Moving onto the bed beside her, he caressed her breasts and her belly. She nibbled softly on his lower lip even as her fingers pressed hard into his back, feeling beautiful in the candlelight, feeling desired in his arms. He slowly ran his tongue between her breasts and over her belly before coming back up. The next time, his mouth went even lower, and she knotted her fingers in his hair while his tongue teased and aroused her. It went on and on until she couldn’t take it anymore and she finally pulled him back to her, clinging to him, drawing him even closer.
He moved atop her then, radiating heat, and reaching for her hand, he kissed her fingertips one by one. He kissed her cheek and her nose, and then her mouth again, and when he finally entered her, she arched her back and moaned, knowing that she wanted him more than she’d ever wanted another man.
They moved together, both of them fully attuned to the other’s needs, each of them trying to please the other, and she felt her body shiver with growing urgency. When the massive wave of pleasure crested over her, she cried out, but as soon as the feeling passed, it began to build again. She climaxed over and over, an endless sequence of pleasure, and when he finally climaxed as well, Hope was exhausted, her body wet with perspiration. She was breathing hard as Tru held her. Even then, his hands never stopped moving over her skin, and as the candles burned lower, she let herself drift on the tide of what they had just shared.
Later, they made love again, this time more slowly, but with the same intensity. She climaxed even more powerfully than she had before and was shaking with exhaustion by the time he finished. She felt utterly spent, but as the storm outside continued to rage, unbelievably, she felt her desire begin to build again. A third time wasn’t possible, she thought, but it was, and only after she climaxed again was she was finally able to fall into a dreamless sleep.
In the morning, Hope woke to gray light streaming through the windows and the aroma of coffee drifting from the kitchen. She grabbed a robe from the bathroom and padded down the hallway, conscious of a ravenous hunger. Only then did she remember that they hadn’t eaten the night before.
Tru was at the table, and she noticed that he’d already set out scrambled eggs and sliced fruit. He was dressed in the same clothing he’d worn the night before. When he saw her, he stood from the table and wrapped his arms around her.
“Good morning,” he said.
“You, too,” she said. “Don’t kiss me, though. I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.”
“I hope you don’t mind that I made breakfast.”
“It’s perfect,” she said, admiring the spread. “How long have you been awake?”
“A couple of hours.”
“You didn’t sleep?”
“I slept enough.” He shrugged. “And I figured out how to work your coffee maker. Can I pour you a cup?”
“Definitely,” she said. She kissed him on the cheek and took a seat before scooping some eggs and fruit onto her plate. Beyond the glass, she noticed that the rain had stopped, but if the sky was any indication, the respite was only temporary.
Tru returned with her cup and set it beside her. “There’s milk and sugar on the table,” he said.
“I’m impressed you found everything.”
“I am, too,” he said, sitting beside her.
She thought about how much she cared about him and how natural the morning already felt. “Aside from making breakfast, what have you been doing?”
“I went next door and brought back some towels. A few other things, too.”
“Why did you need towels?”
“I wanted to dry off the chairs out on the deck,” he said.
“They’re just going to get wet again.”
“I know,” he said. “But I’m hoping I have some time before that happens.”
She studied him as she reached for her coffee. “You’re being very mysterious about all this. What’s going on?”
Reaching for her hand, he kissed the back of it. “I love you,” he said simply.
Hearing the words aloud made her feel suddenly dizzy, and she knew she felt exactly the same way about him.
“I love you, too,” she murmured.
“Then will you do something for me?”
“Anything.”
“After breakfast, will you sit outside for me?”
“Why?”
“I want to draw you,” he answered.
Startled, Hope nodded her assent.
After breakfast, she led the way outside, and Tru motioned to the chair. She took a seat, feeling strangely self-conscious, both hands cradling her cup of coffee.
“Should I put this down?” she asked, nodding at her cup.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“How do you want me to pose?”
He opened the sketchbook. “Just be yourself and pretend I’m not here.”
It wasn’t easy. No one had ever drawn her likeness before. She crossed one leg over the other, then tried again with the other leg. But what to do with the coffee? Again she debated setting the cup aside, but she took a sip instead. She leaned forward, then tried leaning back. She turned toward the house where Tru was staying, then toward the ocean, then back to Tru. Nothing felt right, but she noticed that he was staring at her with quiet concentration.
“How am I supposed to pretend you’re not here with you looking at me like that?”
“I don’t know,” he said with a laugh. “I’ve never been on the other side.”
