She twisted but he kept his hands on her shoulders, refusing to let her turn around and look at him. "When you are ready, Halley. I won't push you."
She sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. "I don't love you, Mike."
"Yes, you do."
She shook her head. "No, Mike. I can't love someone and then think such horrible things about you like I did today. As soon as I saw you with that woman and those beautiful girls, I assumed the worst."
"That's just your fears talking, Halley. You know where we're heading, where this relationship is heading. And it scares you."
She didn't reply to that, not sure she could accurately argue with him. His words … they made sense. She was afraid of him. She was terrified of what he could make her feel. "Mike … I'm sorry," she muttered, bowing her head.
"Don't be," he said and kissed the base of her neck. "I like the fact that you were jealous of me."
Her whole body stiffened. "I wasn't jealous!"
He laughed again. "You were jealous. And it gave me hope, love."
She started to pull out of his arms, but he wouldn't let her. "Nope, you're not leaving me, Halley. I've been worried about you all day. You disappeared after leaving your parent's house and I'm mad at you," he explained while his hands slipped underneath her shirt. "You won't tell me where you went even though some crazy person has repeatedly snuck into your house." His hands cupped her breasts and he would have smiled at her gasp, but he really was furious with her now. "You put me through hell this afternoon when I couldn't find you and you weren't answering your phone." His hands pinched her nipples, making her jerk backwards. "So now you have to pay the price."
She wasn't in love, she told herself, even though every cell in her body ached with the pain in his words. He said he was angry, but she could tell that there was something more, something he wasn't telling her. He was hurt. She wanted to soothe him, to tell him what she'd been doing all afternoon, but …
"You're not ready to explain," he said, his voice low and gravelly in her ear. His thumbs were soothing her breasts now and she could breathe more easily.
Until he moved lower, unzipping her jeans and standing up so that he could slide her clothes off. They fell to the floor in an almost silent whisper. The only sounds now were her heavy breathing as she waited for whatever he would do to her next. Every touch was like a sensual promise and she loved the way he made love to her.
She wasn't even aware of her hands gripping his thighs behind her. All she knew was his hands moving up and down her back, slipping around her waist and then higher to cup her breasts once again. He didn't touch her nipples now, even though she needed it badly.
She heard his own clothes fall to the floor but he wouldn't allow her to turn around and face him. "Stand still," he commanded, then ran his thumb up her spine. Halley hadn't ever thought of her back as being very sexual. It was just sort of there behind her. But Mike knew. Mike seemed to understand her body better than she did.
When there was no more noise behind her, she felt his hands pull her back. Halley had always loved his chest and shoulders. So when she felt his chest against her back, her pulse skyrocketed. Not to mention, that other favorite part of him that was now pressing against her bottom. She tried to move away from that erection, thinking that she was hurting him but his hands moved down to her hips, pulling her hard against that protrusion.
"Put your hands on the bed, Halley," he told her.
She didn't immediately understand, but she followed his order. Mostly because he pressed a hand between her shoulder blades so that she was following his command. But she was also curious about what he might do next. This was all so new to her and, so far, he hadn't done anything that didn't give her the most incredible pleasure.
With her hands resting against the end of the bed, she felt his fingers probing her heat and gasped, her head flinging backwards. Looking behind her, she tried to understand what he wanted of her, but his eyes were looking down at her bottom, his hands exploring her back and her core with those magic fingers that she couldn't, didn't want to, avoid.
Those fingers knew her, knew when to flick that sensitive nubbin, when to pull away, when to slide across her and press into her. It was as if he were playing some sort of music and she was his instrument, his eyes focused on his task.
When she heard the foil tear open, she sighed, knowing that relief was soon to be hers. But this new position had him going deeper and at a different angle. She wasn't sure, but … "Mike!" she gasped, wiggling her hips to accommodate his size.