Chapters (27)
All at once, he tore his lips free, grabbed her hand and headed for the path. And then they were running, laughing, breathless. Sydney slid on the dew that had collected on the grass and stumbled. He caught her and twisted to cushion her fall. They landed in a hard thump with her on top of him, encased in strong arms.
“Are you okay?” she asked, still breathing hard.
His fingers tunneled into her hair, drawing her into another kiss. “Better than I’ve been in seventeen years.”
“Luke. . .”
“Kiss me, Syd.”
Right there on the lawn under the moon they made out like the teenagers they’d once been, but with the wisdom of knowing how precarious life and love and desire could be.
Even though she burned for him, he did nothing more than kiss her and hold her and whisper sweet words in her ear that sent more goose bumps to her arms and legs and everywhere in between.
He kissed her as if he’d never get enough, and then he shifted them so she was under him. His kiss slowed from wild and unrestrained to gentle and sweet, which was no less powerful. Sprinkling kisses on her face, eyelids, nose and lips, he looked down at her. “This wasn’t what I was thinking when I suggested something more comfortable.”
She caressed the cheek he’d made smooth for her. “Works for me.”
“Mmm,” he said against her lips. “Me, too.”
“I should probably go home,” she said many minutes later.
“Probably,” he said but made no move to let her up.
Feeling brazen and full of her own power, Sydney slid her hands under his T-shirt and stroked the warm, soft skin on his back.
He trembled and pushed his erection into the V of her legs. “I told myself I shouldn’t rush you,” he said, his lips light against her neck, “that we should go slow and take our time, but God, Syd, I want you. I’ve never stopped wanting you.”
“I want you, too. I hope you know that. I just. . . I don’t think. . .”
He kissed her gently, a light touch of his lips to hers. “You’re not ready.”
She shook her head. “I’m sor—”
“Don’t apologize. Please don’t.” More soft, sweet kisses. “We’ve got the rest of the summer.”
Sydney closed her eyes, content for the first time since her life had been shattered, content to let him surround her with his warmth, his comfort, his overwhelming appeal and yes, his love. She had no doubt he still loved her. It was in every look, every touch, every kiss.
“I’m going home after Labor Day,” she reminded him.
“I know.” He trailed kisses from her collarbone to her ear. “Tomorrow night,” he said. “We’ll go out to dinner.”