Marriage Terms

Instead of answering, she took a sip of the champagne. “Hey, this is good.” She held the glass up to the light and watched the tiny bubbles rise to the surface.

“I think the champagne should be your secret weapon.”

“Yeah? Well, you’re scarfing that down, too,” he complained.

She smiled around another swallow. “Life sucks sometimes, doesn’t it?”

He laughed and took a drink, glancing at the television screen. “What did I miss?”

“Terry the Toad is hoping to get lucky.”

“Did Richard Dreyfuss find the blonde?”

“Not yet.”

Daniel tore open the bag of pretzels and settled back into the couch.

Amanda sighed with contentment. She’d hated the party. Hated to admit it, but she hated her first teenage A-list party.

This was so much better, lounging on comfortable furniture, watching a funny movie, laughing and talking with Daniel and sipping on a beverage that didn’t taste like orange-flavored gasoline.

She reached for a pretzel.

So much better to eat food she was positive nobody’d used as a missile.

By the time Richard Dreyfuss’s character flew off in an airplane, Amanda had kicked off her shoes and the champagne bottle was half-empty.

“He never even got to meet her,” Daniel complained.

They’d both editorialized throughout the movie, sharing surprise, suspense and laughter.

Amanda raised her glass. “She will forever remain the mystery woman.”

“That sucks.”

“It’s fiction.”

“It still sucks.”

She laughed.

Daniel set down his glass. “A guy shouldn’t let opportunities like that go by.”

“Kiss ye blond bombshells while ye may?”

“Something like that.”

She gathered the remains of their impromptu picnic and padded barefoot over to the bar, the carpet soft against her feet. “We should probably get back to the party,” she offered reluctantly.

He stood up behind her, the glasses clinking together as he lifted them from the table. “I guess we should. We never did find the ice bucket.”

“I have a feeling nobody’s going to notice missing ice at this point.” She turned around and came face-to-face with him, or rather face-to-chest, since he was a good six inches taller now that she wasn’t wearing shoes.

He reached around her and set the glasses on the bar. “Not if they kept drinking that punch, they won’t.”

She shuddered again at the memory.

“Amanda?” His voice sounded unnaturally low.

She tipped up her chin to look at him. “Yes?”

He cocked his head sideways, and she was suddenly aware of a shift in the atmosphere.

“I was thinking,” he said, moving almost imperceptibly closer.

His closeness should have made her feel crowded, but it didn’t. His shoulders were broad. His chest was deep. And he towered over her, but she didn’t feel the least bit intimidated.

She drew in a breath and smelled his spicy, masculine scent. “Thinking about what?”

“Missed opportunities.” He smoothed a wisp of hair that had escaped near her temple.

She was pretty sure she wasn’t misunderstanding his signals. But the thought of Daniel Elliott coming on to her was so far out in left field.

“You mean, the movie?” she asked.

“I mean graduation.”

Confused, she squinted at him.

“We might never see each other again,” he said.

“We might not,” she agreed. Their paths barely crossed in the same school, never mind when she was at NYU and he was globe-trotting in search of exciting magazine stories.

“So…” he breathed.

“So?” she returned.

“What do we do about that?”

She watched his eyes darken, his smile fade, his lips part.

“Daniel?”

“It’s now or never, Amanda.” He smoothed his palm over her cheek, ever so slowly, giving her time to adjust to the change of mood, plenty of time to protest.

He twined his fingers into her hair, stroking her scalp. “I’m about to kiss you,” he rasped.

“I know,” she whispered, longing for his kiss.

It was perfect. It was right. Somehow she knew, intellectually, emotionally, cosmically, that this kiss at this moment was absolutely meant to be.

His lips touched hers. Firm, then tender, then moist, then hot.

She wound her arms around his neck, answering his pressure, parting her lips and tilting her head to deepen the kiss. Desire surged up inside her. She went hot, then cold, then hot all over again.

It was Daniel—Daniel Elliott—kissing her, holding her. His scent mingled with flowers. His taste overpowered the chocolate and champagne. Her skin prickled and her blood sang. She’d never felt remotely like this before.

