Honeymoon

Chapter 71

LIKE A CRASHING WAVE, the two of us spilled into the foyer of the house. I kicked the front door closed behind us. What are you doing, O’Hara?

There was still time to stop it. A chance to pull away. All I had to do was quit kissing Nora.

But I couldn’t stop. She felt so soft, so damn good in my arms. She smelled delicious: her body, her hair. Her green eyes were amazing up close.

Nora took my hand and guided it up her dress along the inside of her thighs. Her breath caught. When I reached the smooth silk of her panties she held me tighter, her hips starting to move with my touch. She began to moan, and it had to be real, had to be. Why fake it with me?

Off went my shirt. Down went my pants. We stopped the kissing for just a moment—only long enough to lift Nora’s dress over her head. “Fuck me,” she said, slightly out of breath. Just like that. Except she made it sound sexy and irresistible.

Nora pulled us both to the floor and straddled me. She pushed aside her panties, took me in her hand, and guided me inside her. Even in the heat of the moment a funny line ran through my head: You’re fucked, O’Hara.

I was dizzy. The whole room was spinning. The room? We were in the marble foyer of Connor Brown’s house, the man she’d been engaged to. The man she may have killed. It couldn’t get any more screwed-up than that, I thought.

Think again. The next thing I knew, I heard a ringing down by my feet. It took me a moment to figure out what it was.

My cell phone.

Christ. I knew who it was. Susan! She was checking in. Talk about incredible timing.

“Don’t even think about getting that,” said Nora.

Don’t worry, I won’t.

The ringing stopped as we kept going, never breaking stride. We were in rhythm, incredibly in sync. She swept her beautiful brown hair down across my face. She was on top; then she was on the bottom; she was on her hands and knees, the delicate curve of her back belying the deep moans that asked for more until the foyer echoed with the two of us climaxing.

For a good couple of minutes, if not more, the two of us just stared up at the ceiling, saying nothing, getting our breathing under control.

Finally, I blinked. “The key was stuck?”

“Hey, you’re the one who fell for it.”

“I did, didn’t I?” I said. Then we were laughing, really laughing, as though it was the funniest thing that had ever happened to either of us. Nora had a great laugh when she let herself go. You wanted to laugh along with her.

“Are you hungry?” she asked. “Steak? We have Kobe. Or how does an omelet sound?”

“And she cooks, too.”

“I’ll take that as a yes. If you want, there’s a shower in the guest room. It’s up the stairs, your first right.”

“That would be great.”

She rolled on her side and kissed me. “Not as great as you, Craig Reynolds.”