“Some help you are,” she teased, and tucked a leg beneath her, trying to get comfortable. Better, she thought. Thankfully, Scottie had followed them out and she decided to focus on him as he lay curled beneath the kitchen window.
By then, Tru had descended into silence, and she watched him pick up the pencil. His eyes flickered from her to the sketch and back again, and she noted the confident movement of his hand as he drew and smudged with practiced ease. Occasionally he would squint or furrow his brow, and she knew he wasn’t even aware of it. Somehow, that flash of nakedness beneath his assured demeanor made her want him even more.
When the clouds began to darken again, they both knew it was time to stop.
“Would you like to see it? It’s not finished, but there’s enough to show the general idea.”
“Maybe after I shower,” she demurred, rising from her seat. Tru collected the pad and the pencils, and halting just inside the doorway, he kissed her tenderly. He pulled her close and she leaned into him, inhaling his scent, wondering again at the mysterious forces that had brought them together.
TOGETHER
After her shower, Hope sat beside Tru on the couch as he showed her his drawing of her, as well as others in his sketchbook. She took her time admiring them. Later, when the rain tapered off, they ventured out for lunch at a café on Ocean Isle Beach, while the storm rose to a fury beyond the windows.
When she finally had to start getting ready for the rehearsal dinner, Tru sat on the edge of the bed, his gaze steady in her direction. There was something about watching a woman put on makeup that he’d always found sexy, and he sensed that she enjoyed having him as an audience.
At the door, when it was time for her to leave, they kissed for a long time. He held her close, imprinting her body upon his, and stood on the front porch, waving as she pulled away. She’d asked him to take Scottie out later, and said he was welcome to stay at the cottage if he wished.
He made a quick trip next door to pick up a steak and some side items, and prepared the meal in Hope’s kitchen. As he ate, he tried to imagine Hope among her friends, wondering whether they would be able to see in her face all that had happened in the last few days.
He spent some time adding further detail to the drawing of her that he’d started earlier, stopping only when he was finally satisfied. Still not ready to put the pencils aside, however, he started another drawing of the two of them standing on the beach, facing each other in profile. She didn’t need to be there for that; it was enough to imagine the scene, and the work went quickly. By the time he stopped for the night, hours had passed, and he felt Hope’s absence like an ache.
She made it back to the cottage by midnight. They made love, but she was still exhausted from the night before, and soon after, he heard her breathing change as she fell asleep in his arms. For him, sleep was elusive. Their time together here would be ending soon, yet he knew she was the woman with whom he wanted to spend the rest of his life.
He moved atop her then, radiating heat, and reaching for her hand, he kissed her fingertips one by one. He kissed her cheek and her nose, and then her mouth again, and when he finally entered her, she arched her back and moaned, knowing that she wanted him more than she’d ever wanted another man.
They moved together, both of them fully attuned to the other’s needs, each of them trying to please the other, and she felt her body shiver with growing urgency. When the massive wave of pleasure crested over her, she cried out, but as soon as the feeling passed, it began to build again. She climaxed over and over, an endless sequence of pleasure, and when he finally climaxed as well, Hope was exhausted, her body wet with perspiration. She was breathing hard as Tru held her. Even then, his hands never stopped moving over her skin, and as the candles burned lower, she let herself drift on the tide of what they had just shared.
Later, they made love again, this time more slowly, but with the same intensity. She climaxed even more powerfully than she had before and was shaking with exhaustion by the time he finished. She felt utterly spent, but as the storm outside continued to rage, unbelievably, she felt her desire begin to build again. A third time wasn’t possible, she thought, but it was, and only after she climaxed again was she was finally able to fall into a dreamless sleep.
In the morning, Hope woke to gray light streaming through the windows and the aroma of coffee drifting from the kitchen. She grabbed a robe from the bathroom and padded down the hallway, conscious of a ravenous hunger. Only then did she remember that they hadn’t eaten the night before.
Tru was at the table, and she noticed that he’d already set out scrambled eggs and sliced fruit. He was dressed in the same clothing he’d worn the night before. When he saw her, he stood from the table and wrapped his arms around her.
“Good morning,” he said.
“You, too,” she said. “Don’t kiss me, though. I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.”
“I hope you don’t mind that I made breakfast.”
“It’s perfect,” she said, admiring the spread. “How long have you been awake?”
“A couple of hours.”
“You didn’t sleep?”
“I slept enough.” He shrugged. “And I figured out how to work your coffee maker. Can I pour you a cup?”
