He ran his hand the length of her rib cage, letting it rest on the curve of her hip. She tilted her face toward him and he kissed her, lightly, playfully. The kiss grew more serious, but he held back, seducing her slowly. He skimmed kisses along the side of her neck and told her he loved her. His hands were gentle as they ranged over her, heating the skin beneath her clothes. He kissed her again, deeper this time, teasing her with his tongue. The kisses were long and intoxicating, filled with love and promising passion. He felt her hands flatten on his chest, felt her press against him. He fought to move slowly but control was slipping away. He noticed with some satisfaction that her control had already completely evaporated.

He lowered her shorts slowly, inch by inch, his mouth following his hands, kissing and caressing. He felt her fingers curl into his shirt. He was half crazy with wanting her, but he continued methodically, searching for the most sensitive places, memorizing the way she liked to be touched.

Clothes were discarded entirely and he allowed himself a moment to study her. She was pretty, he thought. And she was his. This had to be the result of all those years of meditating with his grandfather and trying to control his cussing. God had finally rewarded him.

He brought her to climax and then he followed.

When Daisy’s breathing was almost normal she opened her eyes. Steve had shifted slightly to the side and was watching her. “I’m glad I didn’t jump,” she said. “Do you still love me?”

“I will love you forever and ever.”

She sighed in contentment and walked her fingers across his stomach until she found what she was looking for.

“Whoa,” he said, “what are you doing?”

“You’re not tired, are you?”

“I could use a few more minutes.”

She looked at the watch on her wrist. “I’ll give you ten, and then it’s my turn. This next time we’re going to see what kind of patience you have.”

Daisy slowly drove the black sports car the short distance between her town house and Steve’s colonial, pulled into his driveway, and parked beside his new Hummer. She dragged herself from the car and walked bone-weary to the door. By the time she got there she was sick, her stomach rolling with each step she took. She hammered on the door and almost collapsed with relief when he answered with his cup of morning coffee still in his hand. Her eyes were large and teary, her blond bangs dark with perspiration. She knocked him aside with a sweep of her arm. “Get out of my way,” she cried, staggering toward the powder room. “I’m going to be sick!”