“I see,” he said.
“But when I realized I could trust you and that you trusted me, I stopped worrying about impulse and went straight to intuition. In the end, trust is what matters. Well, and honor and decency, of course. But they are all linked, aren’t they?”
“I guess?”
“Unfortunately, it’s impossible to know that those qualities exist in another individual until you really get to know them. And even then, one must make allowances for human nature, because no one is perfect, right? Therefore, when it comes to making the decision to love, a leap of faith is involved.”
“You think falling in love is a decision?”
“Oh, yes. The Ballantine Method is very clear on that. Sexualattraction is driven by emotion and biological imperatives. The decision to love requires a conscious commitment.”
She was now obsessed with the need to make him understand that what she felt for him was true love.
“One could say that choosing to love is a calculated risk,” she continued. And stopped for a beat because she was pretty sure she was starting to flail. She took a deep breath, centered herself, and rushed on to the finish. “What I’m trying to say is, given my weird upbringing and potentially lethal talent, are you sure you want to take the risk of loving me?”
“I’ve been sure since the moment I opened up a psi profile on you,” he said.
The words were spoken in such a quiet, steady, unshakable way that she almost cried. She flung herself into his arms instead. He staggered a step under the impact, recovered swiftly, and then wrapped his arms around her. His mouth came down on hers in what she sensed was meant to be a kiss of promise and commitment. AnI’m in this foreverkiss.
A deep, abiding tide of joy and certainty welled up inside her. This was true intuition, she thought.
One of his hands moved slowly down to the curve of her hip and tightened gently. His low groan of sensual pleasure supercharged the kiss with a searing sexuality. She gripped his shoulders with both hands and plastered herself against him, seeking the thrilling sensation of his strength and the pressure of his erection thrusting against his trousers. She loved knowing she could inspire such a fierce physical response in him.
He walked her backward toward the bed. When she felt the edge of the mattress against her legs, he paused, reached down, and yanked the covers aside.
They set about undressing each other, at first taking their time and then with increasing haste. In the end, they were fighting each other to get their clothes out of the way.
Naked, they fell onto the bed entangled in each other’s arms and legs. Owen moved his lips to her throat and then to her breasts. His hand slipped between her thighs, cupping her heated core. She could feel the dampness gathering there, and when he swore in a soul-deep voice, she knew she was driving him toward the edge.
Glorying in her power, she planted one palm against his chest and pushed. At first he did not move, did not even notice that she was attempting to maneuver him onto his back. He raised his head and looked down at her with heated eyes.
“Am I hurting you?”
“No.” She pushed again.
This time he got the message. Smiling a deliciously wicked smile, he obediently rolled onto his back. She levered herself up on one elbow and began to caress him experimentally, searching for the most sensitive places. There was no problem finding them. He reacted to every touch. His half-closed eyes got hotter and his muscles became mag-steel bands.
When she cradled the heavy spheres at the base of his erection in one hand, he took a sharp breath and gripped her arm, gently but firmly easing her fingers away.
“I need to be inside you,” he rasped.
“I can work with that,” she whispered.
He started to laugh, but the laugh turned into another groan. He sank his fingers into her bare calf and tugged it across his thighs, positioning her astride his erection.
She took him slowly, cautiously. An inch. His jaw and the rest of him was rigid now. The realization that he was having to fight so hard to keep from losing control was intoxicating. She savored the knowledge.
“The Ballantine Academy teaches that delayed gratification greatly enhances sexual satisfaction,” she said in her best academic tones. “There are certain exercises that are designed to improve performance. Recitingthe Core Principles during coitus is one of several proven techniques. Repeat after me—”
She broke off on a tiny screech because Owen abruptly gripped her hips.
“That’s enough of the Core Principles,” he said. “I’m not much of a theory guy. I prefer hands-on practice.”
She started to laugh, delighted that she had won the game, but the laugh turned into a gasp when he fitted himself to her and guided her relentlessly downward until he was fully sheathed.
She took a few seconds to let her body adjust to the exciting sensation of having him deep inside, savoring the proof of his desire and the giddy knowledge that she was capable of such passion.
“The Ballantine Method stresses the need for practice in any important endeavor,” she managed in a husky voice.
