“Yes.”
“Well, you know what?” I step closer still. “I don’t care. I still want you to be my first.”
He says nothing.
I begin to count on my fingers. “You aren’t currently in a relationship. I’m offering a night of passion with no strings attached. You want me.”
Still no comment.
Suddenly doubtful, I peer into his eyes. “Or has the mess I’m in killed your desire?”
“God, Stella!” He lifts his eyes to the ceiling.
I wait, holding my breath.
When he lowers his gaze to me, it’s darker than before, hotter. “I’ve never wanted a woman the way I want you. Ever.”
“Oh.” I feel like I might soar into the air with joy. “Good.”
“No, not good. There’s nothing good about it.”
Stubborn man!
I try another angle. “If we make love tonight, it’ll help me get over my obsession with you and move on.”
He takes a moment to consider my new argument, his face reflecting his inner struggle.
“Maybe it’s the way,” he says at length. “Maybe once it’s done, you can put me behind you, like you did with your blob of a fiancé… I’ll become a thing of your past, a blurry memory.”
Never!
He continues soft-soaping himself on my behalf, “And then you can look forward to your future. Start your new job, make new friends, meet other men—men your age—date them, travel, try new things, live your life to the full!”
“Or maybe I’ll go straight to a nunnery with my heart in pieces.”
He knits his eyebrows.
Shit!That was a true slip, the thingnotto say at this crucial juncture, just as he was caving.
“I’m kidding!” I give him a fake little laugh. “It was a joke, Darrel.”
He narrows his eyes, as if to assess my contradictory statements and pick the one he’ll go with.
Enough dithering!Resolutely, I take another step, reach up and wrap my arms around his strong neck.
He remains immobile. I press my mouth to his, rediscovering the feel and taste of his lips.Ahh.My hands find their way into his thick, wavy hair. And then, finally, he moves. His hands cup my face, sending delightful shivers down my spine. He pulls me closer, as close as two human beings can be with their clothes still on.
Boy, I love being so close to him, touching him, being touched!
Our tongues begin exploring and savoring each other’s mouths. Darrel’s hands slide from my face down to my back. I gasp at how good it is to feel his warmth, his strength against my body. His masculine scent envelops me.
If Paradise exists, then this is it.
My fingers continue to tangle themselves in his hair as his tongue pushes deeper into my mouth. It grows bolder, more insistent, more demanding. And I welcome that!The more he takes, the more I want to give. The more Imustgive. It’s exhilarating. I’m aroused to the point of climbing on him and rubbing myself against his rod.
Alas, I’m too chicken to do that. It doesn’t help that I have no idea if normal women do that sort of thing, and how a normal man would react to it.
But, God, I want more, so much more!
