It Happened on Maple Street

“Listen, we can stay at Mike’s if you want, but Mom and Jeff are both gone for the night, which means we’d have the whole house to ourselves all night long and I was thinking . . .”

“You want to go to Maple Street.”

“Yeah.” He wanted to be naked with her in the worst way. To start the New Year naked with her.

“Okay.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

She smiled at him, and the world was good.

Nine

IT WAS FREEZING OUTSIDE, AND AS WE RAN FROM TIM’S car to the house on Maple Street later that night, I had a brief flash of our lives ahead—Tim and I married, going to family parties, and ending up at home alone.

I ached for that future.

And for him.

He did something with my coat when we got in the door and then came to stand toe-to-toe with me, pulling me into him, and opened his mouth over mine.

I’d worried about this night. Had even thought about calling Tim and canceling. He hadn’t said another word about us or his feelings for me since the night of the Christmas party, and I needed to make love with him.

I was in serious danger of becoming a woman I wouldn’t be able to live with.

And when he kissed me, I couldn’t deny the love I felt for him. We were eighteen. Adults.

Consenting adults.

With his lips still touching mine, moving on mine, he walked me backward until my legs came up against a mattress. We were in the first bedroom we’d come to. Tim pulled down the covers. I was so on fire for him, I didn’t really care.

He nudged me, and I went down, holding my arms up as he came to me. My lower belly was on fire, I was wet between my legs, and I throbbed in places I didn’t know a woman throbbed.

I wasn’t going to make love with him. I knew he wouldn’t ask. But beyond that, I

might not say no. I wanted to have limits. To say no.

Sort of.

I knew I should want to.

I wanted to be a good girl. A decent woman. A Harlequin heroine.

I wanted to let my emotions go with him. Like I almost had that night in his car. I wanted him to let go, too.

Tim kissed me, or I kissed him. I didn’t recognize the woman in his arms. She pushed up his sweater and ran her hands along his chest. And as she touched him, as I touched him, I felt another pool of heat between my legs. I was empty there. I needed to be filled.

Tim pulled at my sweater and I sat up, letting him take it off me.

“You’re sure we’ll be alone all night?”

“Positive.” He was unbuttoning my blouse. I wanted his sweater off him.

It joined my blouse wherever he let them go. He undid my bra, too. I lay back in the bed, the sheets cool, soft, against my bare skin—in direct contrast to Tim’s heat as his bare chest met my bare chest for the first time.

I almost couldn’t stand the pleasure. My hips came up off the bed, seeking—I wasn’t really sure what. There was so much I didn’t know. But my body knew. And it was pushing me toward a new world. One it had to have.