The moments ticked on, the night grew still and vast. He listened to the sound of his own heartbeat, trying to slow it down, but having no success.

Then he heard a new sound, the bedroom door opening. Whatever progress he’d made with his heart was shot to hell as his hopes rose. She was probably just going to the bathroom, nothing more. Besides, hadn’t he just gone on and on about stepping back? Putting sex aside?

Her footsteps were lost in the thick carpet, and he couldn’t place her in the room. That is, until he saw her shadow on the wall.

He turned his head, and there she was, made somehow silver by the light of the moon. She approached the bed slowly, quiet as a mouse, until she stood not a foot away, right next to the bed.

He could just see her expression. Worried. In fact, she was chewing on her lower lip.

Dan threw back the covers. Jessica sat down, making the slim mattress curve under her weight.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she whispered.

“Lie down.”

“You said you didn’t want to.”

“I know.”

“I said I didn’t want to.”

He smiled, knowing she couldn’t see him. “I know.”

“But here I am.”

He reached out with his hand, grasped hers and squeezed. “Come,” he said.

“Are you sure?”

“No.”

“What if it’s a huge mistake?”

He gave her a little tug. “Then let’s make it together.”

She nodded, then slowly stretched out next to him. He closed his eyes, achingly aware of the softness of her skin, of the way her hip felt against his, of her closeness, her scent.

“You know there’s a basic problem with your project,” she said.

“What’s that?”

“The premise. How can you ever understand women, when we don’t understand ourselves?”

He turned over on his side, and looked down into her shadowy face. “I don’t believe it. I think you understand every mystery in the universe. That you know all the secrets of the heart. You just have to listen to your own wisdom, that’s all.”

Her hand moved up to the back of his neck. “Is this wise?”

He answered her with a kiss.

What Women Really Mean

1. Do what you want-You’ll pay for this later.

2. We need to talk-I need to complain.

3. Sure…go ahead-I don’t want you to.

4. I’m not upset-Of course I’m upset, you moron!

5. You’re certainly attentive tonight-Is sex all you ever think about?

Source: Gallant, Jim “What Women Really Mean”

http://www.galisteao.com/gallant/humor/

16

THE MOMENT THEIR LIPS touched, Jessica’s fears drifted away, and she was right there, right then, and there was nowhere else on earth she’d rather be.

His hand moved to her sash, which he opened effortlessly, then he slipped inside to touch her bare flesh. It felt as if he belonged there, as if without his touch she was incomplete. Everything that had troubled her diminished to insignificance as she explored his mouth, his taste, as he stroked her stomach with infinite care and respect.

As for her, she had her own tasks to complete, getting him naked first on the list. She got hold of his boxers and tugged down, but she was only able to get so far. Whispering a soft apology, he left her momentarily while he yanked the shorts off, and as long as he was in position, he spread her robe completely open, and when he lay down again it was flesh to flesh.

He lowered his head until he kissed her once more, but only a peck. Turning so he could nibble the edge of her chin, he whispered, “I don’t understand this. How I feel when…”

“I know,” she said. “It’s crazy. But, oh, God.”

“Uh-huh.” He licked, then nibbled, then moved to her neck, kissing, murmuring sweet sounds that had no words, just the heat of his breath, the wet of his tongue, the sharpness of his teeth.

Distraction came when he cupped her breast, using the flat of his palm to circle her nipple, brushing against it so lightly it was as if she imagined the caress.

Everything in her wanted more. “Please,” she begged, pressing herself into his hand. “Don’t make me wait.”

He lifted his head and stared down at her. It was too dark and his face too shadowed to see him clearly, but the length of his pause made her think he could see her.

He said nothing as he moved on top of her, spreading her legs with his knees to nestle between them. Once settled, he found her hands, and slid his fingers between hers. He lifted both hands until they were above her head, brought them both together, then using one hand, so much larger than hers, he grasped both wrists tightly. When she tugged, he held her fast, immobile.

“What-?”

His low chuckle did all sorts of interesting things to her body. She tried to wiggle, but the way he held her captive, she could hardly move.

Spreading her legs farther, he touched her with his free hand, and after getting the lay of the land, he thrust a finger inside her, making her gasp with the sudden intrusion. The next second his mouth covered hers, swallowing her surprise as his finger plunged inside her.

There was nothing gentle or gentlemanly about anything he did. His tongue and his finger worked in rhythm, each taking her roughly, giving her no option but to surrender to the pleasure, to abandon herself to whatever wickedness was in store.

His body tensed as he ravaged her mouth, his fingers thrust inside her once more and then were gone, replaced quickly with the full length of him, filling her completely, making her gasp and arch her back.

He took her, plunged into her over and over roughly, the gentle man she’d known replaced by this animal presence, this predator.

She writhed beneath him, so awash with awareness and excitement she could hardly breathe. She heard herself moan, although the sound was unlike any she’d made before. Her hands struggled to break free even though she didn’t want to be free. Her body was more hers than ever before, even as her moves were unfamiliar and jerky.

“Mine,” he whispered gruffly, the tone brooking no quarter, taking possession of her body, her mind, her soul.

She wrapped her legs around his hips, meeting each thrust with one of her own, two bodies crashing together like waves to a craggy shore.

Her orgasm came quickly, with such ferociousness she could only cry out, inarticulate, trembling. She squeezed him both with her legs and with her inner muscles, and he went over the edge, too, his cry and hers twining like their bodies.

When it was over, he released her wrists, collapsing on top of her in a heap.

She didn’t mind. She wanted to feel his chest rise and fall. She still had him inside her, and that she wasn’t willing to relinquish.

Dizzy from the exertion, her body continued to spasm in echoes of the fierce climax, and every time she did, he answered in the same way.

Finally, long after the main event had ended, he sighed deeply, then kissed her. Gentle Dan had returned, but now she knew that there was another side to him, darker, rougher, and she wasn’t sure which she preferred.

“I hate it,” he said, “but I have to.”

She whimpered. “Please, no.”

“I must. Cramp in my leg.”

She kissed his cheek. “Poor baby.”

“It’s your fault.” He rolled off her, leaving her empty and chilled.

“How is it my fault?”

“You make me crazy. I have no self-control when I’m around you.”

“That’s not me. That’s you.”

“Nope. I know it’s you.”

“How?”

He turned his head to look at her. “Because it doesn’t happen with anyone else.”

“Oh.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know what to do with you.”

“Me, neither.”

“I keep thinking the best thing is to leave you alone. Go back to square one, and focus on the research. Get possessive around Owen, then back the hell off.”

“That sounds right.”