Beverly Barton 3 Book Bundle. BEVERLY BARTON

her, to be on top of him and able to maneuver her body for the greatest sensation. She rode him hard and fast. And when she came, she cried out her satisfaction. A minute later, Raymond came, all the while kissing her like crazy.

      “I love you, Robyn. I’ve always loved you.”

      As she floated back to reality, the aftershocks of release rippling through her, she slid off him and cuddled to his side. “Oh, Raymond, you’re so sweet.”

      Abby loved the look on Reverend Donaldson’s face when she answered the door in a pair of leave-little-to-theimagination short pj’s.

      “I … uh … I thought you were expecting me.” He gulped several times.

      She reached out, grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and dragged him over the threshold. “I was expecting you.” She twirled around and threw out her arms. “Like what you see?”

      “Mrs. Miller, I—”

      “Please, call me Abby.” She laid her hand over his heart and smiled wickedly. “It’s all right if I call you Matthew, isn’t it? Or do you prefer Matt?”

      His face splotched an unbecoming reddish pink and sweat dotted his upper lip and forehead. “Matthew is fine. But Mrs.—”

      “Abby.”

      “Yes, well, Abby, I’ve come here at your mother-in-law’s request and obviously none too soon. She’s been concerned about you. Glenda is afraid that temptations of the flesh might overpower you while your husband is away fighting for our country.”

      Abby slowly lowered her hand down over his chest, stopping at his belt. He cleared his throat. She laughed.

      “It’s so sweet of Glenda to be concerned and wonderfully understanding of her to send you over here to take care of me.” Abby eased her hand down over his crotch and grinned when she felt his semihard erection.

      He gasped loudly. “You misunderstand, Mrs. Miller … Abby. Please, for pity’s sake—”

      Cupping him, she massaged him with her thumb. When she stood on tiptoe and pressed her lips against his, she thought he might faint dead away. Instead, he grabbed her shoulders, held her tightly and kissed her. His movements were awkward and rough, exposing him for the novice at lovemaking he obviously was. In a way, she felt sorry for the poor guy and almost regretted having played such a dirty trick on him.

      She had to end this before it went any further. But before she called a halt, he released her abruptly, jerked back and gulped down tears.

      “Please, forgive me. I—I don’t know what came over me. I assure you—”

      “It’s okay. Really. It was all my fault. I deliberately seduced you. I’m sorry.”

      “No, no, please, Abby, don’t apologize. I’m terribly embarrassed.”

      “Don’t be,” she told him. “Look, no harm done. We can both blame my mother-in-law, the nosy, interfering old busybody.”

      “She’s deeply concerned about your cheating on her son. If you could just reassure her that you’re being faithful to your husband—”

      “If I do that, Reverend, I’d be lying.”

      “Are you saying that you—”

      “We all have our dirty little secrets, don’t we?” She winked at him.

      He gulped again.

      “You keep my secret and I’ll keep yours,” she said.

      “And we’ll both burn in hell.”

      “You think you’ll burn in hell because of one little kiss?”

      He shook his head. “I lusted after you in my heart. I still lust after you.”

      “Do you now?”

      “Thinking a thing is as bad as doing it.”

      “Well, if that’s the case, then why don’t you stay?”

      When she tried to touch him, he held up his hands to fend her off. “No.”

      She reached around him and opened the door. “Then good night, Matthew, and thank you for stopping by. Come back anytime you’re in the neighborhood.”

      He turned and practically ran from her, onto the porch and down the sidewalk. She slammed the door and laughed. Poor fool. He’d probably rush home and jerk off as quick as he could. Wonder if jerking off is a sin? Probably. But not as big a sin as screwing a married woman.

      Twilight shadows danced across the backyard, over trees and shrubbery, across flowers and grass. As she headed out the kitchen door, balancing three glasses of lemonade on a small plastic tray, Bernie flipped the switch that turned on the back porch light. True to his promise to move back in with Jim, Kevin had returned to his father’s duplex apartment four days ago and from what she could tell, the two were getting along okay. Keeping her end of the bargain, she had invited Jim and Kevin to dinner at her house this evening. They’d eaten supper nearly an hour ago, but had just finished cleaning up in the kitchen and feeding Boomer a few minutes ago. Kevin had taken Boomer outside to play, while Jim carried lawn chairs out into the yard, where he and Bernie could sit and talk.

      When she approached Jim, he reached over and took the tray from her and placed it on the third chair, which was empty since Kevin was busy chasing Boomer all over the yard.

      “Sit down and rest,” Jim said. “You have to be tired after putting in a full day at the office, and then cooking us a great supper.”

      When Bernie sat, Jim picked up one of the glasses off the tray and handed it to her, then took one for himself before sitting.

      While watching Kevin frolicking with Boomer, Bernie took a sip of the sweetly tart lemonade. “Kevin needs a dog of his own.”