An Accidental Kiss (Dearly Beloved) Read Online Free Page A

and deliver the cake.”
    Panic grabbed at him just before his spirits crashed in complete and utter disappointment. “Okay.”
    Marcy nodded, looking at him with an expression he couldn’t read, her eyes huge and sad. “I thought...” she began, then shook her head. “Oh, it doesn’t matter. Goodnight, Frank.”
    “Marcy.” As she walked to the door he knew he should keep his mouth shut and let her go—but couldn't. “What did you think?”
    She took a deep breath. “At the restaurant that night you made your feelings very clear. You said you weren’t looking for a relationship and I appreciated your honesty. But then afterward when we, when you—”she stumbled helplessly over the words. “We sort of kissed and I thought things had changed...”
    “They did,” he admitted. “Marcy, the last thing I planned on was becoming interested in a woman, but I haven’t been able to get you off my mind.”
    “Oh, Frank.” She stepped away from the door and rushed to him. “You’re all I can think of—I feel like I’m going crazy.”
    She felt so small in his arms, and she smelled so good, like roses and chocolate and sunshine. And it was such a relief to hold her close again that for a moment all he could do was close his eyes and savor the feel of her, the pounding of her heart and the warmth of her body. When she lifted her face, he kissed her in a deliberate, sweet exploration.
    And he knew in that one brilliant moment he never wanted to let her go.
    ****
    Without him realizing it, they were in the living room, feverishly kissing like there was no tomorrow as he helped her wiggle free of her jacket and unwinding the scarf from around her neck so he could get to the silky skin of her throat, her face, her mouth. Heat pulsed through him, need exacerbated by her soft, desperate moans.
    He pulled off her top then unclipped her bra. Almost reverently, Frank touched her full, round breasts, gently grazing the pale pink nipples with his fingertips.
    Marcy stood and pulled off the rest of her clothes while Frank watched. In the dying light of the fire, her pale skin appeared golden. Quickly, he took off his jeans and shirt, saw Marcy swallow convulsively as her eyes ran over his body, and then she was touching him, gliding her hands across his skin and making him shudder, then guiding him inside her. He groaned aloud, struggling for control as Marcy moved, finding her own release. She whispered his name, her body tensing as it was overtaken with ecstasy, and Frank felt his own need explode as he plunged deeply inside her.
    Afterward, he held her, not quite believing what had just happened. He thought that if he’d been a praying man, he might have thanked God. For so long, his life had been so bleak, so empty of joy. And now here he was, holding Marcy in his arms. Her arms were around him, her silky nakedness pressed against the length of his body.
    “Frank,” she whispered.
    He guided her upstairs. She tripped once in the darkness and giggled and he grinned, feeling young again. They made love again in his bed, slower this time. He touched every inch of her, marveling at the way her body felt—the curves of her waist, the silkiness of her shoulders, the sweet roundness of her bottom. His fingers played and lingered in the damp curls between her thighs, exploring the slippery heat he found there. Marcy’s breath quickened. Slowly, Frank eased himself inside her. She wrapped her legs around his body and pulled him close, straining against him. And they made love, moving as one, amazed.
    They slept for a while, a peaceful and satisfied sleep the likes of which he hadn’t enjoyed for some time. And then he felt Marcy stir in his arms.
    She raised herself up on one elbow. “What time is it?’
    He blinked at his alarm clock, wondering why it mattered. “Almost midnight.”
    “Goodness, I have to get going,” she said, hopping out of bed and grabbing the sheet to cover herself.
    “Why don’t you just stay the