Page 70 of Mistaken Intention

“Sure.”

I get up, brushing grass from my jeans and wander over to her, adjusting the camera setting so we can view the pictures on the screen.

“You knew how to do that?” she says, looking up at me.

“It seems so.”

I hold the camera between us, our heads bent together, and I scroll through the images. In the first one, she’s looking right at me, and I swear to God, there’s something in her eyes that isn’t sadness. I don’t know what it is, though, and I can’t read too much into a single photograph. In the second and third images, her head is tilted, although the look is still there. Then I move on, hearing Josie’s gasp when she sees the fourth shot. I don’t blame her. She looks even better than I thought she would… and as for the next one…

“Oh, my God.”

“What?” I turn to look at her. She’s staring at me, her eyes wide, her lips slightly parted.

“How did you do that? How did you know that one would be better than the last? You didn’t look at them at all while you were taking them… so how did you know?”

“Instinct, I guess.”

“Instinct?” she says.

“Yes. You haven’t told me if I’m a professional photographer, but I think I might be.”

“Is that a memory, or a question?”

“I didn’t ask a question. I stated a fact… or at least a thought,” I say, holding up the camera, although I don’t take my eyes from hers. “It’s like I know what I’m doing with this, which is more than I can say for you.”

“I’m not gonna deny it. I don’t know the first thing about cameras.”

I shake my head. “No, you don’t understand. I meant, I don’t know what I’m doing with you. You’ve bewitched me, body and soul, Josie, and sometimes I feel like you’re the only solid foundation I’ve got. Then, at other times, I feel like you’ve cast me off… left me drifting. Except I’m not strong enough to survive. Not by myself. I don’t even know if you like me…”

“I like you,” she says and I suck in a breath, stepping a little closer to her.

“You do?”

“Yes.”

“In what way? I mean… do you like me as a fellow human being? Or do you like me as a man who’s told you he’s longing to be inside you? There’s a difference, Josie – even I know that – and I need to understand it. I need to understand you.” She doesn’t say a word, but continues to stare at me, blinking once or twice, looking lost herself. “You see… this is where it getscomplicated for me. When you go silent on me like this, I don’t know what to do or what to think.”

I lower the camera to my side and move closer still, so there’s maybe an inch of space between us. I can feel her breath mingling with mine, even though time has stood still… for both of us, I think. The lost look on her face is worrying, but she hasn’t stepped back. I know I could take her silence as rejection yet again, but this doesn’t feel like rejection… not this time. It feels like she doesn’t know what to do.

So maybe I should do it for her… and if I’m wrong, she’ll stop me.

Right?

I have to be right, because there’s no way I can step back, and we can’t just stand here forever.

“Oh, to hell with it.”

I grab the back of her neck, holding her still, and I bend my head, covering her lips with mine. She lets out a very slight yelp, and although I half expect her to pull back, she doesn’t, and I take advantage of the moment to explore her with my tongue. Her yelp becomes a moan, and then a sigh, and as I whisper her name into her mouth, I put my other arm around her waist, pulling her closer. I’m still holding the camera, but that doesn’t stop me from crushing her body to mine, letting her feel my arousal. She sighs again, a little louder, and her fingers creep up my arms, her hands resting on my biceps, like she’s clinging on… like she needs me.

Oh, please… let that be true.

Chapter Eight

Josie

There are so many reasons I shouldn’t let this happen, but none of them seem to matter now his lips are on mine. I can’t help my slight squeal of surprise, or the moan that echoes through my body as his tongue delves into my mouth, searching and inquisitive. He’s more demanding than I’d expected, but I like that. I like his self-assurance. It suits my uncertainties, cancelling them out. At least, that’s how it feels. He murmurs my name, without breaking the kiss, and then I feel his arm come around behind me, encircling my waist and pulling me closer to him, our bodies pressed together. He doesn’t move his hips, but I can feel his erection… long and hard, and oh, so tempting. I remember how it looked and I sigh at the thought that this is what I do to him… that he wants me, maybe even needs me enough to respond like this. I let my fingers dust up his arms, bringing my hands to rest on his biceps. They flex and I hang on, my body trembling as he deepens the kiss still further. I want him so much, even though there’s a small voice in the back of my head, telling me, over and over, that this is a truly bad idea. But how can that be so?

Because he doesn’t know who he is yet… let alone who you are.

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