* * *
“The dorm’s not so bad,” he said hopefully, looking around the tiny space, thinking of the penthouse he’d wanted her to move into while she was at college. A gorgeous view of downtown Boston, space to stretch out in, and luxury furnishings. A far cry from the dorms of Boston College. He’d bought it, anticipating her agreement. Only she’d flat out refused to be kept by him. Her independence was infuriating, but also, it just made him love her more.
“Not so bad! Talk about damning with faint praise.” When she spun around to face him, her eyes were glowing with excitement. “It’s perfect.”
“Your enthusiasm is perfect,” he corrected, pulling her into his arms. He looked over at the spare side of the tiny space. “Room mate?”
Annabeth’s grin unfurled slowly, like a flower opening its bloom. She linked her arms behind Kirk’s back, holding him tight. “Apparently she had a last minute change of plans. I won’t have a room mate. This semester, at least.”
He raised his brows, and his whole body responded with the realization that they were alone. That she was no longer a high school senior. She was in college, and she was his. And he loved her with all his heart. She was no longer forbidden to him by his own code of moral conduct. When he kissed her, he could still taste the strawberries on her lips that they’d shared after dinner. He groaned, running his hands through her beautiful hair, so fair it shone like gold dust in the flickering fluorescent light of the dorm room.
Annabeth had been kissed by Kirk before, but she knew this was a kiss that was leading somewhere, and she could hardly breathe for the excitement that was flowing through her body. “Kirk,” she whispered, urgently, her hands pushing at his shirt, straining for contact with his beautiful body.
He laughed, but he was equally desperate. He tore at his shirt, pulling it free, and holding her against his bare chest. She kissed him. His muscled belly, his nipples, his neck, she drove her mouth over his skin, driving him wild with her sweetly tentative attentions. He growled low in his throat as he slipped the straps down from her dress. It was a long, flowing dress, pale pink that set off her tan, and when he pushed the straps down over her smooth shoulders, the whole thing slipped off her body.
He swallowed. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and her underwear was just a tiny, pale thong. He tilted his head back. It was the first time he’d seen her naked, and it was a vision he would take with him to his grave.
He moved his lips over her shoulder, thinking that her whole body tasted sweet like candy, like she was. Delicious and edible, and totally heaven-sent. Without realizing what he was doing, he pushed her with his body, back onto the firm mattress of her dorm bed.
“Kirk, I want you so bad,” she whispered, and as she fell backwards, her hair formed a perfect halo of gold around her face.
“I know.” He smiled. “Me too.”
“Please, don’t make me wait any longer.”
“Sweetheart, even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. My self-control is about all worn out.”
He kicked his jeans off, then his boxers, and brought his naked body down on hers. Beth’s face was flushed, and he recalled then that this was the first time she’d seen a man’s body. Completely exposed to the raw strength of his arousal.
“Don’t be nervous,” he whispered against her neck, flicking the skin there with his tongue.
“I’m not. I’m just… impressed,” she said frankly, earning a slow laugh from her boyfriend.
“I won’t hurt you.”
“I know.”
He ran his hands down her body, her breasts, so small and rounded, her flat chest, to the apex of curls that protected her womanhood. He kissed her lips, and while his mouth worked on hers, he slipped a finger inside her core. She bucked against him, pleasure shooting little arrows of delight through her body. She was so wet he felt his own arousal tense in recognition.
He was so caught up in the moment that he almost forgot to use protection. But his job in life was to protect Beth. He would never put her at risk. Quickly, because his need was great, he sheathed himself, then came to hover over her.
“You tell me if I hurt you, Annabeth Sparks,” he whispered against her mouth. His chin was stubbled and the sensation of it rubbing against her cheek made her body throb. Every nerve ending was sensitized to the point of pain. She was a raw pool of lust.
“Please, Kirk,” she begged, and instinctively, she arched her back, giving him access. He took it, easing himself into her as slowly as his control allowed. He met that invisible, inevitable barrier and forced himself to stop, to check her reaction. Beth’s face showed pain and discomfort briefly, but then pleasure sagged through her, as he rolled her nipples with his thumb and forefinger, and gently continued to push into her.
