Reaching up, she unbuttoned his shirt exposing his toned, lightly hair chest. Her hands slipped downward, pulling on his belt and unbuttoning his jean... sliding the zipper past the increasing bulge. Those firm hands caressed her back as his lips met hers, he clasped at the waist of her skirt, unsnapping it allowing it to flutter to the floor. Teresa could not believe that this was happening, but his moist wet lips and tongue continued gliding over her neck-gently probing her ear. Sending waves. Never a muscular man, he had always had the wiry, whipcord strength of an athlete, a runner. The past weeks had pared that down to the most basic essence, stripped every ounce of fat from his frame and re-sculpted him. His cheek bones stood out like knife blades from his sunken cheeks and his jaw, always strong, had a chiseled look of weathered stone. His eyes, normally a vibrant green, were dulled with pain and sunken in dark, smudged pits.His fiery locks had been shorn, all except a narrow. More

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