In Heaven's Arms by Persephone Jones

A Finding Love-Memorial Day themed book.

Heat Rating: Fire

Content Warning: Explicit male/female sex scenes.

Two wounded hearts find healing over the Memorial Day weekend.

"So, how much do I..."

He took a step toward her and took her by the hand, his black coffee eyes simmering with intensity. In a second, she knew his intentions. Without saying a word, his eyes roamed the features of her face, down her chest, her body, all the way to her feet and back up again.

Her heart started beating double-time. He led her into the back of the shop to what appeared to be a dimly lit break room of some sort, equipped with a table, a black leather couch, a few chairs and a kitchenette. The most important thing she noticed however was they were completely alone.

Koal placed her hand on his chest and took hold of her at the waist. "C'm here."

"I shouldn't b--"

This was wrong on so many levels. What was she doing? First hugging a stranger in the cemetery, stripping down to her underwear for the same stranger, letting him give her a tattoo. Never mind what went on inside her head...

She watched his head tilt slightly to the side as his face descended toward hers. Upon feeling the soft strength of his mouth, she closed her eyes and let his kiss take her over. This was the kind man from the cemetery. The man who'd held her while she fell apart. Koal. When she opened her heavy eyelids he was looking at her, searching for a reaction. A reaction she couldn't decide on. Truly, she didn't know whether to slap him, cry or both. All she did know was that she wanted him to kiss her again.

Miraculously her lips gravitated to his as if pulled in by some unseen magnetic force. They kissed again, this time when their lips met it was deeper and more wanton, their tongues lashing at each other as if in combat.

She resisted under the force of his desire and pulled ever so slightly away from him to catch her breath, planting the heels of her hands squarely on his shoulders. "You called me a name while I was in the chair."

Heavy-lidded, he swallowed visibly. "Mm--anela. It means angel."

Painting her jawbone and neck with kisses, he hooked his fingers under the thin waistband of her red lace panties and eased them down her legs, gentle as a feather. She met his gaze and watched him pause for telltale signs of objection that she had neither the strength nor the will power to give.

She didn't stop him because she couldn't.