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"Reed Barnett," she said again, trying to convince herself he really stood there.
It had been the eyes. When he took off the dark glasses and she'd seen his eyes, she'd known. They were the same eyes that had haunted her dreams over the years. Eyes she would never forget--dark midnight blue rimmed with thick, velvet black eyelashes.
There'd been times when he looked at her she'd felt like she was enclosed in a thick velvet cloak, soft and warm, wrapped around her, stroking against her skin.
He was older, and there were fine lines near his eyes and at the corners of his mouth. His thick, wavy dark hair was sprinkled with silver lights. Maturity had added depth to the boy. Solid, hard muscle stretched the leather coat across his broad shoulders. Her gaze traveled downward to lean, narrow hips encased in black, figure-molding jeans. He'd always looked great in his worn blue jeans; now was no different.
"It's been a long time, Jo." His deep, raspy voice reminded her of autumn late night walks through the fallen leaves, the smell of burning logs and crackling bonfires. And his warm hands exploring her body beneath a bulky sweater as she sat between his hard thighs.
For the first time in a very long time her body responded in ways she'd only ever experienced with Reed. Desire gripped her. Her nipples beaded beneath the old, faded T-shirt she wore, and liquid heat flooded her pussy as a burgeoning fire began to spark to life in her belly. She grasped the open door more tightly, to keep herself from reaching out to him, to see if he was real or just a figment of her vivid imagination.