WidowsWalk Read Free Page B

the
others. “Sometimes the cell works near land but I can usually pick up
messages in port. Email is always good.” He added a quick wink and Lindy
smiled. Tom watched as that smile went from puzzled to embarrassed in a few
seconds.
    “Whatever will I do without you?” she said, falling into a
fake swoon against the railing.
    Tom watched her back arch and her breasts rise toward the
sky. Her chest was heaving and her legs parted slightly to hold her balance.
Tom could feel his cock stirring and reached a hand beneath her back. Lifting
her into his arms, he heard a small whimper as their bodies connected.
    Her lips parted, pushing out shallow puffs of air and Tom
took it as an invitation, capturing them between his own. He kissed her softly
at first, waiting for her surrender. When her arms encircled his neck, he
slipped his tongue inside her mouth. Kissing her deeply, he drew the breath
from her lungs until she broke away, gasping for air.
    “See you, Miss Belinda Ann Reddington of America.”
    “See you, Captain.” And with that, he was gone again.

Chapter Three
     
    Lindy sat in an old wicker rocker for some time after Tom
left. The sound of laughter floated from the beach and she closed her eyes,
feeling the warmth of the sun on her face. People on the beach were enjoying
the warmth of the sunny day. The gulls swooped and dove, trying to share the
sunbathers’ picnic lunches, and the maritime smell of fish and seawater clung
to the onshore breeze and everything in its path.
    Lindy giggled like a child then shook her head. She was
ridiculously happy and that worried her. She had just managed to rein in her
emotions from their last encounter. It was just a kiss, she thought as she
sipped her iced tea. Daydreaming was not going to help her meet her deadline or
get this house in order. Shaking off her lethargy, she headed in and grabbed
her laptop. She had a book due in less than a month and was only halfway done.
Her editor was patient but Lindy liked to be on time. Taking it onto the porch had
seemed like a good idea but the sparkling crystal-like drops of water glinting
off the sea were distracting her, so she snapped the lid shut on her laptop and
went inside to make supper.
    * * * * *
    The day hung wearily on Lindy’s shoulders and as she soaked
in a hot bath later that night she let the heat and her weariness carry her to
a peaceful place. She wondered if Tom had left yet, if there might still be a
chance he would stop by and wrap his arms around her. She floated on the
daydream until she worried she would drift off then hoisted her relaxed body
from the tub and toweled off.
    Heading to her bedroom for her robe, she saw Tom’s shirt
hanging over a chair. She gathered the soft cotton in her hands. She couldn’t
resist burying her nose in the worn fabric. It smelled of the sea and of a man
and something else Lindy couldn’t quite put her finger on. It smelled like Tom.
    Remembering his kiss, Lindy shuddered and a tingle rose from
somewhere deep inside. She stroked her hands over the t-shirt, feeling her nipples
harden against the cotton.
    The shirt came to her knees and she gathered it together and
pressed it against her tender sex, hoping to stop the ache and to mop up the
trickle of moisture. All she wanted was for him to kiss her again. She stared
out the window into the early darkness hoping—wishing—to see him walking up the
beach.
    Lindy closed her eyes and imagined Tom’s face. She could
smell him all around her. Feel the heat of his skin pressed close to hers, his
arms around her waist. She let the fantasy take her and she leaned into the
protection of his embrace.
    Her nipples were hard, the soft cotton pulled tightly
against them, rubbing until they ached with urgent need. In her imagination she
could feel his hands sliding up— cupping her breasts, squeezing, his palms warm
against the peaking nubs. She groaned and moved her hips, searching for the imaginary
hardness of his erection. She needed