Batteries Not Required Read Online Free Page B

mouth, I cried out, buried my hands in his hair, and held him close.
    I felt his chuckle of triumph reverberate through my breast, but I still didn’t stop him. Just a minute more, I remember thinking. Just a minute more, and then I’ll push him away and slap his face for him.
    â€œOh, God,” I said instead.
    He hooked a thumb in the waistband of my jeans and panties and pulled them down, in one move. Without releasing my breast, he hoisted me onto the pool table, eased me back onto the felt top, and reached inside to find my sweet spot.
    I gasped his name.
    He pushed up my top, and my bra, took his time enjoying my breasts.
    My vision blurred. Just a minute more . . .
    â€œRemember how it was with us?” Tristan asked throatily, kissing my belly now. My jeans and panties were around my ankles by then. “Remember?”
    I’d tried to shut the memory out of my mind for ten years, but I remembered, all right. At a cellular level.
    Tristan stopped long enough to pull off my shoes and toss my pants aside. Then he was nibbling at my navel again, and I felt his fingers glide inside me.
    I wish I could blame him, but I was the one who lifted my heels to the edge of the pool table and parted my legs.
    I held my breath, waiting. There was a debate going on inside my head.
    Tell him to stop.
    Just a minute more . . .
    The debate was nothing, compared to the riot in my senses. The weather was mild, but my skin burned as the passion grew.
    Tristan parted me, took me into his mouth.
    I moaned.
    He teased me with the tip of his tongue. Made me beg.
    He sucked again, then went back to flicking at me.
    I bucked on that old pool table, and when he knew I was ready to come, he slipped both hands under my buttocks, raised me high, and ate me until I exploded. I had one orgasm, then another, deeper and harder. I lost count before he finally eased me down onto the felt again, and even though I was dazed with satisfaction, I knew it wasn’t over.
    I sensed that he was unbuttoning his jeans, unwrapping a condom, putting it on.
    He moved sleekly into me, and that was when I caught fire again. He’d worked me over so well that I wouldn’t have thought I had another orgasm in me, but I did.
    Tristan put his hands behind my shoulders and lifted me up, so I was sitting on him. I wrapped my bare legs around his hips and held on tight. I knew from experience that this ride would be wilder than anything the rodeo had to offer.
    â€œGod, you feel good,” Tristan rasped, kissing me again. “So good.”
    He raised me, then lowered me slowly along his shaft. I gave a sob, tilted my head back, and closed my eyes.
    â€œLook at me,” he said.
    I was under a spell by then, rummy with need. I did as he asked.
    I had three more orgasms before Tristan laid me down again, on the pool table, and thrust hard, one, twice, a third time. We came together, me sobbing and clinging, drenched in perspiration, Tristan with his head flung back like a stallion taking a mare. He gave a muffled shout, and stiffened against me, driving deeper than ever.
    When it was over, he braced both hands against the side of the table, on either side of my hips, breathing heavily.
    â€œIs it like that with Bob?” he asked.
    That was when I slapped him, hard.
    He stepped back, grinning, but the look in his eyes was hard. He handed me my jeans and panties and stepped back, after pulling me to my feet. I scrambled into my clothes, jammed on my shoes. I wanted to slap him again, but a part of me was ashamed of doing it once, let alone a second time. I’m not a violent person, and I don’t believe in hitting people.
    â€œYou bastard,” I said. Then I fled, across the tavern, through the apartment, out into the backyard, letting the screen door slam hard behind me. The lake was right there, shimmering with azure blue beauty, and I wanted to drown myself in it.
    Behind me, the door hinges squeaked.
    â€œGayle.”