From the Beginning (16 page)

“What if I don’t want it to be over?”

“Come on, Simon. Gabby’s dead. There’s nothing connecting us anymore.”

“Gabby wasn’t the only thing we had between us, Amanda.” He grabbed her hand, tugged her closer. Nearly groaned at the feel of her body against his own. Even when they were angry at each other, they responded to one another physically. “I never found what I had with you with anyone else,” he told her. “I’ve never wanted it with anyone else.”

The words were so honest, so raw, that they hurt coming out. As did the instinctive rejection he saw in her eyes.

Wanting to delay that rejection, wanting to pretend that things were going to be okay, if only for a little while, he bent his head, pressed his lips gently to hers.

And there it was, the fire that never seemed to dampen between them. The second their mouths touched, it blazed hot and wild. For a moment, it felt as if she was going to pull away, but he slipped his arms around her waist, pulled her closer, and the moment dissolved.

Instead, her lips opened under his like a flower, and he groaned, low in his throat. He told himself to take it slow, not to spook her, but she tasted so good and he’d waited so long to have her again, to really have her, that he dived right in.

He nibbled on her lips, pulled her lower lip between his teeth and nipped a little—the way he knew she liked. She shuddered against him, her hands clutching at his shirt, and he nearly howled in triumph.

He managed to control himself, though, just barely, and focused instead on tasting her. On bringing her as much pleasure as he could. On reminding her of how good things had been between them before they’d gone bad.

Sliding his hands down, he cupped her ass and lifted her against him, so that the softness of her sex was pressed directly over his own hardness. She gasped a little and he took advantage, delving his tongue deep into her mouth and exploring her hidden recesses.

She tasted exactly like he remembered—of strawberries and the deep, dark chocolate he had a weakness for. He pulled her closer, opened his mouth wider. He wanted to bury himself in Amanda, to immerse himself inside of her until she acknowledged how crazy she was being. Until she admitted that they belonged together, that he
could
take care of her, despite the mistakes he’d made in the past.

The kiss went on and on and on, long minutes of touching and tasting and exploring that drove him out of his mind. He wanted to caress all of her, wanted to reacquaint himself with every inch of her body. Wanted to claim her so completely that she’d never try to leave him again.

Driven nearly mad by his need for her, he walked them slowly across the room until they were at the bed. Then he lowered her to the mattress, careful not to break the kiss. And when he dropped onto the floor between her spread thighs, she moaned—a wild, tortured exclamation that shot deep inside of him and brought him right to the edge of his control.

Wrenching his mouth from hers, Simon pressed against Amanda’s shoulders until she sank gracefully back onto the bed. And then he looked at her for long seconds, taking in her dazed eyes, swollen mouth, open thighs.

Lust beat deep inside of him, a need to take her, to make her his, to silence her objections once and for all. He wanted to fall on her, to devour her, to kiss and suck and bite every inch of her until she was as wrapped up in him as he had always been in her.

The only thing stopping him was the tenderness he felt toward her, a softness that tempered the wild claws of desire and slowed him down like nothing else could. She looked beautiful and amazing and sexy and yet so delicate that he was almost afraid he would break her.

Leaning forward, he forced himself to be gentle, to go slow, as he slid his lips over her jaw and down the slender column of her throat. She gasped, pressed her head to the side to give him better access as her fingers trailed over the nape of his neck.

They were the signs he’d been waiting for, the acceptance he had craved deep inside himself. And still, he made himself ask. She was so vulnerable right now he didn’t want to do anything to hurt her.

“Let me love you, Amanda,” he whispered against the hollow of her throat. “Let me make you feel good.”

“Yes,” she gasped as she slipped her fingers under his shirt and started to shove at the well-worn fabric. “Please, Simon.”

Her voice was almost a wail, and a flash of desire shot through him so quickly that he feared he would be burned alive if he didn’t get inside her soon. Levering himself away from her, he ignored her moan of disappointment as he ripped his shirt over his head, then pulled her up and did the same to hers.

She wasn’t wearing a bra and his eyes nearly crossed as he got his first glimpse of her breasts. She was smaller than before, but she was still beautiful. Soft and round and perfect. Her skin was creamy-white here, her nipples glowing a deep rose in the dense afternoon sunlight.

Slowly, carefully, he reached for her. Traced a finger over the blue veins that showed through the delicate skin. Circled her areola the way he knew she liked, savoring the softness of her as much as the thrill of finally having her in his arms again.

Unable to wait any longer, he leaned forward and took one of her nipples into his mouth. Sucked gently and reveled in her quiet gasp. In the trembling she couldn’t hide and the fingers that clutched at his shoulders.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured as he kissed his way down her rib cage to her belly button. He paused to blow a stream of hot air directly against her navel, and she responded as he knew she would, with a giggle and an arch of her body that brought them into even closer contact.

“I love that you’re still ticklish,” he told her as his fingers made quick work of the button and zipper on her jeans. Then he was moving lower, nuzzling the soft cotton fabric of her underwear out of the way as he ran his tongue along her bikini line.

