LITMIR.BIZ

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wanted you to know how much I longed to make love. If you’ll recall, you’d just returned from a three-month tour.”

      “Carol, if you’ll recall, we’d spent the entire day in bed.”

      She took a sip of her milk, then slowly raised her gaze to meet his. “It wasn’t enough.”

      Steve closed his eyes and shook his head before grudgingly admitting, “It wasn’t enough for me, either.”

      As soon as it had been socially acceptable to do so, Steve had made their excuses to the admiral that night and they’d hurriedly left the party. The entire way home, he’d been furious with Carol, telling her he was certain someone must have known what little trick she was playing. Just as heatedly, Carol had told Steve she didn’t care who knew. If some huffy admiral wanted to throw a dinner party he shouldn’t do it so soon after his men return from deployment.

      They’d ended up making love twice that evening.

      “Steve,” Carol whispered with ragged emotion.

      “Yes?”

      “Once wasn’t enough tonight, either.” She dared not look at him, dared not let him see the way her pulse was clamoring.

      Abruptly he stopped eating, and when he swallowed, it looked as if he’d downed the sandwich whole. A full minute passed before he spoke.

      “Not for me, either.”

      Their lovemaking was different this time. Unique. Unrepeatable. Earlier, it’d been like spontaneous combustion. This time was slow, easy, relaxed. Steve led her into the bedroom, unfastened the buttons of the shirt that she was wearing and let it drop unheeded to the floor.

      Carol stood before him tall and proud, her taut nipples seeming to beg for his lips. Steve looked at her naked body as if seeing her for the first time. Tenderly he raised his hand to her face and brushed back a wisp of blond hair, his touch light, gentle. Then he lowered his hands and cupped the undersides of her breasts, as though weighing them in a delicate measure. The velvet stroke of his thumbs worked across her nipples until they pebbled to a throbbing hardness. From there he slid the tips of his fingers down her rib cage, grazing her heated flesh wherever he touched her.

      All the while, his dark, mesmerizing gaze never left hers, as though he half expected her to protest or to stop him.

      Carol felt as if her hands were being manipulated like a puppet’s as she reached for his belt buckle. All she knew was that she wanted him to make love to her. Her fingers fumbled at first, unfamiliar with the workings of his belt, then managed to release the clasp.

      Soon Steve was nude.

      She studied him, awed by his strength and beauty. She wanted to tell him all that she was feeling, all the good things she sensed in him, but the words withered on her tongue as he reached out and touched her once more.

      His hand continued downward from her rib cage, momentarily pausing over her flat, smooth stomach, then moving lower until it encountered her pelvis. Slowly, methodically, he braced the heel of his hand against the apex of her womanhood and started a circling, gyrating motion while his fingers explored between her parted thighs.

      Hardly able to breathe, Carol opened herself more to him, and once she had, he delicately parted her and slipped one finger inside. Her eyes widened at the stab of pleasure that instantly sliced through her and she bit into her lower lip to keep from panting.

      She must have made some kind of sound because Steve paused and asked, “Did I hurt you?”

      Carol was incapable of any verbal response. Frantically she shook her head, and his finger continued its deft movements, quickly bringing her to an exploding release. Wave upon wave of seething spasms, each one stronger, each one more intense, overtook every part of her. Whimpering noises escaped from deep within her throat as she climaxed, and the sound propelled Steve into action.

      He wrapped his arms around her and carried her to the bed, laying her on top of the rumpled sheets. Not allowing her time to alter her position or rearrange the sheets, Steve moved over her, parted her thighs and quickly impaled her.

      His breathing was ragged, barely under control.

      Carol’s wasn’t any more even.

      He didn’t move, torturing her with an intense longing she had never experienced. Her body was still tingling in the aftermath of one fulfillment and reaching, striving toward another. Her whole person seemed to be filled with anxious expectancy … waiting for something she couldn’t define.

      Taking her hands, Steve lifted them above her head and held them prisoner there. He leaned over her, bracing himself on his arms on either side of her head. The action thrust him deeper inside Carol. She moaned and thrashed her head against the mattress, then lifted her hips, jerking them a couple of times, seeking more.

      “Not yet, love,” he whispered and placed a hand under her head, lifting her mouth to his. Their kiss was wild and passionate, as though their mouths couldn’t give or take enough to satisfy their throbbing need.

      Steve shifted his position and completely withdrew his body from hers.

      Carol felt as if she’d suddenly gone blind; the whole world seemed black and lifeless. She started to protest, started to cry out, but before the sound escaped her throat, Steve sank his manhood back inside her. A shaft of pure light filled her senses once more and she sighed audibly, relieved. She was whole again, free.

      “Now,” Steve told her. “Now.” He moved eagerly then, in deep, calculated strokes, plunging into her again and again, gifting her with the sun, revealing the heavens, exploring the universe. Soon all Carol knew was this insistent warm friction and the sweet, indescribable pangs of pleasure. Her body trembled as ripple after ripple of deep, pure sensation pulsed over her, driving her crazy as she remembered what had nightly been hers.

      Breathless, Steve moved to lie beside her, bringing her into the circle of his arms. An hour passed, it seemed, before he spoke. “Was it always this good?”

      The whispered question was so low Carol had to strain to hear him. “Yes,” she answered after a long, timeless moment. “Always.”

      He pressed his forehead against the top of her head and moaned. “I was afraid of that.” The next thing Carol was aware of was a muffled curse and the unsettling sound of something heavy crashing to the floor.

      “Steve?” she sat up in bed and reached for a sheet to cover her nakedness. The room was dark and still. Dread filled her—it couldn’t be morning. Not yet, not so soon.

      “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

      “You’re leaving?” She sent her hand searching for the lamp on the nightstand. It clicked and a muted light filled the room.

      “I’ve got the watch today,” he reminded her.

      “What time is it?”

      “Carol, listen,” he said gruffly, “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” All the while he was speaking, Steve’s fingers were working the buttons of his shirt and having little success in getting it to fasten properly. “Call what happened last night what you will—the holiday spirit, a momentary slip in my better judgment … whatever. I’m sure you feel the same way.” He paused and turned to study her.

      She leaned forward, resting her chin on her raised knees. Her heart was in her throat, and she felt shaken and miserable. “Yes, of course.”

      His mouth thinned and he turned his back to her once more. “I thought as much. The best thing we can do is put the entire episode out of our minds.”

      “Right,” she answered, forcing some enthusiasm into her voice. It was working out exactly as she’d planned it: they would both wake up in the morning, feel chagrined, make their apologies and go their separate ways once more.

      Only it didn’t feel the way she’d anticipated. It felt wrong. Very wrong.

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