“Definitely,” she said. She kissed him on the cheek and took a seat before scooping some eggs and fruit onto her plate. Beyond the glass, she noticed that the rain had stopped, but if the sky was any indication, the respite was only temporary.
Tru returned with her cup and set it beside her. “There’s milk and sugar on the table,” he said.
“I’m impressed you found everything.”
“I am, too,” he said, sitting beside her.
She thought about how much she cared about him and how natural the morning already felt. “Aside from making breakfast, what have you been doing?”
“I went next door and brought back some towels. A few other things, too.”
“Why did you need towels?”
“I wanted to dry off the chairs out on the deck,” he said.
“They’re just going to get wet again.”
“I know,” he said. “But I’m hoping I have some time before that happens.”
She studied him as she reached for her coffee. “You’re being very mysterious about all this. What’s going on?”
Reaching for her hand, he kissed the back of it. “I love you,” he said simply.
Hearing the words aloud made her feel suddenly dizzy, and she knew she felt exactly the same way about him.
“I love you, too,” she murmured.
“Then will you do something for me?”
“Anything.”
“After breakfast, will you sit outside for me?”
“Why?”
“I want to draw you,” he answered.
Startled, Hope nodded her assent.
After breakfast, she led the way outside, and Tru motioned to the chair. She took a seat, feeling strangely self-conscious, both hands cradling her cup of coffee.
“Should I put this down?” she asked, nodding at her cup.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“How do you want me to pose?”
He opened the sketchbook. “Just be yourself and pretend I’m not here.”
It wasn’t easy. No one had ever drawn her likeness before. She crossed one leg over the other, then tried again with the other leg. But what to do with the coffee? Again she debated setting the cup aside, but she took a sip instead. She leaned forward, then tried leaning back. She turned toward the house where Tru was staying, then toward the ocean, then back to Tru. Nothing felt right, but she noticed that he was staring at her with quiet concentration.
“How am I supposed to pretend you’re not here with you looking at me like that?”
“I don’t know,” he said with a laugh. “I’ve never been on the other side.”
“Some help you are,” she teased, and tucked a leg beneath her, trying to get comfortable. Better, she thought. Thankfully, Scottie had followed them out and she decided to focus on him as he lay curled beneath the kitchen window.
By then, Tru had descended into silence, and she watched him pick up the pencil. His eyes flickered from her to the sketch and back again, and she noted the confident movement of his hand as he drew and smudged with practiced ease. Occasionally he would squint or furrow his brow, and she knew he wasn’t even aware of it. Somehow, that flash of nakedness beneath his assured demeanor made her want him even more.
When the clouds began to darken again, they both knew it was time to stop.
“Would you like to see it? It’s not finished, but there’s enough to show the general idea.”
“Maybe after I shower,” she demurred, rising from her seat. Tru collected the pad and the pencils, and halting just inside the doorway, he kissed her tenderly. He pulled her close and she leaned into him, inhaling his scent, wondering again at the mysterious forces that had brought them together.
TOGETHER
After her shower, Hope sat beside Tru on the couch as he showed her his drawing of her, as well as others in his sketchbook. She took her time admiring them. Later, when the rain tapered off, they ventured out for lunch at a café on Ocean Isle Beach, while the storm rose to a fury beyond the windows.
When she finally had to start getting ready for the rehearsal dinner, Tru sat on the edge of the bed, his gaze steady in her direction. There was something about watching a woman put on makeup that he’d always found sexy, and he sensed that she enjoyed having him as an audience.
At the door, when it was time for her to leave, they kissed for a long time. He held her close, imprinting her body upon his, and stood on the front porch, waving as she pulled away. She’d asked him to take Scottie out later, and said he was welcome to stay at the cottage if he wished.
He made a quick trip next door to pick up a steak and some side items, and prepared the meal in Hope’s kitchen. As he ate, he tried to imagine Hope among her friends, wondering whether they would be able to see in her face all that had happened in the last few days.
He spent some time adding further detail to the drawing of her that he’d started earlier, stopping only when he was finally satisfied. Still not ready to put the pencils aside, however, he started another drawing of the two of them standing on the beach, facing each other in profile. She didn’t need to be there for that; it was enough to imagine the scene, and the work went quickly. By the time he stopped for the night, hours had passed, and he felt Hope’s absence like an ache.
She made it back to the cottage by midnight. They made love, but she was still exhausted from the night before, and soon after, he heard her breathing change as she fell asleep in his arms. For him, sleep was elusive. Their time together here would be ending soon, yet he knew she was the woman with whom he wanted to spend the rest of his life.
