Page 40 of The Dare

Dive into him, holding him tighter than I ever have and swearing aloud that I’ll never sleep alone again.

Not as long as I live.

Chapter Twelve

Michael

Letting her go back to her friend, spending the night away from me isn’t right. It feels unnatural somehow, but I accept Natasha’s pledge that it’s just for tonight.

Just until we can get off this train.

I understand she wants to be there for her best friend, let her down gently as she gets used to the idea that Natasha’s with me now.

That she won’t have as much time for Suzanna as she might have thought when they got on board to journey home.

I could say I’m okay with it all, but I’d be lying.

I am lying.

Awake and alone. Staring at the low ceiling as my feet hang two feet over the end of the seat that becomes a bed.

Its first class comfort alright, but lacking by more than just a few inches.

Unlike my own body.

Replaying the scene of her near nakedness as I pleasured her with my mouth over and over isn’t helping.

My own arousal is becoming unbearable, well past the point of distraction that I feel my hand straying down my naked body if only to relieve some of the pressure.

There’s no need though.

At the eleventh hour, which is more like one or two a.m. I hear my suite door click open.

The dim light of the corridor against the moonlit suite shows her full figure in the doorway.

If she’s even feeling a fraction of the way I do, she couldn’t sleep either.

She’s come to me because there’s no place left for her to go.

Nothing for either of us to do except one thing.

I lift the covers, and without a word between us, we grip each other like our lives depend on it.

Her mouth over mine is like air to a drowning man.

Her touch is the healing hands that make every ache and pain I’ve ever known vanish.

The softness of her smooth skin against me as I lift her sweater over her head is all I want from now on.

I’d give up everything I own or wanted before today if I could just have this.

This one night with the girl about to become a woman.

My woman.

The thoughts of somewhere special, a five star hotel, or a villa on an island somewhere, disappears once my hands run over her.

Our fingers lock as we kiss, wanting to stay that way but also needing to explore each other’s bodies.