Maybe Someday(123)

hands, waiting.

I sign the words “I love you.”

His eyebrows draw apart, and relief floods his

eyes. He lowers his mouth to my hands and

kisses them, over and over, then quickly pulls

farther away, unwrapping my legs from around

his waist. Just when I begin to fear he’s come to

some absurd notion that we need to stop, he

lowers himself to my side but leans over me and

presses his ear against my chest.

“I want to feel you say it.”

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I press my lips into his hair, then lightly secure

him against me. “I love you, Ridge,” I whisper.

His grip tightens around my waist, so I contin-

ue repeating it several times.

I keep his head pressed against my chest with

both hands. He releases his grip on my waist and

trails his hand over my stomach, causing my

muscles to clench beneath his touch. He contin-

ues stroking his hand in sensuous circles over my

stomach. I stop repeating the words and focus on

where his hand is traveling, but he stops abruptly.

“I don’t feel you saying it,” he says.

“I love you,” I quickly repeat. When the words

leave my lips, his fingers begin moving again. As

soon as I’m quiet, his fingers stop.

It doesn’t take me long to figure out what

game he’s playing. I grin and say it again.

“I love you.”

His fingers slip inside the top edge of my

panties, and my voice grows quiet again. It’s

really hard for me to speak when his hand is that

close. It’s really hard to do anything. His fingers

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come to a pause just inside my panties when he

doesn’t feel me talking. I want his hand to keep

moving, so I somehow breathe the words.

“I love you.”

His hand slides further inside and stops. I close

my eyes and say it again. Slowly.

“I . . . love . . . you.”

What he does next with his hand causes me to

repeat the words again instantly.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And again and again and again, until my

panties are somewhere on the floor, and I’ve said

the words so many times and so fast that I’m al-

most screaming them now. He continues to prove

with the expertise of his hand that he’s quite pos-

sibly the absolute best listener I’ve ever

encountered.

“I love you,” I whisper one last time between

faltered and shallow breaths. I’m too weak to ut-

ter the words again, and my hands fall away from

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his head and land against the mattress with a

thud.

He lifts his head away from my chest and

scoots upward until his face is so close to mine

our noses brush. “I love you, too,” he says with a

smug grin.

I smile, but my smile fades when he rolls away

from me, leaving me alone on the bed. I’m too

exhausted and spent to reach out for him.

However, he returns to the bed as quickly as he

left it. He tears open a condom wrapper and

keeps his eyes focused on mine, never once look-

ing away.

The way he’s looking at me, as if I’m the only

thing that matters in his world, makes the mo-

ment take on a whole new feel. I’m completely

consumed, not by waves of pleasure but by

waves of raw emotion. I didn’t know I could feel

someone this much. I didn’t know I could need

someone this much. I had no idea I was capable

of sharing this kind of connection with someone.

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Ridge lifts a hand and wipes away a tear from

my temple, then dips his head and kisses me,

gentle and soft, coaxing even more tears out of

me. It’s the perfect kiss for the perfect moment. I

know he feels what I’m feeling, because my tears

don’t alarm him at all. He knows they’re not tears

of regret or sadness. They’re simply tears. Emo-

tional tears stemming from an emotional moment

that I never imagined could be this incredible.

He’s waiting patiently for my permission, so I

nod softly, and it’s all the confirmation he needs.

He lowers his cheek to mine and slowly begins to

ease himself against me. I squeeze my eyes shut

and focus on trying to relax, but my entire body

is way too tense.

I’ve only ever had sex with one guy, and he

didn’t mean half as much to me as Ridge does.

The thought of sharing this experience with

Ridge, as much as I want to, makes me so

nervous I’m physically unable to hide my

discomfort.

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He can sense my apprehension, so he pauses

and stills himself above me. I love how in tune he

is with me already. He looks down at me, his

dark brown eyes searching mine. He takes both

of my hands and pulls them over my head, then