” Heather trembled in his grip. Oh, God, oh, God, I think I’m in trouble! Abruptly, he turned and sat in the room’s only chair, facing her. He tugged her closer. “I want you.” His voice vibrated with unleashed passion. “I need you.” With him seated, their eyes were on the same level. Her traitorous body responded with a sudden and compulsive craving for his touch. He released her arm to capture the back of her head, gently but firmly gripping her by the hair. Her mouth opened to protest. He pulled, bringing her parted lips to his and his tongue swept inside. Waves of hot and hungry desire washed over her and her objections faded into a long moan. She was lost in the firestorm of excitement that swept through her blood screaming in voracious desire. He moaned into her mouth and his arm closed about her waist, his hand cupping her rounded ass. He tipped her toward him. Feeling herself falling, she put her hands on his shoulders and gripped the leather of his vest. His arm. I'm sure he saw his fair share of giraffes. Uncle Milton was a veterinarian par excellence. His specialty was fixing up exotic animals with rare diseases. He worked for some animal conservation group and was always flying to Africa or Borneo or somewhere else exotic. He always joked that it was OK for a lion to eat a gnu, but let one stub his toe and he'd be off on the next plane. And let some native or hunter be involved with it and they'd take a whole planeload of conservationists over.Uncle Milton was Mom's baby brother, and she always looked after him like a mother hen each March 17 when he came to visit us, clucking about how thin he was, forcing food down his throat at every opportunity. It was the one day of the year the animals had to survive by themselves so he could spend the day with us. I guess most would consider him an eligible bachelor. He had a job, some money in the bank and no wives — past or present.He always brought presents for me and Tiffany with an Irish theme..
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