Then, one morning, not many weeks after they first began seeing one another, Cat awoke with the certain knowledge that she was in love with him. She had been from the first day they’d met. It was a fact that she couldn’t deny any longer. His charming good looks and exciting mind had stolen her heart, yet what would come of it? she asked herself. There were far more intriguing women on campus he could have, faculty and students alike. Women more experienced and sophisticated than she, who knew how to play the game of love. Women willing to break the rules for an opportunity to share his bed.
With so many available choices, why would he ever look in her direction?
The amazing fact, to her, was that he had. Or maybe she was reading far too much into their friendship. He had yet to even kiss her.
She had barely arrived at her bookstore one day when there was a knock on the door about an hour before she was due to open. “Hello. Cat?”
It was him. There was no mistaking that voice, his distinctive manner of speaking. Without hesitation, she unlocked the door and let him in.
He was casually dressed, looking absurdly elegant in his relaxed fashion. His short-sleeved blue chambray shirt was open at the neck minus a tie, revealing a sprinkle of black hair, and was tucked into a pair of faded jeans that hugged his slim hips and long legs.
She’d had to fight back the almost overwhelming inclination she had to reach out her hand and open the rest of the buttons to see for herself if that hair covered his entire chest or was just a dusting.
He stood before her, a pleased, triumphant smile on his firm mouth.
“What?” she’d asked in response to that look.
“I needed to do something this morning,” he said, stepping closer to her and closing the door with a firm click. “Something I’ve longed to do for so many weeks that I thought I would explode from the wait.”
Cat was caught by the steely strength of his fingers, which wrapped gently around her upper arms. She was brought quickly into intimate contact with his lean, hard body. His black head dipped and his wickedly beautiful mouth met her own with a searing passion that shook Cat to the core of her being.
Again and again his mouth swept over hers, cajoling, demanding, seeking, persuading. It was a series of messages she couldn’t ignore. Her wildest fantasies were coming true. Cat gave herself up to the hungry possession of his kisses, linking her arms around his neck, holding on and drawing him closer as she willingly surrendered.
“My God,” Rory whispered when he finally broke off the kiss, his breathing ragged. He held her close to his chest, stroking one hand up and down her back in a soothing motion, kissing the top of her head.
Cat could only smile. The dreams she hadn’t dared to hope for were quickly becoming reality.
Rory lifted her chin so that she could see his face. “Can you get away this weekend?”
“What for?” she’d asked, her heart still beating faster than normal.
“I’ve managed to rent a place down the shore. Very nice and quite private, I’ve been told. We’d have the beach all to ourselves. How about it?”
Cat stepped away from his embrace, needing perspective while she thought over his invitation. She understood what he was asking. It was there in his eyes; it had flavored his kisses. Why not go with him? Hadn’t these past weeks shown that she could trust him? He hadn’t pushed their relationship farther than she was comfortable with.
Besides, unable to stop herself from glancing in his direction, she loved him. And loving, she knew, meant eventually expressing that love in the most intimate way possible.
She reached out her hand to take his. “Yes.” With that decision made, Cat realized she had burned her bridges and crossed the threshold.
The look in his dark blue eyes banished any lingering trepidation she felt. “You won’t regret this, Cat.” He kissed her softly and sweetly on her still-swollen mouth. “I promise.”
Four days later Cat inhaled the salt-tinged air as she walked upon the upper deck of the large glass, wood and stone house. She and Rory had spent a relaxing day swimming, sunbathing, and later, shopping in a local antiques store.
The brilliant sun was low in the sky, suspended over the horizon. Snatching up her camera from a nearby chair, Cat snapped a picture, wanting to capture a slice of this day so that she could relive it later, though she suspected that no picture could truly capture what she was feeling.
Happiness bubbled up inside her, threatening to spill over.
The French door that led from the upstairs living room opened, and she heard Rory behind her, welcomed the strong arm that he slid so possessively around her waist. She could feel the heat of his bare chest through her thin cotton tank top. His jeans-clad legs felt hard against the exposed length of hers, covered only in shorts. Slowly, seductively, his left hand curved around her throat, caressing her neck and shoulder.
She wanted to suspend this moment in time. From the open door she could hear the sweet flow of an alto saxophone emanating from the expensive stereo system. She listened, swaying to the soothing, seductive rhythm. A slow sensation of heat arose within her.
When his mouth, sweet with wine, captured hers in a kiss potently powerful, Cat gave in willingly. This was the moment of surrender. Her heart knew it. Her body demanded it.
So did he.
Bending, Rory lifted her in his strong arms, carrying her through the house until he reached the bedroom that had been his alone last night.
He set her down, his lips still locked possessively with hers before he pulled back.
Cat was surprised. She could have easily kissed him for days on end, so exciting was the mating of their mouths.
When Rory finally spoke, his words were delivered in a soft, husky tone. “I want to see all of you, Cat. Now. Will you do that for me?”
The light in the room was beginning to fade. She watched as her lover-to-be slipped into the enveloping shadows while she remained in the glow of the setting sun as it sank in glorious splendor through the windows. Colors streaked the sky, giving her a backdrop touched with the beauty only nature could paint.
Wetting her lips, she took a deep breath. Slowly, she pulled the white top over her head, revealing pale, creamy skin. Next, she reached around and unsnapped her lacy bra, letting it fall to the floor.
A growing sense of power, like a charge of electricity, flowed through her. He was giving her the choice. With a smile, she unzipped her white shorts, peeling them, along with her serviceable white, French-cut panties, down her legs.
Her task done, Cat stood, her back straight, her manner proud.
“Your hair, loosen it,” came the softly spoken command.
Cat removed the clip that held her hair, threading her slender fingers through it, fluffing it around her shoulders. It was thick, wavy, with streaks of gold among the deep auburn tresses.
The room was suddenly flooded with light as Rory turned on the lamp that rested on the nightstand. He’d been sitting in an overstuffed low chair.
He stood, slowly dispensing with his faded denims, letting them fall to his feet. His fingers hooked into the trim blue briefs he wore, pushed them aside.
Her voice sounded strained as her eyes opened wide, riveted by the sight of him. Better than any photograph, more striking than a marble statue, he was, to her, perfection. “I’ve never…” Her words trailed off as he crossed the room.
He cupped her cheek, whispering, “Hush, my sweet love. I know.” Then, gentle