If You Come Back To Me. Beth Kery

back and looked up at him.

      “Big. Intimidating.”

      “I’m bigger.”

      She went entirely still when she saw his slow, potent smile cast in moonlight.

      “Don’t be so cocky,” she admonished, even though she couldn’t help but smile at his immodesty.

      He chuckled and pressed her head back to his chest. “I only meant that I’m stubborn, and more than willing to try.” Neither of them spoke for a pregnant moment. “As far as strength goes, I think you’re underestimating yourself, Mari. All I’m asking is that you give us a chance. All I’m asking is that you don’t run.”

      He must have sensed her uncertainty, because he spoke coaxingly near her ear.

      “Just agree to see me, spend time with me, for the next week or so.”

      “That’s all?” she asked doubtfully.

      He drew her against his hard length, making sure she wasn’t left in doubt of his desire for her.

      “I want you. I always have. I’ve never made a secret of it…not that I could.” She glanced up at him to see his small smile. “But I’ll go at your pace. As long as I know you’re not running, I’ll be happy. Well…at least pacified.”

      She sighed. She wished she could know it if was right, wished she could be certain.

      “Take a risk, Mari.”

      Her gaze leaped to meet his. Was he a mind reader?

      “All right,” she whispered. “But I can’t guarantee anything. And I want to take things slowly…test out the waters.” See what kind of effect our being seen together has on your family and friends like Eric and Natalie Reyes, she added privately. She grimaced at her thought, realizing Marc was right to suggest she considered everyone else’s feelings before her own.

      He pulled her closer. He didn’t say anything, but she found herself wondering if he thought the same thing she did. They’d learned fifteen years ago that life was tenuous. People who thought happiness was guaranteed, that security was a certainty, were living in a dream.

      But did that mean the dream wasn’t worth seeking?

      Mari didn’t know the answer to that. So she did the best she could. She put her arms around Marc’s waist and tried to exist on the knife’s edge between doubt and desire. Despite her uncertainties, she became focused on the sensation of Marc’s body against hers. She closed her eyes. For a few delicious moments, she was only aware of the soothing sound of the gentle surf and Marc’s spicy male scent.

      She opened her heavy eyelids when he murmured her name. Much to her amazement, she found herself nuzzling his neck just above his collar, exploring the textures of his skin against her lips. He felt so good. Tasted so good, she added to herself when the tip of her tongue sampled him. He said her name again, more insistently this time. She leaned back and saw the gleam in his eyes as he stared down at her upturned face.

      She waited with sharp anticipation while he slowly lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers. It wasn’t a chaste kiss, but it was gentle…a promise of passion rather than the thing itself, a sweetness to be savored on her searching lips. She craned up for more of his taste and cried out softly when he lifted his head, depriving her.

      “We’d better go,” he said, his voice ragged.

      “What? Oh…okay,” Mari murmured, feeling bereft in the absence of Marc’s tender kiss. Hadn’t she been the one to tell him not to try anything on the beach, and yet here she was, tempting him into kissing her with all the power she knew he had?

      So much for taking things slowly, Mari thought irritably as they went to retrieve the sandwich bag and headed down the lamp-lit sidewalk to the road.

      She felt dazed and unsettled about what had just happened out there on that moonlit beach. Had she really just told Marc Kavanaugh she’d see him?

      “Uh, I’ll see you…. I’d better be…” She fumbled uncertainly after she’d unlocked her car door, highly aware of Marc standing just behind her on the quiet street.

      “Yeah. You’ll see me.”

      He sounded so restrained. Wasn’t he going to kiss her again? At least touch her?

      “Okay, then,” she mumbled. “Good night.”

      He said nothing, increasing her confusion. She slammed her car door and turned the key. Harbor Town seemed as if it’d been cast under a drowsy enchantment, Mari thought as she drove home on the darkened streets. If the kids were out playing on the peaceful summer night, they must be playing hide-and-seek, because she saw no one on her short ride home.

      Until she pulled into the driveway and stepped out of her car, that is.

      She heard the roar of the motorcycle. Marc pulled up behind her, cut the engine and dismounted the sleek bike. She sensed tension in his shadowed form as he stalked toward her.

      “I said I wouldn’t accost you on the beach, but I didn’t say a word about your front yard.”

      He took her into his arms and covered her mouth with his.

      This kiss was everything his former one was not: hot, consuming. He spanned her upper back with his hands in a blatant gesture of ownership, her breasts pressing tightly against his ribs.

      Mari moaned as he explored her mouth thoroughly, and she submitted to his bold claim. She wrapped her arms around his waist and held on while lust surged in her blood, enlivening her flesh. It never occurred to her to question the sudden inferno of her desire. Logic and the result of Marc’s kisses were mutually exclusive events.

      She panted softly when he lifted his head only to lower it again and press his mouth to her neck. She couldn’t think straight with him nibbling and kissing, his teeth occasionally gently scraping her skin, causing her nipples to tighten in excitement. His hands moved over her, coaxing her to enter a sensual fog. She leaned her head back, granting him more access. Her eyelids parted into slits, and she found herself staring at the dim streetlight.

      A quick, flashing picture arose in her imagination— Brigit Kavanaugh standing on her front porch, staring down Sycamore Street as her son publicly ravished Mari Itani in her driveway.

      “Marc,” she whispered hoarsely. “People will see.”

      For a moment, she thought he hadn’t heard her as he continued to ravenously explore her neck with his mouth, but then he abruptly stopped. He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward a lush maple tree. Mari jogged after him. The tree’s thick canopy of leaves provided a cover the streetlight couldn’t penetrate.