He pulled her closer, his arm tight over her waist, his hand curling into her rib cage. Holding her breath, she listened to his breathing. It was even, and she assumed he was still asleep, that his reaching for her had been completely unconscious.
A week ago, she would have been up and out of his bed in seconds, throwing on her clothes and getting in his rowboat, speeding across the lake as fast as her arms could take her to make sure she put distance between them. But last night, he'd been there for her in a way no one ever had. He'd been there for her mother too, taking care of both of them in the ambulance and in the hospital.
Somewhere between then and now--between that moment when he'd come rushing into the store with the paramedic crew and the one where he'd pointed out cloud formations on his dock, between the moment she'd trusted him to strip her clothes off to put her into his bed and then slept all night curled up in the safety of his arms--she'd realized a new truth. No matter what happened out in the real world, whether condos were built or not, whether they lived in cities or small towns, she could always count on him.
They had always been in it together as best friends and playmates, practically from birth. He'd been the boy in sixth grade who had taken her to the office for ice when they'd been playing kickball and the ball had nailed her in the nose. He'd been the teenager who had asked her to dance in eighth grade at their first real after-school party when she'd been standing all alone in the corner. He'd been the one to pull her out of the way of the propeller when she had fallen out of the speedboat in tenth grade, letting her cling to him long past when she'd stopped shaking. And he'd been her first lover at seventeen, the night she'd pulled him into the backseat of his beat-up old car, and they'd lost their virginity together.
As the magnitude of her realizations brought her more and more awake, she realized Calvin's breathing was no longer even and there was a slight tension in the arm slung across her.
Last night had been pure comfort, without even a hint of sexuality between them. But this morning, with his muscles hot and hard against her skin, she had another epiphany.
She wanted him. Just as she always had.
Just as she always would.
And even though the voice of common sense screamed inside her head, trying to get her to listen, to stop before things went any further, something much stronger than common sense had her silencing that voice and moving her hand over Calvin's to thread her fingers between his.
Slowly she brought his hand up over her stomach, her rib cage, losing her breath as she took him between the valley of her breasts, not stopping until she held his fingers against her mouth. She pressed a kiss against his fingers, the small hairs on his knuckles brushing against her lips as she followed up with another kiss and then another.
Against her hips, she felt the growing proof of his arousal. It was pure instinct to shift herself into him. His low groan came from behind her, and the sound, combined with the incredibly sensual pleasures of finally being so close with him again, had her skin prickling with awareness.
And unabashed need.
It was the most natural thing in the world to turn around, to put her arms around his neck and press her mouth against his. Not breaking their kiss, a heartbeat later, his heavy weight was completely over her, pressing her down into the bed. His tongue found hers, and as a soft moan of pleasure found its way from her chest to her throat and out her mouth, her legs moved apart for him so that he could press deeper against her.
She'd never had another lover like Calvin, never wanted to run her hands and mouth everywhere at once. But she already knew he wouldn't let her lips go, not when he was holding her a willing prisoner with his, so she used her hands instead. She wanted to go fast, but she made herself move slowly, running her hands down from his neck, across his broad shoulders, then down his back.
Her hunger was even stronger for the memories of how good it had been between them so long ago. Stronger for the sure knowledge that it was going to be even better--so much better--after denying herself for so long.
She didn't want anything between them, not even the thin cotton of his T-shirt or hers, so when she found the hem of his shirt, she gripped it in her fists and pulled it up, letting the edge of her fingers, her nails, rake lightly across his skin. His muscles rippled beneath her hands, and she felt him suck a breath in deep as he lifted himself high enough that she could take the shirt all the way up and off.
There was enough light in the room now for her to see him, to stare at his incredible beauty.
He was perfect, his muscles rippling, his skin tanned and so beautifully kissable. And when she looked up at his face again in absolute wonder at finally being here with him, she saw the same wonder in his eyes. Wonder tangled up with heat.
"Now you," he said, but she couldn't wrap her brain around his words, not until she felt his fingers skimming her belly as he slowly lifted her shirt up across her sensitive skin. His fingers caught against the curve of her lace-covered breasts, making her shake with need.
He took his time looking at her, his dark, hot eyes burning a sizzling path across her skin that had her trembling. He'd seen her without her clothes before, but ten years had passed between then and now. She wasn't a girl anymore. And he definitely wasn't a boy.
