Just The Way You Are Part 26

"So you think," he said. "But let me give you something else to think about."

"Wha-?"

He didn't let her finish, simply leaned over and kissed her full on the mouth. It was so unexpected, so shockingly hot and tingling. He tasted like vodka. He smelled like fire. He felt like a warm, desirable male and her body responded in kind. Her head told her to stop, to pull away, that he was making a mockery of what she'd just told him. But her body seemed unwilling to move, her lips opening instead of closing, her tongue dancing with his instead of lying dormant. Oh, G.o.d, what was she doing?

Jimmy stopped before she did, making her feel even worse.

"Why did you do that?" she demanded, when she could finally put words to feelings.

"I thought you needed something else to think about."

"We're just friends, Jimmy."

"Of course we are."

"I don't want you to kiss me."

"Of course you don't," he said, getting to his feet. "I think I'll head back to the hotel."

It was the right thing to do. He'd crossed the line of their friendship. But still, she didn't like to see him taking the gla.s.ses into the kitchen, reaching for his coat, leaving her alone...

"You're going-just like that?" she asked, scrambling to her feet.

He met her gaze head-on. "Yes, because you just gave me something to think about, too."

"It's the fire and the martinis and the rain, that's all," she said helplessly. "We can forget it happened."

"What if I don't want to forget?"

"Why are you so serious all of a sudden?"

"It hasn't been all of a sudden."

His hard, sharp words made her wonder if she'd missed more than she realized.

A crack of thunder rattled the house, and Tessa suddenly had something else to think about-the worsening storm.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Jimmy said.

"Wait! Um, are you sure you have to go now?" She glanced toward the windows as a streak of lightning lit up the room.

He sent her a curious look. "You don't like the storm, do you? I remember that shoot we did when the hurricane was threatening. You kept popping Valium. I thought you were a drug addict at the time, but come to think of it, you just didn't like the wind, did you?"

"My parents died on a night like this. It was right before Christmas," she said, squeezing her hands together. "They had a baby-sitter come over so they could do some shopping without us. Their car skidded in the rain and they went off an embankment and were killed instantly. All I remember about that night is the thunder and the lightning and wishing that my parents would come home, only they never did." She drew in a breath as his arms slid around her waist and he pulled her against his chest.

"I won't leave you," he said huskily, stroking her hair.

"I'm sorry. It's stupid. You're going to think I'm an idiot or worse."

"Tessa, sweetheart, you don't want to know what I think, because it will scare you worse than this storm."

Alli felt the dock shift beneath her feet as a swell in the water lifted the boats up half a foot. She pulled the hood of her rain slicker tighter against her head, feeling the wind hit her like a runaway truck. She had hammered boards over her store windows, moved some of her more fragile items away from the door, and was now more than ready to get out of the storm, although she needed Sam's help to put a few heavy sandbags in front of the shop door.

"Sam," she called, putting a hand over her eyes so she could spot him in the driving rain. "Sam?"

She saw him as he hopped off the last of the boats and took another second to check the lines that held it in the slip. Although the harbor was usually well protected, unexpected high swells could rip the boats loose and send them into the wood pilings of the docks. She prayed that wouldn't happen. They couldn't afford damage to any of the boats.

She shifted back and forth as Sam called out "One second" and leaned over to check something on the dock. Thunder rumbled over her, around her, inside her, shocking her back to a night a long time ago when she'd snuck downstairs after hearing the doorbell ring. There had been a policeman on the front steps. He had said her parents were... G.o.d! She couldn't think about that, not now, not when lightning lit up the sky, reminding her of how she had tried to hide away from the horrible truth, but the lightning kept chasing after her, lighting up every hiding place, until she could do nothing but hear the policeman's words over and over again.

"The storm was bad. Everyone was inside. No one saw the car go into the canyon. We think the woman was alive for a while, but we didn't get to her in time."

Alli felt the familiar bile rise in her throat as his words came home to her. The thought of her mother, strapped in a mangled car, barely alive, praying for someone to save them, but slowly dying while the storm raged around her, made Alli crazy. She shook her head, trying to dislodge the words that had haunted her for years.

Tessa thought their parents had died instantly. And Alli hadn't ever been able to tell her differently. Because Tessa had been so scared that night, climbing into bed with her as they waited for the front door to open. Tessa hadn't come downstairs with her; she'd stayed in bed, the covers up to her chin.

Alli jumped again as lightning ignited the sky like an angry firecracker. She knew the thunder would follow. She was prepared. She was ready. But even so, she couldn't stop the terror that came with the deafening rattle.

She turned and ran. She thought she heard Sam call after her. But she couldn't stop. She had to get somewhere safe. She ran past Sam's office. It was too close to the water; she had to get higher, somewhere safer. She could go to her car. But, no, then she'd have to drive. And she couldn't drive.

