In Harmony(116)

We curled our sides, facing each other, our hands entwined and legs tangled. Kissing until fatigue finally took Isaac under, his lips still on mine.

“You fell asleep on me,” I murmured against his mouth. “In the middle of kissing.”

I drank him in a few moments more, then rolled over to tuck my back against his chest.

“Willow,” he said, against my neck.

“I thought you were asleep.”

“I was resting my eyes.”

I laughed in my throat, too tired to do anything else.

“Have to tell you something,” he said. “Very important.”

“Hm?”

“I’ll never love anyone but you.”





I opened my eyes and sunlight flooded my room. The clock read ten in the morning. I’d never slept so late in my life.

I was still tangled with Isaac, his body pressed to mine, holding me tight. I snuggled deeper against him, letting my fingers trail down his arms, skimming the words tattooed on his left forearm:

I burn, I pine, I perish.

My fingers kept going, down over his bruised knuckles. I told him once that beating up Xavier wouldn’t help me. Looking at the wounds now, I couldn’t help feel they were physical proof Isaac would hurt anyone that hurt me, including himself.

“No more hurt,” I whispered, and kissed his knuckles.

He stirred and his lips brushed against my neck.

“I like your house,” he said. “I love you in it. You belong here.”

I rolled over to face him. “What about you? Where do you belong?”

“With you. If you want me.”

“So much.” I kissed his lips, the cut on the corner, his chin. “But can you be happy here? What about your career? What about Hollywood?”

“I’m done with Hollywood. It gave me what I needed and I got the hell out. I’m not going back.”

“Broadway?”

“For me or for you?”

I covered my face. “Oh my God, not me.”

He pulled my hands away. “Yes, you. You’re brilliant, baby. The world should know it. But there’s no rush. I can stay here. I want to stay here. I’ve seen Harmony through your eyes and…” He shrugged. “It’s home. I want to build a life here with you.”

“You do?”

“Promise.” He smiled. “Marty’s already cast us in the next Shakespeare.”

I dropped my gaze. “There might not be a theater, Isaac. Xavier told me he’d buy it and have it razed.”

Isaac’s eyes darkened. “I’ll buy it.”

My eyes widened. “You can do that?”

He pulled me close. “I can. I will. I’ll buy it and give it to Marty. Or set it up with the city so that Marty can run it for as long as he wants.”

“Oh my God, he’ll be so happy.”

“What about you? I want you to be happy, too. That’s all I’ll ever want for the rest of my life.”

I slid my palm over his cheek. “I’m happy. Right now, I don’t think I could be happier.”

He inclined his head to kiss me, deeply, and I felt his body come awake against mine.

“Sorry,” he started to say but I shook my head.

“Don’t be.” I kissed him again, harder. “Isaac, I don’t want to stop this time.”

He pulled back to look at me. “You sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

He kissed me again, pulling me closer. My body let go of old fear, leaving only the intense desire to have Isaac in every way. To be enveloped by him completely, skin to skin. Not smothered and choking but holding him and being held. Letting him inside me because I wanted him everywhere.

His kiss was slow and deep, telling me we were going to take our time. His hands slid up my back and into my hair. He groaned softly, making fists in the thick waves. I loved how he touched me. As if he couldn’t get enough but would wait forever if I needed him to.

No more waiting.

My hands slipped around his neck, down over his chest and back up again, greedy for all of him. I didn’t want to stop kissing him but I needed to see him.

“Take this off,” I said, pulling at his shirt.

He yanked it over his head, tossed it aside, then lay back on the pillows, pulling me on top of him. A shiver shot up my spine at the sheer masculine beauty of his body. He was mine to touch and explore, however I wanted. My hands skimmed over the smooth planes of him, down to the contours of his abdomen. Muscle and power thrumming under my fingers. An energy that drew me toward him, falling forward on my hands and kissing him hard.

His fists in my hair tightened and then slipped down my back to my waist, curved around my ass, then glided up under my shirt. The sensation of his hands on me filled me with need. To touch and be touched. To give him more. Our mouths took back all the kisses we’d missed. Our hands sought to reclaim every lost touch. Our bodies craved the other, starving and desperate and needing to be satiated.

I sat up on his lap, stripped off my T-shirt, letting my hair fall down around my shoulders and breasts. Isaac stared, his pulse jumping in his throat. I waited, trembling, not with fear but anticipation of his hands on me. Or his mouth.

Or both.

He sat up and lifted the mass of hair off my neck. Strands stuck to my sweat dampened skin as the heat of the day intensified in my little house.