She squirmed, bucked against him, but even as he tried to raise his head—to see if he’d gone too far—her fingers were tangling in his hair. Holding him in place as she moved restlessly beneath him.

He closed his eyes in relief, breathed in the sweet, sexy scent that was all Amanda. Then he slowly peeled off her jeans, so she was lying in front of him in nothing but a pair of black cotton hipsters that gaped at the waist.

He tried not to notice, tried not to concentrate on the weight she had lost because he knew he would lose it completely if he did. He’d start lecturing her for not taking better care of herself when the last thing he wanted between them right now was anger.

But it was hard to bite his tongue when she was so thin that her stomach was practically concave, her hip bones jutting out in stark relief. Hard to keep his mouth shut when he could span her waist with two hands, and his fingers overlapped.

“You have to take better care of yourself,” he told her softly as he hooked his fingers on the waistband of her panties and pulled them down her legs.

She nodded. “I’m working on it.”

“Good.” He licked his way back up to her breasts, pulled one strawberry nipple into his mouth and started to suck.

She moaned, a breathless little sound that had him hardening to the point of pain. He moved to the other breast, gave it the same attention, then captured her lips in a kiss that broke the last ties of his control.

Sliding down her body, leaving kisses in his wake, he didn’t stop until his shoulders were between her thighs and she was spread out before him, her sex soft and pink and beautiful. He slipped a finger inside of her, savoring the way she sighed and trembled. Then leaned forward and delivered a slow, lingering lick right up the heart of her.

AMANDA NEARLY SHOT OFF the bed as Simon’s tongue circled her clit. The desire singing through her veins ratcheted up another notch. Instinctively, she clutched at his shoulders to hold him to her.

It felt so good to be with him like this, felt so good to touch him and let him touch her. It had been so long since she’d connected with another person in any way, let alone sexually, that she couldn’t bring herself to stop this. No matter how sure she was that it was the wrong thing for them.

Orgasm loomed and she shuddered, tried to hold it off. She wanted this moment to last, if not forever then a little longer. She didn’t want to go back to being angry with Simon or hating him or any of the other complicated emotions she felt for him. She wanted to stay right here—in the moment, in the pleasure—forever. Then she wouldn’t have to think, wouldn’t have to make a decision she knew was for the best, but would hurt them both.

Sensing her imminent release, Simon slipped his hand beneath her then slid one long finger inside of her sex. Amanda gasped, lifted her hips to meet him and shuddered as pleasure shook her to her very core.

He stroked her through her orgasm, stroking and licking and taking her higher until it was all she could do not to scream. When it was over, she collapsed on the bed and sucked in long gasps of air as Simon gently stroked her hair.

When she could breathe again, she turned to him. Held him against her as tightly as she could.

It felt so right to be here with him, to cradle his head against her breast as her body yearned for his, that it scared her. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Not this comfortable. Not this good. “Simon, I don’t think—”

He cut her words off with a kiss, so tender, so exquisite. “Don’t think,” he told her, and his green eyes were calmer than she’d ever seen them.

Leaning her head to one side, eyes still locked with his, she offered him her mouth again. He took it, and the sudden pressure of his lips on hers unleashed a maelstrom of confusion inside of her. Being with him was like finding herself again—sweet, warm and so familiar that it brought tears to her eyes—but it was also like losing herself. She wasn’t sure which of the sensations was more frightening.

His hands weren’t steady as they skimmed up her arms, but they felt good. So good. Everywhere he touched her came to life, every brush of his fingertips brought an extra zap of intensity to the emotions already riding her hard.

“It’s my turn to touch you,” she told him breathlessly. If this was it, she decided, if this was the only time they’d ever be able to put the past aside and love each other, she wanted to do it right.

She started to tell him how she felt, but he silenced the words with another kiss. And then he was rolling across the bed, spinning with her, lifting her above him as his mouth swept over the curve of her breast.

He settled her astride him gently, her knees on either side of his hips—and again it felt so right, so normal, so good, that she didn’t know how to feel. “Take me, Amanda,” he whispered. “Please. I don’t want all this pain between us anymore.”

She paused, savored Simon’s words as much as the feel of him against her. He was right—the pain had gotten her nowhere. She had to let the past go, had to embrace the pleasure he offered her. It would be so much better than the agony that came before it.

With that thought in her head, she raised herself over him and slowly, carefully, took him inside her.

She rode him leisurely, sweetly, showing him with her body all the things she didn’t want to say with words. Immersed in him, in everything that arced between them with each slow glide of her body, she kept the rhythm languid, steady.

The tension began to build in her, the ache between her thighs becoming more and more unbearable, and she could tell by his clenched fists and bowed body that Simon was feeling the same.

And still she kept moving, pushing both of them to the brink of release. Need was a living thing within her, but she forced it back again and again, unwilling to have this one perfect moment end. Unwilling to face the reality she knew was coming for both of them. She’d waited so long for this, to connect with the only man she’d ever really love, that she wanted it to last forever.