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Some-when Else
Caitlyn’s eyes flew open wide as a warm mouth closed over the puckered tip of her breast, sending her body rocketing into the stratosphere. She arched, trying to focus, driving away the bewilderment. Her confusion retreated as she concentrated.
Not Alex.
Alex had never touched her breasts with his lips, never teased the tip with his hot mouth. And the fingers inside her were longer, surer and so so much more skilled. The forearm clutched by her desperate palm was thicker, stronger and more powerful. An outdoorsman, not an academic. Beneath her seeking, trembling hand, the hair she stroked was thick and curling, not straight and short and bristly.
She felt like a cheat. Like some shameless, adulterous whore, imagining how devastated Alex would have been to know she’d been with another man, pretending to herself that it was him. How crestfallen would Duke be to know she was dreaming of herself with her long-lost husband?
“Duke, I—.” she gasped, then arc
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