Everyday, Average Jones. Suzanne Brockmann
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He lowered his head and kissed her.
It was an amazing kiss, a powerful kiss, a no-holds-barred kind of kiss. It amplified all of the heat she’d seen in Harlan Jones’s bedroom eyes over the past forty-eight hours. God, had it only been forty-eight hours? She felt as if she’d known this man for at least a lifetime. She felt, too, as if she’d wanted him for every single second of that time.
He kissed her even harder, deeper, sweeping his tongue into her mouth. It was a kiss that was filled with a promise of ecstasy, of lovemaking the likes of which she’d never known. The entire earth dropped out from under her feet, and she clung to him, giddy and dizzy and happier than she’d ever been in her entire life, returning his kisses with equal abandon. He wanted her. This incredible man honestly, truly wanted her.
His lips were warm, his mouth almost hot. He tasted sweet, like one of those energy bars he’d shared with her. Melody realized that she was laughing, and when she pulled back to look at him, he was smiling, too.
And then, just as he’d said, she was tugged gently away from him toward one of the ambulances as he was led toward another.
He kept watching her, though, and she held his gaze right up until the moment that she was helped into the back of the emergency vehicle. But before she went in, she glanced at him one last time. He was still watching her, still smiling. And he mouthed a single word. “Tonight.”
Melody couldn’t wait.
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