Maternal Instinct Read Free Page A

thing in the world when he parted her legs and entered her. She banged a knee against the door; he made another rough sound and readjusted their positions so that she half sat and he knelt between her legs. She looked down at where they met and realized that he was deep inside her, part of her. The past twenty-four hours were erased in the glorious flood of sensations as Hugh moved slowly, leaving her bereft, then filling her. She gripped his shoulders and rode him as he thrust harder, more desperately. Tension built and spiraled until Nell pleaded with him in a high, needy voice.
    "Let go, sweetheart." He gripped her hips and drove into her. "Let go."
    She went still in wonder as pure pleasure poured from her belly through every vein in her body. "Oh-h," she breathed.
    "Yes!" With guttural triumph in his voice, he thrust hard and fast one last time, jerked and groaned, then collapsed on top of her.
    Nell wiped inexplicable tears on his bare shoulder. "Thank you," she whispered, and didn't know if he heard her.
    Hugh awakened to an aching body and head. His mouth was dirt dry and it took him a moment to work it closed. He opened his eyes, squinted against the brilliance, and, stabbed by pain, squeezed them shut again.
    Damn, his neck hurt. It was bent at a weird angle, his head wedged into a corner. Where the hell had he fallen asleep? Or had he been unconscious?
    An explosion. Maybe there'd been an explosion and a ceiling had fallen on him. That would explain the weight holding him down and the headache he felt waiting to erupt the second he moved the tiniest bit. He wasn't on the bomb squad, not being suicidal by nature, but if some crazy had set one…
    In a sickening wave, he remembered what the crazy had done. He lurched, his head fractured into a million atoms of pain, and somebody else gasped and shoved an elbow into his gut.
    He swore and opened his eyes. A wild woman was staring up at him. Her eyes were big and brown and bloodshot, her face was puffy, her lips as dry as his mouth, and her dishwater blond hair was a snarled mess.
    "Oh, my God!" she said in stricken tones.
    His head clunked back against the car door and he shut his eyes.
    Nell Granstrom . Naked. Lying on top of him. They hadn't… Had they? God help him, images wormed their way through the shattering pain behind his eyes. He saw her uniformed ass sticking up between the seats, his hands on it. Him falling on her. Slow hungry kisses. Him on his knees like a horny teenager at a drive-in movie, squeezing her buttocks, slamming into her. And the single best orgasm of his entire life. He did remember that.
    She was apparently frozen in the same frantic effort to remember. Or maybe horror held her paralyzed. He didn't know. Just that all of a sudden she was scrambling to get off him, and to hell with which body parts she damaged on her way.
    "I've got to get dressed," she said in a high frenzied voice. "Where's my bra? Oh, God. Where's my bra?"
    A faint memory of tossing it tickled at him. "Try behind the seat." His voice sounded thick. Tongues needed to be lubricated to do their job.
    She rose above him, and something stirred in him as he took in her long slender body and high, pale breasts. Unfortunately, she saw him looking, and she recoiled as if he were a monster.
    "What are you… Oh!" Hands shaking, she put on the bra, tugged on a shirt, realized it was his and threw it in his face.
    By the time he wrestled free, she was buttoning up her own, hiding the nest of dark blond curls at the juncture of her thighs.
    "Get dressed!" she hissed. "You look … you look like hell!"
    He reached out and fingered a mat in her hair. "Isn't that the pot calling the kettle black?"
    She swatted away his hand. He caught one more forbidden glimpse as she arched to pull on her trousers and panties in one go. "Oh," she groaned. "I'm going to be sick."
    That galvanized him. "Not in here, you're not."
    She got open the door of the Explorer and half fell out into the alley. As