Sam caught up to her as she struggled to put her key in the lock of her store. He took it out of her shaky fingers and unlocked the door for her. She ran inside and tried to turn on the light, but the power was gone.

"Oh, G.o.d. Oh, G.o.d." She stood in the middle of the dark store, hugging herself.

"It's okay, Alli." Sam switched on a flashlight and lit up the s.p.a.ce between them. "You're all right. We're safe. We're safe," he repeated, reaching out for her.

She didn't walk, she ran into his embrace, pressing her face against his wet slicker, not caring that they were both soaking wet. She just threw her arms around his neck and held on tight. Sam rea.s.sured her with a constant stream of words that barely registered, but the soothing tone of his voice slowly eased her tension.

"I'm sorry," she said after a few minutes. She tried to pull away from Sam but he wouldn't let her go. "I'm okay now," she told him.

"I'm not," he muttered.

She looked up at him and saw his eyes gleaming in the shadowy light. He pulled away from her and ripped apart the snaps of his slicker, taking it off and tossing it onto the floor.

"Come back here," he said.

She stared at him uncertainly, suddenly realizing the danger was no longer in the storm but in him, in her.

He cut the distance between them when she didn't move and put his hands on her hips in a way that reminded her of the way he held her when they made love, so she could feel him, all of him.

She could almost feel him now, the antic.i.p.ation of knowing what could come, how she could feel, overwhelming her senses. And when he took one hand off her hip to unzip her jacket, to toss it on top of his, all she could think of was how close their jackets were and how close they could be.

He was warmer now, she thought, as she moved into his arms with a sweet familiarity. His shirt was soft against her cheek, and she could hear his heart beating, strong and fast. She breathed in and out, hoping for calm, for sanity, but her breath brought in his scent, his appeal, and with each molecule of air she wanted him more.

"We-we can't," she forced herself to say, but she once again tightened her grip on his neck as the thunder rattled the display cases. "You're taking advantage, Sam. I wouldn't be hugging you like this if it weren't for the storm."

"I know. It's the storm that's holding us together. It's not you-or me."

Lightning lit up the store like the flash of a camera. For a minute Alli almost thought Jimmy had once again caught her on film. But the light faded, and when Sam turned off his flashlight they were surrounded by darkness.

She wanted to let him go. She tried to let him go, but her body seemed to have a mind of its own, her fingers playing with the curls of hair at the back of his neck.

"Megan-" She tried again to distract him.

"Is fine. I don't want to drive in this. Do you?"

"No." She paused. "You can really stop holding me now."

"You can stop holding me, too."

She was going to do just that when she felt Sam's lips touch her hair and her heart did a somersault at the phantom, feathery kiss. Her pulse began to race even as she told herself she didn't want this. She couldn't want this. But when Sam tucked a kiss into the curve of her neck, she shivered in antic.i.p.ation, her body a traitor to her thoughts.

"You still have that couch in your office," Sam murmured.

"We're not going into my office," she said automatically.

"It will be safer away from the windows."

She wasn't afraid of the gla.s.s breaking. She wasn't even afraid of the storm anymore. She was afraid of herself, terrified of what she wanted to happen next.

Sam moved her backward as if they were in a dance and he was steering her around a ballroom. Only they weren't waltzing past other couples, they were moving in between the aisles of her shop. Her shop, she tried to remind herself, her business, her new focus. She'd poured so much energy into her marriage, and it had all been a waste of time. Now it was going into the shop.

But as Sam turned her around, as he shuffled them toward the office door, all she could think about was the man who was holding her, whose hands and eyes and lips promised her the world. The next thing she knew they were in the office, and the couch was. .h.i.tting her in the back of her legs.

Sam stood in front of her, holding her hips against his, and she could feel his body hardening just as hers was beginning to soften. He swayed against her. She moved with him, her thighs pressing against his, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s tingling from contact with his chest, her lips seeking his mouth as he sought hers.

How she loved the way he ran his hands through her hair, trapping her head with his fingers so he could kiss her the way he wanted to, the way she wanted him to. It was a hot, carnal kiss between two people who knew each other inside and out.

Their bodies moved in perfect accord, as if to music playing somewhere in their heads, in their dreams, in their memories. They had made love a thousand times, but while tonight felt the same, it also felt different, as if they'd never been together, as if they didn't know each other's bodies by heart. Maybe it was the intense darkness, the shadows that kept reality safely hidden away. Maybe it was the storm, the drumming rain on the ceiling that made their other life seem so very far away. Maybe it was that she wanted one last time with him.

Sam pulled her sweater over her head and tossed it in the direction of the couch. She stared at him for one long questioning moment, then slipped her hands under the hem of his shirt and helped him off with it. They stood silently then, their breath rising like the steam from a sauna. There was a chance to change her mind. She knew she should take it.

