A Kiss To Remember
She scowled at him but he didn’t scowl back. All the anger seemed to melt from his face as a tender expression took over. ‘I don’t think there’s anything stupid at all about being a virgin in this day and age,’ he said softly. ‘But since I’ve spoilt you for any other man so far, then the least I can do is undo the damage I’ve done.’
‘What... what do you mean?’
‘I mean, Angie, my sweet,’ he said, kissing her lightly on the lips, ‘that you’re quite right. It is high time you lost your virginity, but I also think your first experience should be with someone you really fancy, not some bloke you’ve picked up at a party. There’s nothing special about a one-night stand. Therefore I’m volunteering to be your first lover.’
‘But I thought... I mean—’
‘Don’t think, Angie,’ he cut in with a strangely gentle firmness. ‘Just do as I say and everything’ll be fine. Firstly, tonight is not the right time, and this car is certainly not the right place for such an important occasion in your life. We’ll put all this fantastic bottled up passion of yours on hold for another twenty-four hours,’ he murmured, encircling her mouth with a fingertip till her lips gasped apart and a shudder of delight rippled through her.
‘God, but it’s going to be good, Angie,’ he promised huskily, taking his finger away to kiss her again.
‘But I thought you’d be going back to Melbourne tomorrow,’ she protested weakly, everything already going crazy in her head.
‘No. I was never going to do that. As for now... I’m going to get out of this car, if I can. You’d better put your tights and shoes back on before you do, though. And do up your jacket. I’ve pretty well ruined that dress, I’m afraid. But no worries. I’ll buy you another tomorrow.’
Angie sat there in a stunned state while he climbed over her out of the car. He groaned as he straightened, probably because of the muscle strain of being squashed up on his haunches for so long. Finally, as though mesmerised, Angie did as he suggested, pulling her tights back on and buttoning up her jacket so the undoubtedly ruined dress would not show. She was dimly conscious that underneath her clothes her body was still aroused, her nipples still distended, the area between her thighs acutely aware of the snugly fitting underwear.
But her still being turned on physically took second place behind the emotion which welled up within her soul when Lance leant into the car and took her hand in his. His tender smile sent tentacles of warmth curling round her heart, evoking all those old feelings which had besieged her that long-ago summer—feelings which had nothing to do with lust. When he drew her from the car and upwards, everything around him went out of focus. Her eyes locked on to his and nothing else existed for her but Lance—his face, his eyes, and the love she imagined she saw in their brilliant blue depths.
It was his mouth crashing back down on to hers which snapped her back to reality. For Lance didn’t love women. He only made love to them.
Oddly enough, this renewal of her knowledge of Lance’s character no longer had the power to turn Angie off. She’d gone beyond that now. Once back in his arms, she was too weak to fight his incredible appeal.
She did what he told her to do. She stopped thinking. Her arms wound around his waist then up his back. Her tongue darted forward to move past his and into his mouth, sending wild tremors of pleasure down her spine.
It was Lance who drew back first, his face actually flushed, his breathing ragged. ‘Hell, Angie, we have to stop this, or I’ll never last the distance.’
‘We, Lance?’ she teased softly, while trying to get her own rampant desire under control. ‘You kissed me, remember?’
‘Yeah, but did you have to be so co-operative?’
‘Yes.’
Their eyes clashed, Lance shaking his head then smiling with rueful acceptance of her honesty. ‘You always were a one-off experience, Angie. Come on, let’s get inside before someone realises we’re missing.’
‘What time is it?’ she asked as they made their way together up the driveway.
‘Eleven-thirty.’