Then his voice trailed off. It took only a few minutes until somehow, in the silence, the heat generated by his hands intensified. The throb of whatever it was between them found expression in his fingers and even though he moved them the same way on her skin, it no longer felt like a decorous massage. His hands felt heavier, her skin almost unbearably warm. She shivered, heart skidding into a faster beat, the sound of Josh’s breath obvious in the silent room.

She shifted a little, back into him, and his lips brushed against her hair, teasing her flesh into goose bumps. Then his mouth moved down the side of her neck and more long and lovely minutes passed as his lips fanned the fire that his hands had started. She closed her eyes when his hands ran down her arms, then all the way down to her waist, meandering, exploring her body and when at last he stroked her breasts, D’Arcy couldn’t bear it anymore.

She spun around to face him, straddling his lap, reaching behind to her zipper, letting her dress puddle at her waist so he could touch her without a screen of fabric between them.

And he did touch her, did bring his hands back to her breasts, running his fingers over her naked skin, tracing a line down from her shoulders before coming to rest on her nipples. She shuddered as his fingers caressed her gently, then harder, and she kissed him to stop herself from crying out at the rush of sensation that was taking over her whole body.

Their kiss deepened to match the intensity of what his hands on her breasts were doing to both of them and he shifted his weight and laid her back on the sofa. He took his mouth away from hers for just a moment to search out her eyes. The way he looked at her made her want to turn her head away, to reach down and pull up her dress to cover herself because she’d never before felt so vulnerable beneath everything that he told her in his gaze.

Which was crazy because just a minute ago she’d been prepared to give him everything. No, that was a lie. She’d been prepared to give him her body. That was all. But she could see in his eyes that he only wanted her body if she was prepared to give him the rest of her: her heart, her mind, her soul.

She had no idea how he read what she was thinking but after just a moment of eye meeting eye, he did what she’d wanted to: reached down and pulled up her dress. He brushed his lips against her forehead, then stood.

“Goodnight, D’Arcy,” he said and in his voice she heard hurt or disappointment—she couldn’t be sure—and she knew it was because she’d just proven herself to be less than he’d hoped she was.

PART SEVEN

Jess

It is awful to die at the end of summer when you are young and have fought a long time… and when you know that the war is won anyhow.