Sparks of desire shot through her. She’d kissed boys before, but never like this, never where their touch took control of her body and soul.

She wanted it harder. She wanted it deeper. She parted her lips, inviting him in.

His tongue invaded her mouth, and she nearly whimpered with the pleasure.

His free arm circled her waist, settling across the small of her back, anchoring her firmly against his hardening body.

Yes. Closer, tighter. She wound her arms around his neck, pressing against him, tilting her head to deepen the kiss.

An ocean roared in her ears, and her hands clenched convulsively against him.

The kiss went on and on. He swirled his tongue through her tender mouth. She opened wider, answering him back.

A sound emerged from deep in his chest as he arched her backward, over the bar.

One strong hand traveled up her spine, traversing to settle on her rib cage, thumb barely brushing the underside of her breast. She felt her nipples tighten, sparks of pleasure shooting through her.

She wished he’d touch her, but she was too afraid to ask.

Then his other hand stroked down her neck. She tensed. She waited. And then his fingertips moved to her breast. She all but bucked under the intense sensation.

“Amanda,” he rasped.

Her breath came in pants and she slid her palms up his chest, slipping beneath his suit jacket, working her way to the heat of his back and pressing her breasts harder into his hands. Her world contracted to him and her.

No wonder her friends got so carried away. No wonder they made love with their boyfriends in the back seats of cars and beneath the stadium bleachers. At the moment, she couldn’t have cared less where they were.

A pounding need echoed in her brain and blotted out time, space and reason.

“Daniel.” Her voice turned his name into a plea.

“This is—” He kissed her again and his hands burned through her silk halter dress. His thumb circled her hardened nipple, shooting sparks to the core of her being. She never knew such sensations existed.

Gone was modesty. Gone was shyness. She wanted Daniel with every single fiber of her being. Wanted him in a way she’d never wanted anybody ever before.

He moved to her neck, kissing her roughly, fiercely, abrading her tender skin with delicious furor.

She tipped her head back to give him better access. Her breath hissed through her teeth, and she tightened her grip on his back. His jacket had to go. She wanted to touch his skin, to feel his fire.

He kissed her shoulder. His lips moved to the hollow between her breasts, and she moaned in wanting. His hands went to the halter tie at the back of her neck.

“Tell me to stop,” he demanded, even as he worked the knot. He breathed her in, his hot tongue flicking out to taste her skin.

“Don’t stop,” she said, breathless with need. “Don’t stop.” Electricity pulsed at the apex of her thighs, making her nearly desperate to assuage the burning need.

“Amanda,” he groaned. The bow came free, and the slinky fabric slipped down to her waist.

Daniel drew back, his gaze fixed on her bare breasts.

She arched her spine, closing her eyes, boldly raking her fingers back through her hair and shaking it loose.

Daniel swore through clenched teeth. “You’re beautiful,” he groaned.

“Unbelievably beautiful.” His hand closed over her breast, and she moaned at the intense sensation.

She felt beautiful. For the first time in her life she felt beautiful and desirable and totally unselfconscious about her body.

She pushed his jacket from his shoulders, desperate to feel his skin next to hers. She might not know much, but she did know his clothes had to go.

The jacket hit the floor, and she went to work on his tie.

He sucked in a tight breath as she loosened it.

“Amanda.” His voice sounded desperate.

She kissed his mouth again, flipping open the buttons on his shirt.

“We can stop,” he hissed. “It’ll kill me, but we can still…”

Finally, skin. Her lips touched his bare chest, and his entire body convulsed.

“We’re not stopping,” she breathed against his warm skin. Of all the options in all the world, stopping right now was not one of them.

“Thank God.” He found the tip of her breast and did something that made her knees nearly give way.

He clasped her tightly against him.

Then he lifted her into his arms, kissing her mouth as he strode for the bedroom doors.

She ran her fingers over his chest, reveling in the sparse, soft hair, palming his flat nipples, wondering if she was making him feel the same sensations.

He moaned her name one more time as he shakily set her on her feet next to the bed. Then he pulled her against his bare chest for another long kiss.