Read Online When Lightning Strikes Twice by Barbara Boswell - Free Book Online
Authors: Barbara Boswell
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it. His sex had swelled impossibly fast to iron-hard thickness, and he had pressed himself against her belly like a pathetically overeager teenager with his first erection.
His instantaneous sexual response to her forced Quint to face facts. To face the unwelcome, intolerable realization of just how much he had been wanting to be close to Rachel Saxon, to touch her, to hold her.
Since his very first sight of her!
The revelation was humbling, it was horrifying. He wanted her madly, and she hated his guts.
Lucky for him, his instincts for self-preservation were first-rate, enabling him to summon his considerable willpower and walk away from her. It hadn’t been easy; he’d been dangerously close to giving into the sensual fire raging within him. Before moving away from her, he had foolishly given in to that vestige of primitive impulse and run his hands over her hips in what was definitely a sexually possessive caress.
Lord, he had wanted to do so much more….
But already, the images were forming in his head, of Rachel and himself back in his office while the train rumbled past. He imagined yanking her classy little brown skirt up to her waist. Smoothing his palms over her spectacular long, shapely legs. Slipping his hand between them to feel the revealing wetness of her panties. And then pulling them off before finally, blissfully thrusting into her soft, moist warmth. Of course, she would be ready for him, she wanted him as much as he wanted her. He had seen that hot dreamy look of passion in her eyes when she’d gazed up at him.
Lady Antarctica? Freezer Queen? If the image of a sexuallyrepressed Rachel had aroused him, the reality of a passionate, hungry Rachel drove him wild.
But then, as now, reality intruded most harshly. He knew a wallbanger in his office with Rachel Saxon was so out of the question that he had no choice but to get away from her fast, before he dared to try it. He’d dashed to the window to stare out, studying the drab view of the tracks with fierce concentration, as if bent on counting each railroad tie, vaguely aware they’d had some sort of conversation though he couldn’t remember a thing either of them had said.
That phone call from Sarah had sent him from sensual disorientation into a panicked frenzy. His dad’s and Carla’s house was burning down? His kid brother was inside?
And his car was unavailable to take him to the scene. The world seemed to be unraveling until Rachel had offered him a ride.
From that moment he had been downright rotten to her, spoiling for a fight, determined to fend off any attempt at niceness on her part because God help him, he still wanted her. Badly. That raging hard-on of his had hardly subsided. His jacket was draped over his lap to conceal the evidence of his erection; he was sweating, but his heat was sexual and had nothing to do with the warm temperature outside.
It was outrageous, it was shameful, and he knew it. Despite the latest calamity befalling the Cormacks at this very moment, he was hard and hot and hungry for Rachel Saxon. He deeply, furiously resented her power over him.
Knowing that she was making a genuine effort to be understanding and patient with him only made things worse. He couldn’t have her, and she was making him want her even more. He needed Rachel to be cold and cranky, not likable. Acting in sheer self-defense, he’d made her act like the bitch he needed her to be.
He’d had to!
As usual, he was very good at getting the results he wanted. Rachel had turned back into a sharp-tongued shrew, actually forbidding him to speak to her. Mission accomplished.
“Hey, lady, you can’t drive down here!” A young policeman approached Rachel’s window, looking frazzled and impatient. “In case you haven’t noticed, there’s a fire.”
“Yes, Officer,” she replied politely. “I’m dropping off Mr. Cormack. He’s a family member who is—”
“Cormack?” The officer peered further into the car and saw Quint.
His instantaneous sexual response to her forced Quint to face facts. To face the unwelcome, intolerable realization of just how much he had been wanting to be close to Rachel Saxon, to touch her, to hold her.
Since his very first sight of her!
The revelation was humbling, it was horrifying. He wanted her madly, and she hated his guts.
Lucky for him, his instincts for self-preservation were first-rate, enabling him to summon his considerable willpower and walk away from her. It hadn’t been easy; he’d been dangerously close to giving into the sensual fire raging within him. Before moving away from her, he had foolishly given in to that vestige of primitive impulse and run his hands over her hips in what was definitely a sexually possessive caress.
Lord, he had wanted to do so much more….
But already, the images were forming in his head, of Rachel and himself back in his office while the train rumbled past. He imagined yanking her classy little brown skirt up to her waist. Smoothing his palms over her spectacular long, shapely legs. Slipping his hand between them to feel the revealing wetness of her panties. And then pulling them off before finally, blissfully thrusting into her soft, moist warmth. Of course, she would be ready for him, she wanted him as much as he wanted her. He had seen that hot dreamy look of passion in her eyes when she’d gazed up at him.
Lady Antarctica? Freezer Queen? If the image of a sexuallyrepressed Rachel had aroused him, the reality of a passionate, hungry Rachel drove him wild.
But then, as now, reality intruded most harshly. He knew a wallbanger in his office with Rachel Saxon was so out of the question that he had no choice but to get away from her fast, before he dared to try it. He’d dashed to the window to stare out, studying the drab view of the tracks with fierce concentration, as if bent on counting each railroad tie, vaguely aware they’d had some sort of conversation though he couldn’t remember a thing either of them had said.
That phone call from Sarah had sent him from sensual disorientation into a panicked frenzy. His dad’s and Carla’s house was burning down? His kid brother was inside?
And his car was unavailable to take him to the scene. The world seemed to be unraveling until Rachel had offered him a ride.
From that moment he had been downright rotten to her, spoiling for a fight, determined to fend off any attempt at niceness on her part because God help him, he still wanted her. Badly. That raging hard-on of his had hardly subsided. His jacket was draped over his lap to conceal the evidence of his erection; he was sweating, but his heat was sexual and had nothing to do with the warm temperature outside.
It was outrageous, it was shameful, and he knew it. Despite the latest calamity befalling the Cormacks at this very moment, he was hard and hot and hungry for Rachel Saxon. He deeply, furiously resented her power over him.
Knowing that she was making a genuine effort to be understanding and patient with him only made things worse. He couldn’t have her, and she was making him want her even more. He needed Rachel to be cold and cranky, not likable. Acting in sheer self-defense, he’d made her act like the bitch he needed her to be.
He’d had to!
As usual, he was very good at getting the results he wanted. Rachel had turned back into a sharp-tongued shrew, actually forbidding him to speak to her. Mission accomplished.
“Hey, lady, you can’t drive down here!” A young policeman approached Rachel’s window, looking frazzled and impatient. “In case you haven’t noticed, there’s a fire.”
“Yes, Officer,” she replied politely. “I’m dropping off Mr. Cormack. He’s a family member who is—”
“Cormack?” The officer peered further into the car and saw Quint.
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