last. If it wasn’t magic, it was the trees, the pond, the earth. It will end, and I would have thrown away something so good.
He released her hands suddenly. “You’re a coward, Serena,” he said, his tone venting his disappointment.
She automatically rubbed her wrists. “I’m a coward because I should drop everything—and run off with you tonight? We could just elope, right? I mean we’re both so sure of this thing—”
Something, a chilling shield, blanked the emotion from his eyes as he stared straight into the darkness. “I’m not a big believer in marriage, Serena. I—”
“Oh, great!” she spat out incredulously, “Now I do have it! Turn my life around so that I can be your summer mistress! What a deal, Dr. O’Neill. Wonderful!”
He turned on her again, and this time his fingers threaded her hair, their touch so pleasing it was painful. “I’m asking you to take a chance, Serena. The same chance I’m taking. I can’t give you guarantees—anymore than you can give them to me! At least act honestly. I went into Boston that night to end things, Serena. I didn’t know if I would ever see you again, but being with you was enough for me to know that I couldn’t continue with a relationship that offered less than what we had—as strangers!” His grip on her hair tensed, then relaxed slightly as he groaned. One hand remained tangled in her hair, the other slid down her back, pressing her to him. His face burrowed against her neck, and she almost cried out with the fire that swept her flesh just with the touch of his breath. Then his lips caressed the bare skin, a brand that seared all memory, all argument from her mind. A soft moan escaped her, and she brought her arms around him, feeling the clean cut of the soft hair at the nape of his neck. Dizziness eclipsed everything as she clung to him. Fever and weakness overcame her as his teeth grazed her throat and the lobe of her ear, sending wave after wave of jolting fire down her spine. She loved the play of her fingers over his shoulders, his back. He was so rigid, so tense, yet so hot and alive beneath the touch of her fingertips.
“Justin,” she breathed, and it was a lost cry; she was aware only that it felt wonderful and right to say his name.
It was incredible that he could hold her completely in the confines of the sports car, but she felt melded to him.
I will promise anything, she thought deliriously.
His mouth found hers, softly. He drew a moist whisper of a pattern with the tip of his tongue about her lips. He kissed her eyelids, and then his lips returned to hers hungrily, parting them, devouring them, only to draw away again to taste the flesh near them, making her reach in return to seek his mouth with the tip of her tongue … and again be consumed.
“I need you,” he murmured, his mouth still against hers, and it was as if the world itself had been obscured. At that moment she had no idea of where she was, nor did she care. With him it didn’t matter. There was a plane above all else. It burned like a raging fire, but it was a place of clouds, where all was filled with blazing light, where tempest still meant security. It was where she had always been meant to be; almost as if she had been there before … as if she knew …
It was all in his arms, and she held to him in that plane, arching as he touched her, loving his demanding hands upon her back, massaging her breast, cradling her throat with tenderness so his lips could more fully find her. And as she drifted in that plane, she thought vaguely that no matter how absurd a thought it might be, she loved him.
In one aspect he had been wrong. All her life she had been waiting for him. Even the gentle love she had shared in marriage had been but a step to this point. She loved him. … It was instant recognition.
A soft whimpered sigh escaped her as his fingers ran down her spine. And then she suddenly found herself untouched; he released her and shifted his body fully
He released her hands suddenly. “You’re a coward, Serena,” he said, his tone venting his disappointment.
She automatically rubbed her wrists. “I’m a coward because I should drop everything—and run off with you tonight? We could just elope, right? I mean we’re both so sure of this thing—”
Something, a chilling shield, blanked the emotion from his eyes as he stared straight into the darkness. “I’m not a big believer in marriage, Serena. I—”
“Oh, great!” she spat out incredulously, “Now I do have it! Turn my life around so that I can be your summer mistress! What a deal, Dr. O’Neill. Wonderful!”
He turned on her again, and this time his fingers threaded her hair, their touch so pleasing it was painful. “I’m asking you to take a chance, Serena. The same chance I’m taking. I can’t give you guarantees—anymore than you can give them to me! At least act honestly. I went into Boston that night to end things, Serena. I didn’t know if I would ever see you again, but being with you was enough for me to know that I couldn’t continue with a relationship that offered less than what we had—as strangers!” His grip on her hair tensed, then relaxed slightly as he groaned. One hand remained tangled in her hair, the other slid down her back, pressing her to him. His face burrowed against her neck, and she almost cried out with the fire that swept her flesh just with the touch of his breath. Then his lips caressed the bare skin, a brand that seared all memory, all argument from her mind. A soft moan escaped her, and she brought her arms around him, feeling the clean cut of the soft hair at the nape of his neck. Dizziness eclipsed everything as she clung to him. Fever and weakness overcame her as his teeth grazed her throat and the lobe of her ear, sending wave after wave of jolting fire down her spine. She loved the play of her fingers over his shoulders, his back. He was so rigid, so tense, yet so hot and alive beneath the touch of her fingertips.
“Justin,” she breathed, and it was a lost cry; she was aware only that it felt wonderful and right to say his name.
It was incredible that he could hold her completely in the confines of the sports car, but she felt melded to him.
I will promise anything, she thought deliriously.
His mouth found hers, softly. He drew a moist whisper of a pattern with the tip of his tongue about her lips. He kissed her eyelids, and then his lips returned to hers hungrily, parting them, devouring them, only to draw away again to taste the flesh near them, making her reach in return to seek his mouth with the tip of her tongue … and again be consumed.
“I need you,” he murmured, his mouth still against hers, and it was as if the world itself had been obscured. At that moment she had no idea of where she was, nor did she care. With him it didn’t matter. There was a plane above all else. It burned like a raging fire, but it was a place of clouds, where all was filled with blazing light, where tempest still meant security. It was where she had always been meant to be; almost as if she had been there before … as if she knew …
It was all in his arms, and she held to him in that plane, arching as he touched her, loving his demanding hands upon her back, massaging her breast, cradling her throat with tenderness so his lips could more fully find her. And as she drifted in that plane, she thought vaguely that no matter how absurd a thought it might be, she loved him.
In one aspect he had been wrong. All her life she had been waiting for him. Even the gentle love she had shared in marriage had been but a step to this point. She loved him. … It was instant recognition.
A soft whimpered sigh escaped her as his fingers ran down her spine. And then she suddenly found herself untouched; he released her and shifted his body fully
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