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"You think I'm hurt," she whispered against his lips. "I'm not."
Mal leaned in, his mouth hovering a fraction of an inch above hers. "I don't believe you. Whoever this guy is, he obviously did a number on you."
"He did," she agreed, her ebony eyes gleaming. Tears had streaked through her mascara, leaving a dark trail down one cheek. He reached up and brushed the smudge away. She shuddered at the contact. "But I'm not crying over him," she continued. "He's not worth it."
She flicked her wrist, the gesture encompassing the entire house, then laughed self-consciously. "Have you seen this place? How on earth will I manage a house like this? It would take three gardeners just to get the yard under control. The rest of the place needs work, too. The basement's still unfinished, the plaster's coming off in the kitchen, half the tile has been ripped up in the bathroom but never replaced, the plumbing doesn't--"
He pressed his mouth down on hers, hard, cutting off the rest of her rambling self-doubt. Whatever this house needed, whatever she needed, he'd make sure she got it.
Right now, as she clutched at his shirt and opened to him, Mal knew she needed the same thing he did.
Their tongues met, flicked against each other. She groaned, the sound lost against his own trembling moan. The flavor of tears and candy, a delicious blend of sweet and sour, flooded his veins. His cock twitched, hardening even further against her belly.
When he finally released her lips, it was only so he could bend his head down to her tempting, full breasts. The delectable mounds had intrigued him since he'd first seen her, and heyearned for a taste.
He unbuttoned her blouse, gently, with a patience he wouldn't have thought himself capable of. She wore a white cotton bra, form-fitting and practical. He lowered one cup, then clamped his mouth around the chocolate-colored bud that sprang out. Feasting on the hardened nipple, he nibbled, licked, and caressed the tender flesh as Rachel squirmed beneath him, her breathing quickening along with his.
"Oh, God, Malcolm," she whispered, her fingers tangling in his hair and pulling him closer. "What if someone sees us?"