides, he’s across the room, and no longer in sight. I hear the door open, but I can’t move. Shock holds me in place for a few seconds.
When the door closes, Hot Guy returns with a wicker basket filled with clothes. “I owe you an explanation—”
My shoulders come up to my ears, and I shiver. Slipping off the sideboard, I turn and toss him his shirt. “No, you really don’t.”
“I really do.”
I pull up my dress while he’s talking and yank up the zipper, mortified. “Think nothing of it.” As I dart passed him, he reaches for me, grabbing hold of my wrist. We both spin around and face each other. He’s breathing hard, shirtless, and beautiful—with pity in his eyes. “Don’t.” It’s one word, a command to stop.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you…”
I grab my purse and then slip my shoes on one at a time. It feels like it’s taking me forever to get out the door. I want to cry, and I can’t let him see me. I keep my gaze on the carpet as I tug on my shoes. “You didn’t.”
Before he can say another word, I’m gone.
CHAPTER 4
Sleep eludes me. I spend most of the night regretting Mr. Sexy Pants, especially with the way things ended. His wife was probably at the door. God, I’m so stupid.
Needing to clear my head, I impatiently wait for Emily to leave the flat before heading out. I can’t face her. She’s going to want to know what
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