Dean exhales a heavy breath. “I hate that she was the cause of everything you went through.”
“But everything I went through led me directly to you.”
And aside from my friends, I really don’t want my mother getting near my husband. I’m suddenly relieved that he’s leaving Mirror Lake again soon.
“Our marriage is what matters to me now, Dean.” I take off my coat and toss it over a chair. “I want this whole mess with the OJA cleared up, and I want you back home where you belong.”
He gazes at me for a moment before turning to pace across the room. Silence, tense with things unspoken, fills the space between us. Anxiety clutches my stomach.
Dean stops by the window and turns again, sliding his hands into his pockets. The sheer masculine beauty of him floods me with awe—the way his shirt stretches across his chest and shoulders, the swathe of hair falling across his forehead, those perceptive, intelligent eyes that conceal so many complex ideas.
“Liv.” He shakes his head. “I…”
His voice fades. I curl my hand around the back of the chair. I sense a sudden tangle of thoughts in him, his struggle to figure out what to say.
Professor Dean West always knows what to say.
A bolt of fear hits me.
“Hey.” I go to him again and put my hands around his waist. “Remember that fantastic make-out session we had a few weeks after we started dating?”
A smile tugs at his mouth. “I remember.”
“We could do that now, given that we’re dating again. Well, dating with benefits, anyway.”
Dean closes his hands on my shoulders, darkness shadowing his expression. I spread my palms over his lower back and tuck my fingers beneath his belt. I step closer, closing the scant distance between us and pressing my body to his. I almost moan at the contact of his chest against my breasts.
“Liv.” Restraint cords his forearms as he tightens his grip on me. “We need to talk.”
I don’t think that in the history of time anything good has followed those four words.
I move my hand to the back of his neck, spearing my fingers into his thick hair as I pull his mouth down to mine.
Our lips collide with sudden force, stopping his protest. Dean mutters something against my lips, his surrender swift as he slides his tongue into my mouth and pulls me even closer.
Longing and lust unfurl between us. I clutch his shirt, sinking into the whirlpool of pleasure evoked by the touch of our mouths. The world seems to right itself, settling into balance again. I skim my tongue against his, over his lower lip, my blood streaming with light.
“Sofa,” I whisper.
I grab his arms and walk backward to the sofa in front of the fireplace, keeping my mouth pressed to his until we sink against the cushions together, the delicious weight of his body over mine. Arousal billows inside me, shocking and delighting me with its intensity.
I grip the back of Dean’s neck and bite down on his lower lip in a way I know makes him hot. A groan rumbles in his chest. His erection presses heavy and thick against my hip. My body throbs in response.
I run my hands over his chest to the knot of his tie. With a few quick tugs, I pull it off and drop it to the floor then urge him back to me.
Our kiss eases into a lovely, teasing rhythm of lips and tongues. Gentle kisses, heated stroking. Dean curls his fingers into the material of my dress, a shudder of urgency vibrating through him. I force my mouth from his, our breathing hard.
“Take off my dress.” I fumble to reach the zipper at the back.
His eyes darken with that lustful anticipation I know so well. I manage to get the zipper down a little, and Dean reaches behind me to yank it the rest of the way. I squirm to get the dress off my shoulders and push it to my waist.
“Oh, fuck…” Dean’s eyes glaze over as he stares at my breasts.
“Nice, huh?” I look down at the emerald-green, push-up bra, which displays my cleavage to great advantage, the satin edge brushing my skin.
“I’m about to come already.” Dean spreads his hands over the bra, rubbing his thumbs across my taut nipples.
A shiver races down my spine. “There’s more.”
I wiggle my hips to indicate he should pull my dress off. His hands tremble as he grabs the material and tugs it down my legs to reveal the matching panties. Then he sits back and stares at me. My heart racing, I push up to my elbows as his gaze strokes the length of my body.
“You are so damn sexy,” he says.
The hoarse note in his voice makes me quiver. I sit up to unbutton his shirt and push it off, revealing the musculature of his shoulders and chest. I skim my hands over all those hard ridges, then move lower to take his erection in my palm.
“I want to make you come,” I whisper.