Dropping the rag he’d given her for her knee, she laid a tentative hand on his chest. His breath seized in his lungs. She faced north, and he faced south, and even though they were positioned in opposite directions, they seemed closer than ever before.
Her trembling hand wasn’t its usual icy cold as it trailed up his neck, but each time those wary blue eyes met his, they would flicker away. When she cupped his jaw, he let his eyes close. She was touching him again, and her caress was this side of heaven.
Her fingertips traced his mouth next. He felt her scoot even closer, and then the briefest touch of her mouth slid across his lips.
He knew that mouth. He’d kissed it in the light. He’d kissed it in the dark. For years, it had been the first thing he’d sought in the morning, and the first thing he’d craved when he arrived home at night. His pulse thundered as he waited for more than a mere brush. Seconds ticked by. The wind ruffled his hair, making all the hairs on his neck prickle with awareness. She conducted another pass of his lips, but nothing more. His hand fisted in the dirt, like hers had earlier. He fought the urge to grip her calf.
God, he thought, oh God. More. Touch me more.
The pressure increased until she was sipping at his upper lip, the corner of his mouth, the fullness of his bottom lip. He locked his muscles, afraid to move, to startle her from this precious reunion.
“Why aren’t you kissing me back?” she asked with a catch in her throat.
A strangled noise rose from his chest. “I’m afraid to.”
“But why?” she whispered, her breath warm and fragrant on his skin. “I thought this was what you wanted.”
“It is…but I want it to mean something.” He squeezed his eyes shut tighter. “I don’t want this to be about me taking care of you.”
Her hand curled around his neck in benediction as her mouth kissed his chin so damn sweetly he felt tears pop into his eyes.
“Blake. It’s not because you took care of me.” She stopped herself from saying more, but he heard the words left unsaid: It means something.
It was the permission he’d been seeking, the opening he’d prayed she would give him. He opened his eyes.
With her face just inches away, he could make out the fine, pale hairs on her soft cheek. His hand lifted. He watched it travel with the uncertain speed of a balloon in the air, unsure of where it was going. His fingertips finally reached for her face. He traced the curve of her delicate jaw, the line of her soft cheekbone. They traveled up, smoothing her brow.
This time, she let her eyes close, and a sigh gusted out of her, hanging in the air between them. His exploration continued. He reacquainted himself with the beauty of her face. His thumb traced the curve of her upper lip and then the bottom. Her mouth parted, and the knowledge that she was fighting the urge to suck his finger into her mouth like she’d always enjoyed doing turned him rock hard in an instant. That would be too intimate. Some touches were tipping points to new plateaus, and right now, they needed to keep to the flats. Cresting to a higher level would be too taxing, too stressful to this new connection between them.
His mouth settled onto hers with more pressure, and then they were kissing for real. Even though he’d kissed her thousands of times, this kiss felt like their first kiss. Filled with hesitation. Laden with unfulfilled promises. Heavy with questions. Burgeoning with hope.
Then her mouth opened under his, and she answered one of his questions. She wanted to take things deeper. He fell under her spell. His tongue slid into her mouth slowly, another question. How far? She answered by rubbing her tongue against his. They circled and danced, and he didn’t care that his lungs were screaming for air. He never wanted this kiss to end.
She inhaled sharply through her nose some moments later, struggling for breath, but still she didn’t pull away from their connection. Her hands cupped his face now, tracing his jaw with sweetness. The fingers he had around her calf slid up ever so slowly until he could grip her thigh.
Her moan crossed the short distance from her mouth to his, and he felt the vibration ripple through his body, down to the very nuclei of his cells. She slanted her head to the right, and he answered her silent request. The kiss turned wetter, the passes of their tongues swifter—until this time he was the one who groaned.
Time faded away. He lost sight of where they were, of the hard ground beneath them. All he felt was the rapid rise of her chest as she breathed into his mouth as they kissed. All he felt was the warmth of her skin, the curve of her breast against his chest.