She whimpered softly into his mouth. "We can't," she cried, desperation and desire tearing her apart.	"The hell we can't," he rasped, taking her hand and moving it down his body to where his flesh strained at the fabric of his pants. Her fingers jerked at the contact: then a spasm of pain crossed her pale face, and her hand lingered involuntarily, exploring the dimensions of his arousal. He caught his breath. "Jay, baby, don't' stop me now!
Linda Howard, White Lies
romantic-suspense, romantic-thriller