The Road to Rose Bend by Naima Simone (best book club books of all time txt) 📕

tongue around hers, every greedy pull as if he couldn’t get enough of her taste, of her, increased the lust clawing at her, demanding to be satisfied. Didn’t stop her from meeting him thrust for thrust, lick for lick, moan for moan.

And when his hips rocked forward, his thick cock grinding just under her swelled belly, the wide length riding over her clit, she emitted a soft, shocked cry. And when he repeated it, slower, firmer, she damn near erupted. Her knees trembled, almost giving out. So long. It’d been so long since she’d been touched as a desirable woman.

And she’d never experienced this...this intense, uncontrollable need and ravenous hunger that threatened to raze her to the ground and leave only ashes behind. One kiss. This one kiss rivaled the best sex she’d ever had. God. If just a meeting of mouths and tongues could render her a shivering, throbbing mess, what would the actual act do to her? Would she be the same after he slid into her body, stretching her, molding her, burning her...

Damn, she wanted to find out.

Even if it meant being irrevocably changed afterward.

“Um... Cole?” The hesitant, feminine voice that shook a little interrupted on their lust-soaked cocoon.

Sydney flinched, the intrusion an icy dousing of reality. Cole’s grip tightened on her for a fraction of a second, as if he protested releasing her. But then his hands dropped away as if scalded. Or repulsed. He stepped back. Then back again.

Stunned, eyes wide, Sydney stared at him. At his hooded eyes with just a rim of amber visible, his damp, swollen lips, clenched fists and, good God, the bulge in the front of his pants. Big. Long. It had her mouth watering and her flesh spasming. Another whimper of need scratched its way up her throat, and she called on every scrap of her tattered control to lock it down.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” that same voice interjected again, and it shocked her as much now as it did seconds ago.

Turning, she faced Caroline Jacobs. The irony that she’d preempted their kiss last time wasn’t lost on Sydney. The woman’s timing was either impeccable or left a lot to be desired. At the moment, Sydney couldn’t decide which one.

“It’s fine, Caroline,” Cole finally said, his voice the texture of grit and rubble. Shifting his focus to the other woman, he asked, “What do you need?”

“The concert is about to wind down. You’re needed onstage for the closing remarks for the day. I’ll just wait over there while you...” She glanced at Sydney before switching her gaze back to him. “Finish up.” Clearing her throat, she wandered several feet away, granting them a modicum of privacy.

Sydney averted her eyes, too vulnerable, too raw to continue meeting his. If he apologized... If he told her it was a mistake—that she was a mistake... He wouldn’t be wrong about this kiss crossing a line they shouldn’t have no matter how much she hungered for it, but right now she couldn’t handle the rejection. Or the message that she wasn’t wanted.

“I should go so you can...do your mayor thing,” she murmured.

Not granting him time to say anything or stop her—if he even intended to do either—she pivoted on her heel and headed toward the parking lot.

“Sydney.”

She drew to a halt but didn’t turn around.

“I’ve never had sex with Jenna,” he said, his low, sensual voice caressing her exposed skin like dark velvet. His admission rocked through her, igniting another quake of shivers. But he wasn’t through. “You’re the first woman I’ve touched in two years.”

She heard him walk away. Caught the murmur of his deeper tone and Caroline’s lighter one. And yet, she still remained in the same spot, his confession ringing in her ears.

She should be terrified by that information. More specifically, terrified by the satisfaction and joy that fizzed and popped in her veins like champagne bubbles.

But she wasn’t. Her heart thumped, filling her head with its ecstatic rhythm.

And that... Well, that should’ve scared her most of all.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

SYDNEY GLARED AT the one-cup coffee maker as the fragrant brew poured into the waiting mug. Decaffeinated. It was a crime against God and nature. But the thought of going cold turkey had her body screaming in mutiny, so decaf it was. The sacrifices she made for this baby.

Sighing, she leaned back against the counter, the cabinet cushioning her head. God, she was tired. After a full day at the motorcycle rally, she should’ve fallen asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. But no such luck. Her thoughts had whirled in her head long into the night, filled with instant replays of The Kiss. And also, with the audio of Cole’s confession.

You’re the first woman I’ve touched in two years.

Even now, her belly dipped, an eddying heat rushing in to fill the void. Confusion and arousal—not a good mix and detrimental to a decent night’s sleep. Why had Cole admitted that to her? Should she go to his cottage and ask him? Should she just leave it alone? Should she avoid him altogether? Logic cautioned that becoming physically and emotionally involved with a man who clearly still loved his dead wife and deeply grieved her and their son’s deaths totaled up to a mistake. And while the woman she’d been six months ago might’ve risked it, the mother-to-be she was now couldn’t. Because she didn’t only have herself to consider. She needed to be whole, settled and completely focused on her baby. And a brokenhearted mother indulging in a doomed fling didn’t constitute settled or focused.

And no matter how much her body craved him, was greedy for his brand of passion, lust didn’t transform her into an idealistic idiot. Anything between her and Cole could only end one way.

With heartbreak and pain.

The coffee machine emitted one final hiss and bubble, and the last drops plopped into her cup. First, coffee, she prioritized. Then obsessing.

Just as she lifted the mug to her lips for that first wonderful sip, a firm