“You’re so tight,” his voice was hoarse. “So wet.”
She tilted her head back, as sensation began to make her body tremble. Her honey colored skin was sheened with a fine film of perspiration. He wanted to hold her close as she came. He pulled her arms, lifting her from the bed, and held her against his chest. “I’ve got you, Beth,” he murmured against her ear. “You can let go.”
And he moved inside of her, holding her writhing form in his arms, as she experienced her first orgasm. She shook, and she cried out, and a single tear rolled down her cheek. He caught it with his tongue. “You are amazing,” he said, kissing her lips and easing her back on the mattress.
“No,” she disagreed. “You are amazing. I’m just lucky.”
CHAPTER THREE
“Damn, damn and blast,” she swore, hitting the steering wheel in angry frustration. “Don’t give up on me now, girl.” She flicked the key in the ignition, waiting for it to spark to life. It turned over once, made a low, keening noise, then shuddered to a decisive halt. “Oh, crap.” She looked down at her wristwatch, impatiently. She had to open the bar or she’d have a line of angry locals on her hands.
Her old car was a bucket of rust. Even more so now than it had been when she had been in school. But it had always been reliable. Now, it seemed to have colluded with destiny, and broken down just a hundred yards from the wrought iron gates of La Cachette, the Robinson family plantation. Well, wild horses and unreliable Fords couldn’t make Annabeth ask Kirk for help.
It was a boiling hot Alabama afternoon. The sun was shining but the air was still. Not even a hint of a breeze coming off the bay. Without the car’s ancient air conditioning, she was boiling alive. Annabeth swung her legs out of the driver’s side and jumped down. The road was shimmering in the haze of the heat.
As she pulled her cell phone out to call for help, the sound of an approaching engine made her breathe a sigh of relief. In a small town like Clearview, locals helped one another. She turned around, in the direction of the engine, a broad smile on her face.
Kirk had picked her a mile off. He’d hated the piece of crap she’d driven back then. And for some reason, he hated it just as much now, though she was no longer anything to do with him. Slowly, from the obscurity of his darkly tinted windows, he let himself drink in her appearance fully. He’d thought of little else but Annabeth Sparks since two nights ago, when he’d seen her again. It was through sheer force of will power alone that he hadn’t gone back to The Whistlestop the following night.
Dressed now in a pair of denim cut-offs and a tight white t-shirt, with ballet slippers on her feet and her hair piled into a big, messy bun on top of her head, she looked every bit as sexy as he’d remembered. He killed his engine and climbed from the car.
“Trouble?”
Of course it was Kirk. The one person to drive by in her moment of need happened to be the one person she wanted nothing more to do with. Ever.
“No. Just frying myself on the side of the road for no good reason,” she snapped tartly.
He tossed her a sidelong glance. “Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, Beth.”
“Hey, what are you doing?” She squealed, as he brushed past her and reached into her car. He pulled a lever and the bonnet clicked up.
He turned back to face her, clearly impatient. “What does it look like?”
“Come on, Kirk. You’re not a mechanic.”
He slanted her a look of seething annoyance. “No. But I know my way around machines far more sophisticated than this.”
She closed her eyes. The only thing they’d argued about when they were together was Kirk’s insistence on signing up for the bomb disposal unit of the Navy. His job was dangerous and unpredictable, and she’d hated that. She’d hated it with a passion, to think of him wading into the most deadly countries in the world, cutting wires and pulling pins.
“The hydraulics supports are broken.” His tone was accusing. “You’re going to have to hold the hood. Can you manage?”
She glared at him. “Of course I can.”
His eyes warred with hers, silently challenging her. “Fine. Come here then.”
Annabeth held her ground. “Kirk, just leave it. I can call a friend for a ride and get Pete to come have a look at the car.”
“Pete should be in prison for keeping this thing on the road. Apart from anything, it’s an environmental disaster.”