She hadn't changed anything since Sam left. Some of his clothes still hung in the closet they'd shared. She'd told herself to get a new bedspread, new curtains, start over, but she hadn't found the time to do it. Now she wished she had.
For lying on his side of the king-sized bed was Sam. Fast asleep, one arm flung over his eyes; he looked like he'd looked every night for the past nine years when they'd shared this very bed. And curled up next to him in her pink pajamas was Megan.
Alli thought her heart might just break. For this scene, this moment, was all she had ever really wanted.
Taking a deep breath, she walked into the room and flipped off the television. Megan and Sam slept on, Sam making an occasional deep-throated snore that was so painfully familiar.
Her side of the bed was empty, waiting, the sheets still cool and crisp.
They'd slept this way, the three of them, many a night when Megan had a nightmare or a stomachache or just wanted to be close to her parents.
But Alli couldn't leave them like this, not tonight. Megan needed to be in her own bed, and Sam in his bed at his house, far away from her own treacherous longings. Leaning over, Alli touched Megan on the shoulder. "Bedtime, honey."
Megan blinked sleepily, not really waking up, but alert enough so that Alli could get her up off the bed and walk her into her bedroom. "'Night, Mommy," Megan murmured as Alli tucked the covers under her chin. "I love you."
"I love you, too," Alli replied, planting a kiss on Megan's forehead as the little girl drifted off to sleep once again.
Oh, to be so easily able to sink into oblivion. Alli would give just about anything for a few hours of peace away from all of her problems, but she doubted she'd be able to sleep even when she got to bed. There was too much going through her mind.
Returning to her bedroom, Alli stopped by Sam's side of the bed and stared down at him. He simply could not stay here.
"Sam, wake up. You have to leave," she said.
He grunted, then rolled over on his side, facing away from her.
"It's late, and I'm tired, and you can't sleep here." She slipped off her shoes and contemplated her options. She knew from past experience that Sam could sleep through anything. With renewed purpose, she put her hand on his arm. It was a mistake. She could feel the power of his muscles and for a moment briefly considered moving her fingers under the edge of his T-shirt so she could really touch him. Lord! What was she thinking?
"Okay, this is it, wake up, Sam!" She raised her voice loud enough to be heard but not so loud that she'd wake Megan. It wasn't enough. His breathing didn't even change.
"You just won the lottery," she tried. "A new boat," she continued. "You just won a new sport-fishing boat. You'll love it. But you have to wake up, so you can go get it."
Sam slept on.
She leaned over, planting her mouth right next to his ear, determined to let loose a scream that would surely wake him. But as she opened her lips, she was caught by the sexy curl of hair that graced his earlobe. She could remember kissing that earlobe, sliding her tongue along the edge.
Her breath came in a ragged gasp, and she felt a sensuous warmth draw heat to her cheeks and her hands and her breasts and her thighs…
She fought against the instinct to kiss him. It wasn't right. It was wrong, absolutely wrong. She couldn't do it!
But even if she did put her lips against his ear, he wasn't going to wake up. Nothing could wake him up. She knew that. It was safe.
One little lick, she told herself, one tiny kiss for old time's sake…#p#分页标题#e#
Her tongue touched his ear in pure rebellion against her common sense. She kissed his earlobe, then moved over to his jaw, his strong, sexy jaw, bristling with the rough edge of a dawning beard. She trailed her lips along his jawbone, which ended so close to the curve of his lips.
She couldn't resist. She put her mouth against his in a soft, breathy kiss that couldn't possibly wake him up.
She let her tongue play along the line of his lips and when he opened his mouth ever so slightly, she had to fight to stop herself from slipping inside, from tasting him completely. He smelled so good. He tasted even better.
And then suddenly his mouth wasn't still beneath hers, it was hot and seeking, taking her own mouth with a hard surety that couldn't be compromised. Sam's arm came around her, and she was tumbled on her back on the bed next to him. Sam pressed his body against hers, every long, hard inch of him touching every short, soft inch of her body.
His mouth came down again and again and again, until she was trembling from the onslaught.
When his hand came up under her sweater, his fingertips brushing her breast, she gave a soft cry. She tried to tell herself to stop, but his fingers brushed her nipple, and his hard groin fit perfectly between her thighs, and her body started melting into liquid fire.