He tried not to think about how far this might go or where it would lead them. All he knew was that he wanted her, he wanted to take it to the limit just one more time. Logic told him they should stop before things got crazy. But Buzz knew the situation had passed that point the moment he’d touched her.
His mouth left her breast, his tongue leaving a wet trail to her neck. He kissed her mouth. She tensed slightly when his hands went to the snap of her jeans, but she didn’t stop him. He knew what she was thinking. He sensed the war raging inside her. The war between sanity and lust, emotion and logic, right and wrong. The very same war raged within him.
The snap at the front of her jeans opened easily. Lowering the zipper, he set his hand over her flat belly. Warm, taut flesh met his palm. He barely heard her whisper his name over the jackhammer of blood in his ears. His fingers met the silk of her panties, then the crisp curls of her mound.
Vaguely, he was aware of her trembling. He heard labored breaths, but for the life of him he couldn’t tell if they were hers or his. A sound escaped her when his fingers found her most intimate place. She squirmed in his arms, opening to him, her body melting around him like hot wax. His heart pounded like a locomotive, laboring up a hill with a heavy load. He slipped two fingers inside her and she went rigid in his arms. A cry bubbled up from within her, but he swallowed the sound with a kiss. He made love to her mouth, all the while his fingers moved rhythmically inside her. He felt the rise of high-wire tension coming through her body and into his, but he didn’t stop, refused to give her a reprieve. Not until she gave him what he wanted, what he needed.
“Climax for me,” he whispered, stroking her, stroking.
She came apart in his arms, like a bomb exploding in slow motion, pelting him with sensation. He felt her body spasm. Her legs buckled. She cried out, but his name came out in only a whisper because her breaths were coming in short, labored gasps.
Gentling the kiss, Buzz closed his eyes against the burst of emotion and held onto his control by the force of sheer will. He held her tightly, aware that he was still touching her intimately, and tried not to think about what he’d just done and what it would mean in terms of their relationship or where they went from here.
The discipline cost him, but he held her gently as she slowly came back down to earth. Kissing her, never taking his eyes from hers, he swept her into his arms. On shaking legs, he carried her over to his sleeping bag and settled her onto it.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I’m going to make love to my ex-wife.”
Her cheeks were flushed and moist with a sheen of perspiration. Buzz had never seen any woman look as beautiful as she did at that moment. She glanced over at the tent, realized belatedly that she was concerned about waking Eddie.
“Is he a sound sleeper?” Buzz asked.
“I need to check on him,” she whispered, moving to rise.
Buzz put his hand gently on her shoulder, pressing her down. “Let me.”
Rising to his full height, resisting the urge to rearrange himself, he strode over to the one-man tent, unzipped the flap and peered inside. The smell of little boy and laundry detergent and the scent of Kelly’s shampoo lingered. It was a few degrees warmer in the tent. Anxious to get back to Kelly, he looked around as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. The sight of his son stopped him, the barrage of emotions that followed froze him in place.
The little boy was sleeping soundly with one arm draped protectively over the ratty stuffed bear he’d been carrying around with him. Buzz stared, aware of the uneven tempo of his breathing, the strum of his heart, the sharp pang of an emotion he didn’t want to identify punching through him. For a moment he was moved so profoundly that tears burned at the backs of his eyes. Awe and disbelief that such a beautiful child could be his flowed through him in a torrent.
Moving into the tent, he raised the sleeping bag higher on Eddie’s thin shoulders and covered him. Without realizing he was going to, Buzz leaned forward and kissed the little boy’s soft cheek. “Night, son.”
He closed his eyes tightly, determined not to let this get to him. Struggling to get a handle on his emotions, he backed from the tent, then sat back on his heels and pulled in a long breath.
He knew it was stupid to get emotional over something as simple as kissing his son good night, but for the first time in too many years to count, Buzz was having a hard time keeping it together. He could already feel the losses piling up around him. Soon it seemed the ground would open its hungry mouth, and everything he’d ever wanted would be gone.
Chapter 13