“Maybe so. But I still should have said something. Done something.”
She leaned toward him, the intensity of her gaze making his temperature edge up a few degrees. “Do you really want to make it up to me?”
He swallowed. “Of course.”
She angled closer, her knees brushing his. “I’ve decided I’ve let those rumors haunt me for too long. I’m ready to get them out of my system for good.”
“How are you going to do that?”
She took his other hand and rested them both in her lap. “That’s where you come in.” She traced the lines of his palm with one red-painted fingernail, sending a lightning bolt of sensation straight to his groin.
“I want to revisit the past, so to speak, and turn those rumors into the truth.”
He blinked, trying to pull his thoughts away from sex to the discussion at hand. “I don’t understand. You can’t go back in time.”
“Not physically.” She continued to stroke his palm, so that he ached to reach out and pull her to him. “I want to take all those wild stories and re-create them today.”
She lifted her head and met his gaze and his breath caught. Was it only wishful thinking that made him see desire in her eyes, or was she really saying what he thought she’d said? “You mean, you want us to really do all the things they accused us of back then?”
She nodded and wet her lips, the pink tip of her tongue darting out between her teeth in a surprisingly erotic gesture. “Before you say yes or no, there’s something else I have to tell you.”
Something else? What else could she say that would tilt his world any further on edge? He waited, not breathing.
She looked down at his hands, her touch light as a butterfly’s wing as she traced the lines of his palm. “I’m going away in a few months to begin a year-long fellowship at Oxford, studying Shakespeare. If I’m lucky, it could turn into a long-term teaching assignment.”
The words landed like a rock in the pit of his stomach. “You’re leaving?” Just when he’d found her again?
She nodded. “So you see, this would only be for a few weeks or months, then we’d both be free to move on with our lives.” She leaned toward him, her pupils dark and liquid, her lips slightly parted. “Are you willing to do it? To be my lover for real this time?”
He’d never wanted anything more. Had wanted it ten years ago, but hadn’t had the courage to admit it. “If you’re sure…”
“Oh, I’m sure.” She closed her eyes and leaned toward him, her lips finding his.
Their movements were tentative at first, each gauging the other’s reaction with feather touches and gentle caresses. But desire quickly overcame caution. He reached for her and pulled her nearer, his lips more demanding, urging her to open to him.
She responded eagerly, pressing her body against him. Her tongue teased him, tracing the outline of his mouth, then plunging in to taste him fully before retreating once more. She kissed the corners of his mouth and along his jaw, lingering at his neck, her mouth warm and moist against the pulse of his throat.
His hand moved down her back, tracing the curve of her hip, the indentation at the base of her spine, the soft fullness of her bottom. “That feels good,” she whispered, and wriggled closer.
He scooped her up, into his lap, her thigh pressed against his rock-hard erection. He felt seventeen again, hot and horny, and desperate for relief.
But at seventeen he hadn’t known what he did now. That there was pleasure in waiting, in making the moment last and letting the desire build.
She pulled at the knot of his tie, loosening it enough to undo the top two buttons of his shirt. A shiver raced through him as her fingernails grazed his chest. “Do you like that?” she murmured.
“Yeah, I do.”
She laughed, a throaty chuckle, and nipped at his ear-lobe while she unfastened another button and slid her hand all the way inside his shirt, down toward his stomach.
He pulled her more tightly against him, trying to keep her from going farther. He couldn’t believe he was so turned on, so quickly. If she kept this up, he was liable to embarrass himself, and he hadn’t done that since he was a kid.
When she tried to protest, he silenced her with a kiss, then trailed more kisses down the satin column of her neck to the tops of her breasts. A breathy moan escaped her as he traced the curve of her cleavage with his tongue and his erection jerked in response. He buried his face between her breasts and inhaled deeply. Her perfumed woman fragrance flooded every nerve with awareness of her.
He slid his tongue beneath the fabric of her dress and found the hard bud of her nipple. She moaned again as he began to lick her and he brought his free hand up her leg, to the silk edge of her panties. He smiled, glad to see he wasn’t the only one turned on so quickly. She was soaking wet and ready for him.
As he stroked her, she arched toward him, silently begging for more. He hesitated only a second before laying her back on the table and reaching down to undo his fly.
TAYLOR HAD NEVER IMAGINED that a man she hadn’t seen in ten years would be able to make her lose control so quickly. As he kissed and caressed her, every atom in her ached for him. All the doubts and fear she’d battled when she’d walked into the reunion gave way to a flood of want and need. She wanted Dylan to kiss her, to touch her, to stroke her. She needed him inside her in a way she had never needed anyone before.
She cried out in frustration when his hands left her and opened her eyes to stare up at him accusingly. But then she saw that he was unfastening his belt and she grew quiet. Soon he’d ease this tension building within her.
She sat up, intending to hurry him along, but froze as someone spoke. “Do you think anyone will see us?” a woman asked.
“Nah. There’s nobody back here,” assured a man.
Taylor grabbed Dylan’s hand and stared at him, her heart racing. He helped her to sit up again and together they stared into the darkness behind them.
Shoes crunched on gravel. A woman giggled and the man rumbled an answer. Taylor thought she could make out two darker shadows moving toward them and then away. The voices faded and the air around them hummed with silence.
Dylan began buttoning his shirt again. “That was close,” he murmured.
She smoothed her dress, avoiding looking at him. “There’s one thing I forgot to mention. As a teacher, I have to be somewhat discreet.” She slanted a glance at him. “Although, since I’m going away, I suppose it doesn’t matter so much for me. But there’s your reputation to consider. We’d have to be careful.”
“How are you going to manage that if we’re supposed to be reenacting all those things we were accused of? I seem to recall some supposedly public spectacles.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got it all figured out.”
“Then you still want to go through with this?”
Was that doubt she heard in his voice? She turned to him, wishing she could see him more clearly in the darkness. “Don’t you?”
“Sure. But I don’t want to get you in trouble.”
“You won’t.” She put her hand on his arm. “Thanks for helping me.”
He smiled. “It’s not exactly charity work. I intend to enjoy myself, too.”
Her stomach fluttered and she resisted the urge to grin like an idiot. No sense reading more into this than there was. “Yes, but I’m asking you to give up your normal social life and put