Page 40 of Modern Romance November 2024 5-8

He removed his jacket from her and kissed her shoulder, as he had in the courtyard, and instead of opening the French doors she turned around.

‘Are you nervous?’ he asked.

She considered his question, then she turned clear blue eyes to him. ‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘I’m...’

She swallowed, because this felt so right, so perfect, that something told her it could only ever have been him. It was as if last weekend’s date and every dreadful date she’d walked away from before had been mere signposts that had turned her away and somehow led her to a place she felt she perfectly belonged.

‘I feel happy.’

‘So do I.’

He brought her back into his embrace, as if they were dancing again, though he pulled her closer than he previously had, and his cheek was next to hers. This time she allowed her skin to rest on his and breathed him in. She closed her eyes as his mouth moved as she had wanted it to on the dance floor. It created a warm path to her lips, and she parted them.

His kiss was different from the one in the courtyard. There, she had felt restraint...now it was warm and slow. She wasn’t fighting the feelings he evoked, just letting them ripple through her. Feeling the silk of his hair beneath her fingers and how her breasts ached as her arms reached behind him...how his hands on her hips guiding her in made her feel warm and aching down below.

So much so that she moaned into his mouth and briefly pulled back. ‘Turns out I do like kissing.’

He smiled and got back to her mouth, and just for a moment he lost concentration. For it had dawned on him that he hadn’t particularly been a fan of kissing either...

Or of feeling happy.

Until this night...

They stood staring at each other, mouths almost together, exchanging the sensual air. He touched the top of her arm and stroked it.

His touch made her hungry...it made her weak, it made her bold. She did something she never had before. She kissed his neck...ran her mouth over the scratchy throat that had been so smooth just hours ago. It made her desperate to see it dark and shadowed and rough in the morning.

‘Careful,’ he warned.

‘I don’t want to be careful,’ she whispered, breathing into his sexy ear.

He adored every word, every moment, every taste of her skin and the feel of her awakening to him. He loved feeling her desire building and, yes, he wanted to be her first.

There were not enough hours in the night to do all that he wanted, but he wanted more of that laughter, more of everything...

There would be no sleeping tonight.

He wanted her shoes on his floor. He wanted her earrings by his bed, her perfume on his pillow and traces of her everywhere.

Taking her hand, he led her to the principal bedroom.

The covers were turned back, the side lamps on, and he removed her earrings very carefully.

‘They’re not expensive,’ she said, because he was treating them with such care, placing them neatly by the bed.

And he wasn’t shy either, because he went to the bedside table and saw her swallow as he took out some condoms and then lifted the lid on a small container.

‘What’s that?’ she asked.

‘Oil.’

‘For me or you?’

‘Both.’

She dipped in her fingers and the fragrance was like every season condensed on her fingers, so subtle.

‘I don’t think I need it,’ she whispered, and he was aware of her own arousal. ‘And as for them...’ She pointed at the condoms. ‘I’m on the pill. Or do you always use them?’

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