Patrick was the boy next door, and it didn’t take long for her to fall in love with him. Even if it didn’t make sense, she loved him, and giving him her body, heart, and soul was never a second thought. She loved him despite the pain and heartache he’d caused after their week-long fling in college.
Patrick never expected to fall in love with her.
Her sweet, wholesome beauty had captured him one night at a college party, and that was it. She’d been the neighborhood girl who’d help him shovel snow and watch him from her bedroom window. He’d screwed up after the trip, giving her the cold shoulder, even if his heart told him otherwise. He knew after those nights in Greece, things would never be the same for him again.
Then, six years later, a chance meeting on an elevator changed everything.
The pitch-black room and confined space heightened her senses, sending them clear to the floor above. She bit the inside of her cheek to stifle a moan, but his hands. Oh, those naughty hands, lowered, slightly lifting her skirt until his fingertips touched the tops of her garter and stockings, lazily caressing the exposed skin.
“Sexy Emma, what I wouldn’t give to see the sight of you wearing these.” He fingered the lacy edge. “Wearing only these.”
Then without hesitation, he pressed his mouth to her neck. A favored spot, it seemed, and time hadn’t changed that as he scattered open-mouth kisses to the delicate skin. He feasted as though he’d been ravenous. She hadn’t been the object of a man’s desire in years and was willing to be this man’s last meal.
About Rose Lange