Her back arch and her hips bucked forward, against his hand and his probing fingers. It was so easy to give into this physical want and need, to feel something good and right with Rory--let their sexual chemistry wash away the harsh pain of the rest of their relationship.

Pippa whimpered at his touch, held his head to her breast and focused on the feel of his teeth and tongue against her hardened nipple. Right then, she felt as hot and fluid as the mass of red glass in the other room, as easily molded and shaped by Rory's hands and mouth as re Russo had been forged from her imagination.

We're not avoiding anything at all, Pippa convinced herself as her breath caught and her hand tightened in his hair. We're only making it right. At last.