ONE NIGHT ONLY

Chapter 10

Philip brushed his mouth across hers, memorizing the shape of her lips, their texture and taste. She tilted her chin up, and that encouragement, along with a tiny mewl of pleasure that vibrated in her throat, was all he needed.

An easy stroke of his tongue had her opening for him, taking him deep inside the silky warmth of her mouth until his head spun with the pleasure and his body engorged to rock-hard readiness. He’d had vague thoughts of taking things slow, but that was impossible when he had her fragrant satin curls fisted in his hands and her greedy enthusiasm matched his.

Trembling with the force of his lust, sweating with it, he ran his hands down her sides and inched them under her T-shirt—he had to touch her; his life depended on it—raising the soft cotton until it was out of his way. The heat of that silky skin almost blistered his palms, and the hard points of her nipples as she arched into him caused the last of his good sense to disintegrate.

Frenzied now, he cupped the heavy weight of her breasts and traced wide loops with his thumbs until, crying out with frustration, she grabbed his wrists, moved his hands so that they covered her nipples and made a choked sound of relief as she murmured his name.

Ecstatic and triumphant because he’d known they’d be explosive together (but this reality was so much better than any fantasy) he flattened his palms and circled her nipples, roughening his touch until her cries rose and she panted against his mouth.

"Philip," she whispered over and over again, "oh, God, Philip…Philip."

Was she about to come? Desperate to feel how wet she was, how close, he reached for her zipper, fumbled with it and—

"Mommy?"

They leapt apart at that distant voice and the sound of running feet, working together to lower Rosa’s shirt. Philip shook with frustration and he clenched his fists, trying to regain control.

"Rosa," he said, needing to say something.

But Rosa shook her head and smoothed her clothes, refusing to look at him.

By the time Brennan raced into the room, now wearing jeans and a sweater; they’d caught their breath a little, although Rosa’s flaming color was a neon sign that she’d nearly been making love. Thank goodness Lucille was nowhere in sight. She’d know at a glance what they’d just been up to.

"Mommy?"

"Yes, baby?" Rosa stood and gave her son a shaky smile.

"Can I play baseball outside?" Brennan held up a ratty glove that had obviously seen a lot of action in his young life.

"Absolutely. I’ll be right there."

"Can you play with me, Philip?" Brennan danced from one foot to the other, too excited to stand still while he waited for his answer.

"Absolutely," Philip told him. "Wait for me, okay?"

Brennan flashed a joyous smile and raced from the room.

Rosa looked as though she wished she could escape with him. "That shouldn’t have happened—"

Philip had known she’d say this, but hearing it still hurt. "It did happen."

"— and it won’t happen again."

The hell it wouldn’t.

"Be ready at five o’clock tonight," he continued, fighting his irritation. They’d just been so close. So damn close. Now he was back to square one, right where he started. "Check with Lucille and make sure she can watch Brennan."

Rosa’s jaw dropped. "Are you not listening—?"

"Not really. No."

"—and it’s better if you don’t spend too much time with Brennan. He’s desperate for a man’s attention, and I don’t want him to get the wrong—"

"Brennan’s a great kid. I’d love to see more of him."

"—idea and I’m not dating anyone, anyway." That pointy chin of hers hitched up, stubborn as a mule family convention. "And I’m not going anywhere with you tonight."

He almost smiled at her intransigence, but too much was at stake for this to be funny. "Five o’clock," he told her. "Wear something casual, but red. I like the red."

She was still spluttering when he left the room to find Brennan.