“I know. But what did you think would happen? It was spring break.”
“I know!” My voice had taken on some force because, honestly, I’d been saying the same thing to myself for three years. It was spring break. We were in different schools. There’d never been any future in it. But somehow I’d thought he’d at least try. That he would call me or look me up on Facebook or something. Anything to show that the night had been special to him. That I had been special.
But he hadn’t, and that’s what had hurt the most.
He must have read my expression, because he looked like a kicked puppy. He ducked his head, but not before he showed me his stricken face. “I know I should have called. Explained. Something. But I didn’t know how to do it, and I didn’t want to get messed up again.”
We’d been through this already, and I was a bitch to hold on to it. So I decided not to. Right then and there, I made my choice to forgive him. “A clean break was best.”
His gaze cut back to mine. “That’s what I thought.”
“You were right. I’m just being…” What? “Girly. And I hate that. I’m not a you-done-me-wrong kind of woman.”
He reached out slowly this time. I saw his large hand approach my cheek and I tried to force myself back. I couldn’t do it. I wanted him to touch me again. I wanted to feel his fingers caress my skin. When he finally connected, I released a soft sigh of delight.
“I like that you’re girly,” he said as he stroked up my cheek. “And I did do you wrong.”
“You’re forgiven,” I said. What else was I going to say when I was practically nuzzling his palm? I inhaled his scent, earthy man and Ivory soap. And when I closed my eyes, I remembered the sand and the rumble of the waves.
He stroked his fingers into my hair and tilted my head back. He was going to kiss me. I felt it in the heat on my face and the rapid beat of my heart. He was going to kiss me again, and I’d be right back at spring break, my heart wide open. I couldn’t do that again. I was just pulling back when he did it just like last time. He said the perfect thing and I melted.
“I should never have left.”
And with that, I tumbled. Again.
Chapter Eight
Rob
Don’t screw this up.
That seemed to be the refrain in my life, especially lately. Don’t screw up in the majors. Don’t screw up my at bat. Don’t screw up with the woman I couldn’t forget. And no matter what, don’t screw with the press.
And I was about to do just that. Screw with the press, big time, because the minute I touched her face, I knew I had to kiss her. And once I had my mouth on hers, I wasn’t going to stop.
I tried to hold back. I held my mouth an inch away from hers. I could feel the heat of her breath while the silky strands of her hair brushed my hands. Her eyes were wide, but a moment later, they fluttered closed.
Surrender. She was surrendering to me. And if I had any doubts, the way she arched her neck told me she wanted it as much as I did.
“This is so stupid,” I whispered.
“I know,” she said, the words almost a sigh. God, there was no lie in her. She wasn’t coy or flirty. Not even about this. And I couldn’t believe how much that sweetness turned me on.
I touched my lips to hers. Not a press. Just a barely there touch, and I heard her breath catch. Her hands were on my arms, squeezing my biceps. She hadn’t the strength to make it painful, but how my dick loved the way she pulled me closer.
One last try to keep it sane.
“Once I start, Heidi. I’m not going to stop.”
I knew it the moment she processed my words. Her arms clutched mine, her eyes popped open, and she looked straight at me. But she didn’t speak. Her mouth opened and just froze there. And in her silence, I voiced my greatest regret.
“I was such an idiot. I should have called you.”
She groaned. A rumble of sound that felt torn from her gut. Then before I could react, she slammed her mouth on mine. I tasted the soda she’d been drinking and the hot tang of mustard. I felt the thrust of her tongue against mine and heard my blood rush through my ears. I was out of my chair in a second, arching her back over the table. She wasn’t petite, but compared to me, she was practically weightless. I lifted her up easily, setting her on the table so I could plunder her mouth the way I wanted.
She curled a leg around mine, and her hands gripped my back. I felt the press of her fingertips. Not claws, but hard pressure points that made me maneuver between her knees. It only took one hand to slide up enough of her dress to know she wasn’t wearing panty hose and that her panties were lace.
Then she did something that made my brain explode. Something that ripped my attention away from how close my dick was to her wet heat.
