Second Time's the Charm

“Then I’ll hang around until you do,” she said.

“I mean it, Lillie.” Turning, he looked her right in the eye. “I don’t want you tainted by your association to me. You’ve got a life you love here, the respect of everyone in this town. I can’t let you jeopardize that.”

“Too late,” she said. “I’m already in as deeply as I can be. And it’s my choice, Jon, not yours.”

Jumping up she massaged her hands up the back of his neck, across his shoulders and down the middle of his spine. He’d let her touch him before. And he did then, too.

Which gave her the answer she needed.

“You’re that sure of me?”

She couldn’t lie to him. “I’m that sure that I have to see this through,” she said, working on his upper arm. “Let’s go into the other room.”

Jon didn’t argue. Taking their glasses, he led her into the living room.

“Lie down on the couch.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“How else am I going to get your lower back and legs?”

She couldn’t have sex with him. They weren’t a couple just yet. But she could still find the physical connection she was craving—and knew he needed. It wasn’t about pleasure or orgasm. It was about closeness.

Feeling the life in each other.

And maybe, infusing him with some of the same strength he’d given her.

* * *

LILLIE’S HANDS WERE driving him crazy. Turning him on beyond anything he’d known before. Even with her.

What if this was his last night of freedom?

Panic rose. Her fists ground into his calves. And he had to have her.

“Stop.” The word was as painful as it sounded to his ears. Strangled and desperate.

“Am I hurting you?” The soft warm flesh left his body, leaving him bereft.

“No.” Rolling over, Jon didn’t even try to hide his hard-on pushing against the fly of his jeans. “Just the opposite. You’re making me want you so badly I’m in pain.”

Her eyes were smoky. Darker than usual. Her hair fell forward, whispering against the skin on his forearm.

Lillie leaned forward, bringing her lips down to his, opening her mouth to caress his tongue.

“Lil? I’m not strong enough to do the right thing tonight.”

“What’s the right thing?”

“Leaving you alone to get on with your life. I’m no good for you, not long-term. And certainly not short-term.”

“You’re perfect for me.”

“I can’t do this to you.”

“It’s not like we haven’t had sex before,” she said, grinning and sounding serious, too. “Not that long ago, as a matter of fact.”

It seemed like years. Months. And, as he caught a whiff of her shampoo, merely hours.