His hand reached my breasts, and I sucked in the air around me as it slipped between my sports bra and my skin.
With deepening urgency, his lips found mine, his tongue probing my mouth as his thumb flicked my hard nipple, tugging it until an electric pulse of need traveled down my body and into my lower abdomen.
When his hand cupped my breast completely, rough and gentle and strong, I thrust my hips against his, wanting so badly to feel him inside me. All those times I used my own hand, my own finger, what would it feel like with his hand, his fingers, his cock?
I'd read romance novels. I knew the carnal pleasures that could be had. I wasn't ashamed of my body or this need. My pussy ached for release, for his body to fill me, to stroke me, to bring me to climax.
Claiming my own boldness, I let my hand explore the hard contours of his muscles until I reached his throbbing cock. This time he moaned as I stroked him through his pants and my gloves.
The feel of him, so large and thick and hard, sent lightening through my body.
I didn't feel my own power open up and hitch a ride on this passion.
Didn't feel when it wormed its way into Derek through our skin-to-skin contact.
Didn't know I was slowly killing him until his kisses slowed and he lost his breath.
Looking into his eyes, I saw the light fade as his face lost its color, and I pulled away, putting emptiness between us.
Filling myself with emptiness.
My desire for him deepened, even as I tied my uniform back together.
My grief filled me, even as he moved to touch me.
"Rose, what's wrong?"
"Nothing. I just think we're moving a bit fast, and it's getting late. I need to get home." I waited for him to argue, to say that he didn't want me to leave, that he needed me as much as I needed him.
"Yeah, you're probably right. I'm sorry." He pressed his hand to his head. "I guess this worked me out harder than I realized. I'm feeling a bit lightheaded."
My heart dropped into my stomach as my worst fears were confirmed.
No matter what I did, I'd never escape this curse.
If I ever gave into my passions, I'd destroy us both.
SEVENTEEN
Live or Stay
ROSE
I must be gone and live, or stay and die.
— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet
"SO DON'T." OCEAN sat cross-legged on my bed, her wild curls tumbling down her back as she twirled one strand through her manicured fingers.
"Don't what?" I held up another dress, but she grimaced and shook her head.
I sighed and threw it on my bed with the others.
"Don't take it so far. Just date. Enjoy. Kiss a little. Hold hands. Don't let yourself get so hot and bothered that you start to lose it. He's stronger than you think, and so are you. You can learn to control this, just take it in small steps."
If I truly disagreed with her, I'd be cleaning my room of the mess I'd made and calling to cancel this whole crazy plan. And boy was it crazy.
I'd convinced Mother that I truly saw the error of my ways and needed time for a walk-about—private time for reflection and meditation as I prepared myself for the fight ahead.
She hadn't wanted to let me go, but the most unlikely advocate came to my defense—Blake.
In the end, she acquiesced, and I got the next twelve days to myself. I just had to be here in time to storm the castle, as it were. I honestly couldn't believe I'd won, and I'm not sure I'd have agreed to do this if I'd really thought I'd had a shot in hell at winning her over.
I pulled slacks and a blouse from my drawers. "This?"
Ocean heaved her breasts dramatically and yanked it out of my hands. "We seriously have to go shopping and get you some clothes that don't make you look like a total frump. You're about to embark on the most romantic almost two weeks of your life. You'll be alone. In a cabin. With your rich hunk of a boyfriend. You need sexy clothes, not prude clothes."
I fell back into a chair. "I give up. You pack. I'm done. Just make sure I have at least one pair of jeans, a comfortable pair of shoes in case we hike through forests, and something to wear to bed that isn't see-through."
She stuck her lower lip out in a mock pout. "You're no fun. But if I can pack the rest, then I give in to those demands, as long as you promise not to wear the same jeans and frump every day of the week."
With my vow to diversify, she went to work filling my suitcase with clothes from her closet, which scared the daylights of me.
"Okay, so let's say I just go and have fun and keep it from getting too hot. What's the point in all of this? I can't even tell him my real last name for fear he'll figure out who and what my family is. I certainly can't tell him that if we consummate our affections I'll likely kill him. That would put a serious damper on the romance, don't you think?"