But Sam was looking at her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, worshiping them with his eyes, as his hands slowly crept up from her waist until his thumbs caressed the skin above her bra. She wanted it off-and quickly, but Sam was toying with her bra, running his fingers along the top and then down through the valley of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, playing with the tiny clip that would set her free.

She took in a breath and let it out. He heard her and smiled. His finger flipped the snap and the material came apart. The air hit her b.r.e.a.s.t.s like an air conditioner until Sam's hands covered them with his heat, with his desire, with his need. His hands weren't enough. She wanted his mouth, his lips, his tongue.

And then he was there the way she remembered, better than she remembered, drawing her nipple between his teeth until she felt an ache that went straight to the heart of her. Her legs started trembling, and she thought she might fall, but Sam held her steady as he lifted his head from her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and looked at her.

He put his hand on the snap of her jeans and opened it. He pushed down the zipper and her pants quickly followed, leaving her standing in a pair of emerald-green silk panties. His hand swept across the silk, caressing her heat, feeling the dampness that told him how much she wanted him.

"I think you should take these off," he said.

She swallowed hard. "And you should take these off." She repeated his motion, opening his jeans, sliding her hands down to the top of his thighs as he kicked them off.

And they stood there again, a second pause, a moment to stop. But how could she stop? How could he?

"Alli," he said huskily, his face barely visible in the shadows, only the light of desire in his eyes showing her the way home.

"Yes," she said, the simple word being cut off by the descent of Sam's mouth on hers, the sudden slide of her panties down the back of her legs, Sam's hands cupping her b.u.t.tocks, rubbing them, kneading them, each movement getting more frantic. When he moved away from her, she wanted to cry out to him to come back. But he'd dropped to his knees, pulling her panties down to the floor, as he pressed his lips to her belly b.u.t.ton, her abdomen, the tight copper curls that graced the apex of her thighs.

She shuddered, reaching for him, but only managing to latch her fingers on to his hair as he began to kiss her there, forcing her thighs apart with his shoulders as he loved her with his mouth until her knees began to tremble and she gasped his name.

The next thing she knew she was lying on the couch while Sam was wrestling with his jeans.

"What are you doing?"

He pulled out a foil packet and quickly ripped it open, sliding the condom on before she could say a word. The familiar action registered like a harsh note in their love song, for even now in the heat of the storm, he couldn't forget about protection. But she couldn't summon up enough strength to protest, not when her body was already on fire, not when he was pressing her back against the cushions and entering her with an aching slowness and completeness that made her heart ache all the while her body sang in joy.

She closed her eyes, feeling him with every fiber of her being, knowing that she would love this man forever, no matter what she told herself or what she told him. With Sam inside her, on top of her, surrounding her, she soared as high as a kite, as free as the breeze, as powerful as the sea. She felt each and every emotion as she matched his rhythm with her own, for in this moment they were in perfect accord, peaking at exactly the same time, collapsing together breathlessly as they came down the other side of the wave.

Tears blurred her eyes, and she wondered if this would be the last time she would hold him, the last time she would feel his body inside hers. She didn't want to let him go now, her hands clasped tightly behind his back.

"I'm too heavy," he said.

"Sh-sh," she said. "Not yet."

He stayed with her for another minute, then rolled off her, the air between them covering her with an icy chill. She sat up on the couch as Sam handed her her clothes. She didn't put them on right away, just watched him get dressed from the dark shadows of the couch.

"It's cold," he said, turning to her. "You should put something on."

"It wasn't cold a minute ago."

Sam sat down on the couch next to her and put his arm around her shoulders. He pulled her to his chest, which was now covered by his T-shirt, she thought with disappointment. But still she rested her face against his shoulder and took a deep breath of him, evoking the scent to memory. She never wanted to forget the way he smelled, the way he tasted, the way he felt.

Sam kissed the top of her head. "You're beautiful, Alli."

His compliment brought another tear to her eye, another ache to her heart. "You're beautiful, too," she said huskily.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, a silence that gradually began to turn tense as they struggled to find something to say to each other. This had always been the hard part, the moments after they made love, moments when they should have felt closer than ever, yet somehow didn't.

Finally, she raised her body away from him and put on her clothes, fumbling with the hooks and zippers. When she was done, she stood up. "We better go home. I think the rain has lessened." In fact, she could barely hear the wind that had sounded like a freight train only a few minutes earlier.

"Home," he said heavily as he stood up. "Where is that exactly, Alli?"

"What do you mean?" she countered somewhat warily, hearing a note in his voice she didn't like.

"Our home or your home?"

She hesitated. "Do you think things have changed?"

"Do you?"

"We've made love before. Making love has never been our problem, Sam. It's the one thing we do really, really well together."

"But-"

"But you still used a-a condom," she said. "And you still can't say you love me. And I'm not sure you can even say you really wanted this, that if we hadn't come out in the storm we would have even made love."