Page 36 of One Night Years Ago

“I couldn’t sleep.”

He brushed cobwebs from his mind and sat up in bed. The sheet fell to his lap, and he wished he hadn’t taken off his T-shirt. She hesitated for a moment, and he held himself very still.

“Please don’t be scared of me,” he begged.

“I’m not … I’m not scared,” she said quickly. She seemed to taste the words in her mouth for a moment. “I don’t feel uneasy around you. It’s strange but you somehow make me feel safe.”

Tears pinched at the corner of his eyes. He scooted backwards to make space for her, expecting her to sit down next to him, but she surprised him again by climbing in beside him.

He lay back down as close to the wall as possible, forcing himself to stay very still, even as sleep deserted him. She smelled too lovely, and her curves felt … amazing, except for something hard against his arm.

“Sorry. I never took off the handcuffs,” she said, shifting for a moment to unhook them from her belt. She dropped them on the night table, her wriggling making it even harder for him to think of sleep. He grunted softly as she kneed him in the balls on her way back down.

“Shit, stop moving, woman,” he said gruffly, not wanting her to see just how affected he was by her antics. She stopped moving, and he placed his arm around her back and shoulders.

“Why are you still wearing your clothes?”

She shrugged. “I didn’t want to have to go outside in my nightgown if something happened.”

“You can sleep. Nothing’s going to happen.”

And then her eyes were on his. It was too dark to see the color, but he could make out their beautiful almond shape.

He touched her cheek softly with his hands. He just wanted to stroke her skin, to imagine for a moment what it would be like not to carry this enormous baggage, to be able to touch the face of the woman he loved and—

He paused in midair. He couldn’t love Natalie. He could admire her for her bravery, for her selflessness and dedication. He could respect her for how much she’d done for Sharp’s Cove. But he couldn’t love her. She deserved a lot better than the love of the loser he’d become.

And then her head moved forward quickly, past his fingers, until her lips found his lips. And he realized he’d never had a choice. Kissing her came as naturally as breathing. Their lips met, softly exploring each other.

Over the last twelve years, his body had learned that physical contact could only be a bad thing, that it could only bring pain, so he’d started avoiding it. Now, in a single instant, a single moment of pleasure, his body unlearned the behavior of an entire decade.

When her lips opened and her tongue came out shyly, his tongue met her halfway there. The kiss was unlike anything he’d ever known. He felt like he could kiss her forever without asking or demanding anything else. At the same time, the tightness in his jeans made him realize he was at risk of coming in his pants like a teenager.

He ran out of breath before she did and came up briefly for air. Their eyes met again, and in her gaze he found surprise … and desire. He held her at arm’s length for a moment, trying to get control of himself.

“I want you so badly,” he said, caressing her shoulders, the only part of her body he trusted himself to touch.

“I want you too.” Her voice was full of wonder, like she was unsure of her own words.

He wanted nothing more than to let his hands roam freely along her curves. But he didn’t want to hurt her.

“You’re not going to hurt me,” she said, her voice breathless. He realized he’d spoken out loud without meaning to. “I haven’t wanted a man since … since that night. But right now I want you so much.”

He wrestled with his conscience for a moment longer. Then her lips were on his again and all further thoughts of resistance fled his mind. His hands started undressing her of their own volition. She wriggled next to him, helping him undo the buttons of her shirt and pants. Soon, she was in her underwear. Her skin was the softest thing he’d ever touched.

He went to unclip her bra. This time she didn’t help him. Instead, she wriggled away.

“That stays on,” she said, moving his hand towards her panties.

His finger stroked her folds softly, finding her already wet. He spread the moisture around her clit, delighting in her breathy moan. He wished he were more experienced, but his fumbling attempts at sex had happened over a dozen years earlier. He felt like a teenager trapped in a man’s body. Instinct was all he had.

She tightened her hold on his hand, pressing his palm against her pubic bone. Meanwhile, his finger kept exploring rhythmically inside her and around her clit. He brought another finger to the mix, stretching her.

“Oh God, yes, please don’t stop.” Instants later, he felt the pulsing of her sex against his fingers. She collapsed on his shoulder, shaking. He tightened his hold around her shoulders.

“Are you okay?”

“Mildly embarrassed,” she said.