“Well thanks for all your help.” Felicity didn’t bother to keep the sarcasm from her voice as she carefully folded the list and slid it into her pocket. “And thanks for dropping by.” She stepped towards the door, but his hand shot out, grasping her arm.
She looked up at him, wanting to hate him, but only feeling the opposite as her body drank in the taste of his touch.
“Wait,” he repeated softly. “That’s not all. I didn’t just want to help you. I didn’t want to let you go. At least this way I’d know where to find you.”
She shut her eyes and swallowed at the hope that lodge in her throat, choking off her breath. “Don’t,” she pleaded.
“Why? What do I have to lose, now?” He turned her to him, and she felt the heat of him more fully. “If I say nothing, you’ll leave.” He came closer, a whisper of fabric that brushed the back of her hand.
“But if I said that I can’t get you out of my mind, can’t sleep at night without dreaming about you, or get through a single day without thinking of you....” He trailed off as his voice deepened to a dark aching tone that slithered through her blood till the ache penetrated every part of her being.
“That just standing here beside you, could bring me to my knees with the need to be with you. That I’m sorry I hurt you and would go down on my knees right now, if I thought you’d give us another chance.” He gently stroked the side of her face and her own knees threatened to give out. “If I said all that, and asked if I could love you, what would you say, Felicity?”
She breathed in his scent; fought with yearning and wrestled her heart. Of course he didn’t mean love the way she felt it.... “Yes,” she whispered and opened her eyes to stare up at him.
“I’d say, yes.”
He seemed shocked, then a slow smile spread across his face. “Really?”
His mouth was on hers, devouring, hot, wet and hungry; cutting off words, feeding insanity. Soon two pairs of frantic hands were pulling at clothes—-untying, unzipping, unbuttoning—-wedged below a waistband or cupping firm velvety soft flesh.
First he was back-stepping her across the room, headed for the bedroom, then they were spinning round and round, until with dizzy, heaving, too-short breaths, he was the one walking backwards.
They hit the bed in a partially-clothed heap that knocked some of the urgency out of them. Daniel rose up on an elbow and she stared into his bright green eyes, noting the little flecks of gold and faint ring of blue-gray around the pupils that she’d never noticed before. Her heart tumbled over every little discovery.
He brushed her hair away from her face, his finger strokes causing gossamer streams of desire to sluice down her spine. Then he slowly ran a work-worn palm down her neck, stopping just above the crest of her breast. A feeling, thick and bittersweet, pressed down on Felicity’s heart, seeking entry, and she ached with the wanting of it.
“So what does this mean?” she asked hoarsely, knowing she shouldn’t.