Every Breath(40)

“I wasn’t sure I’d catch you. I thought you might be out somewhere.”

She heard him slur his words and realized he’d been drinking.

“I’m here.”

“I just came in from the pool for a few minutes. It’s pretty hot out there. How are you?”

Tru sat unmoving and silent at the table. He was so near…

Noting the way his shirt hugged his body, she sensed the muscles beneath the fabric, remembering the feel of his hand on her hip.

“I’m fine,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant. “You?”

“I’m doing great,” he said. “I won some money last night playing blackjack.”

“Good for you.”

“How’s the cottage? Good weather at the beach?”

“It’s raining right now, and it’s supposed to last through the weekend.”

“I’ll bet Ellen’s upset, huh?”

“Yes,” Hope answered, and for an awkward moment there was silence on both ends.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked. She could almost see his frown. “You seem quiet.”

“I told you I’m fine.”

“It seems like you’re still angry with me.”

“What do you think?” She fought to keep her irritation under control.

“Don’t you think you might be overreacting?”

“I’d rather not talk about it on the phone,” she said.

“Why not?”

“Because this is something we should do face-to-face.”

“I don’t know why you’re acting like this,” he said.

“Then maybe you don’t know me at all.”

“Oh, come on. Don’t be so melodramatic…” She could hear the ice clink in his glass as he took a drink.

“I think I should go,” she said, cutting him off. “Bye.”

She could hear Josh continuing to argue even as she hung up the receiver.

Hope stared at the phone for a moment before letting her hand fall to her side. “I’m sorry about that,” she told Tru, sighing. “I probably shouldn’t have answered in the first place.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

On the radio, one song ended and another began. The music was plaintive, restless, and she watched as Tru rose from the table. He was so very close now; she could feel her back pressing against the wall as he stared at her.

She met his gaze without wavering. He moved even closer.

She knew what was happening. No words were needed. She thought again that none of this could be real, but as his body pressed up against hers, it suddenly felt more real than anything she’d ever known.

She could still stop this. Maybe she should stop it. In a few days, he’d be half a world away, and the physical and emotional bond between them was destined to be broken. He would be hurt and she would be hurt, and yet— She couldn’t stop herself. Not anymore.

Rain sheeted against the windows and the clouds continued to flicker. Tru slipped his arm around her back, his eyes never leaving hers. His thumbs traced small circles and the fabric of her dress was thin and light enough for her to feel as if she had nothing on at all. She wondered whether he could tell she wasn’t wearing any panties, and felt herself growing wet.

He pulled her tightly against him, the heat of his body imprinting on her own. With a soft escape of breath, she put her arms around his neck. She could hear the music, and they began to rotate in a slow circle, his body swaying ever so slightly. He smiled then, as if inviting her into his world, and the last of her defenses began to crumble. She knew she wanted this. When she felt his breath on her neck, she trembled.

He kissed her gently on her earlobes and her cheek, leaving traces of moisture, and when his lips finally met hers, she felt him restraining himself, as if giving her one last chance to end it. The realization was exhilarating, almost liberating, and when he buried his hands in her hair, she parted her mouth. She heard a soft moan, barely recognizing it as her own, as their tongues came together. He ran his hands over her back and her arms and then her belly, the sensation like a trail of tiny electric shocks. He traced a finger beneath the swell of her breasts and her nipples hardened.

She could feel her body against his. She brought a hand to his cheek and ran her fingertips over the stubble as he moved back to her neck, nibbling softly while she caressed his chest. Finally, taking his hand, she led him to the bedroom.

In the bedroom mirror, she saw him watching her as she found the candles and matches and lit them, placing one candle on the end table and the other on the bureau. The dim light made shadows dance along the walls, and when Hope turned, their eyes met and all they could do was drink in the sight of each other.

She sensed his desire and allowed herself to soak it in before finally taking a step toward him. He did the same, the world between them shrinking, and when they kissed, she relished the moisture and warmth of his tongue. Untucking his shirt, she unbuttoned it slowly, and when it hung open, she traced her fingernail over his stomach and his hip bone. His body was hard and lithe, the muscles of his stomach visible, and she pulled the shirt over his shoulders, allowing it to fall to the floor.

Her mouth moved to his neck, and she bit gently at it as she reached for his belt. She unbuckled it, then undid the button on his jeans. As she began to slide the zipper down, she felt his hands begin to move over her breasts. Tugging at his pants, she slid them down and Tru stepped back. He untied his boots and slipped them off, his socks after that. Then came the jeans, and finally his boxers.