Serengeti Heat (12 page)

“This is also in my way,” he said, a hint of annoyance in his tone.

Her fingers crushed the thin fabric of his tee. Not that he noticed that, either. He was otherwise occupied. His brow furrowed, his eyes intently focused on her face.

The backs of two of his fingers skimmed against the dampened curls of her mound. She bit her lower lip to keep from screaming in frustration. They’d barely started and yet she was on the verge of falling apart. Thank God for the solid tree trunk at her back.

“Let go, sweetheart.”

All too familiar words whispered across the shadows. She groaned softly and shook her head. Her body trembled with the need to find release and yet—

And yet she was close. So close she could swear that this time his fingers would finish the job before she woke from the dream.

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