And then he was lowering his head and she felt the soft press of his mouth on the upper swell of her breasts, first one and then the other. They were just kisses at first, until his tongue began to lave her skin, dipping into one cup of her bra.
Sarah's memories of making love with Calvin had been so sweet, so good. But the truth was it had never been like this between them. They'd been teenagers before, barely scratching the surface of adulthood. They'd had no real-life experience. No understanding of just how much intimacy like this meant. How deep a mark it would make on them forever. Not just on their bodies, but way down into the center of their hearts.
She arched into him, desperate for more, and he groaned at her obvious pleasure before moving his mouth to her other breast. She was turning to liquid pleasure, melting as his mouth came down over the other sensitive peak--and she couldn't remember a single reason why she'd ever denied herself this man.
"Beautiful," he said as he pulled back to look at her, and she cried out not only from the delicious physical sensations, but also from the look in his eyes, the emotion that he wasn't trying to hide from her anymore.
And the fact that being together like this felt so right.
Her bra was gone a moment later, his large hands cupping her flesh so that he could run kisses over both breasts at once. Her head fell back against the pillows as she tried to take it all in, pleasure so deep she thought she'd burst. Just when she thought she had found a way to deal with it, he was moving away from her breasts, his mouth kissing a path down her rib cage. Anticipation rode her, drove her arousal even higher, as his fingers slipped into the sides of her underwear and he slowly slid it off.
"You are so beautiful," he said against her stomach between kisses, and then his fingers were moving over her, across the slick, hot skin between her thighs. "More beautiful than ever."
She lifted her hips into the press of his hand, groaning as he cupped her, begging silently for more. He must have heard her silent plea, because the next thing she knew, his mouth was there, between her legs. She cried out as she peaked and fell beneath his lips and tongue.
It was too much, so much more than she'd ever felt with anyone else. She couldn't remember anything or anyone that had come before Calvin, couldn't possibly think about what would come after.
Her climax took her over, took over everything that had come before, took over everything that might come next, made her forget everything she needed to forget...and remember everything she'd been so scared to remember. The wet slick of his tongue over her, into her. The strength of his hands as he gripped her hips, as he held her right where he needed her, right where she needed him. The heat they created, so much that she swore she was going to ignite right then a
nd there, that she'd be nothing but smoke and ashes soon, and that she wouldn't have it any other way. Wouldn't want anything more than this, couldn't ever want anything but Calvin, the way they were right here, right now, with nothing forbidden anymore, and no more secrets from each other when they were in each other's arms.
It took several long, floating moments before she resurfaced from the shocking pleasure. She'd never felt so soft, so womanly, so good, as he moved his mouth down over her thighs, kicking the covers off so that he could press kisses against her knees, her shins, her ankles, the tops of her feet.
Only with Calvin had she ever felt this much love.
And now, she thought as he lay back on the bed and pulled her over him, it was her turn to show him with her body, with her mouth, with her hands, all the things she didn't know if she could ever say out loud.
*
Straddling his hips, looking down at him with deep satisfaction, Sarah was soft and naked and so beautiful that Calvin could hardly breathe, could hardly believe she was finally here with him in his bed.
He hadn't been a saint in the past ten years, but being with Sarah again made it painfully clear that she wasn't only his first.
She was the only one who mattered.
All week, ever since he'd seen her outside the yarn store, he'd been warning himself about keeping his distance, and this was why. He wouldn't have had to warn himself to stay away if she hadn't been so important.
But while he couldn't escape from the fact that they were going to have to stop and figure all this out soon--too soon--he refused to turn away from her now. Not while Sarah, his Sarah, was soft and sweet and giving herself to him so openly. Not when he never wanted to stop loving her. Not when he could listen to the sound of her coming apart beneath his mouth, his hands, over and over for a hundred years and never tire of hearing it.
Her hands were splayed flat across his chest. "I don't know where to start," she said, almost as if she were talking to herself.
"Anywhere, sweetheart."
And then she was leaning down over him, her silky hair blanketing his chest, his shoulders, as her mouth ran a path across his skin from his arms down to his hands, loving each finger separately before she moved back up to his shoulder, to his neck.
He couldn't keep from stealing a kiss, from capturing her lips and tangling his tongue with hers. She tasted so good. Absolutely everywhere.
She continued her sensual assault down his chest, over his abs. He tightened his stomach muscles, fighting for control. Finally, she removed the last barrier between them, his boxers joining the rest of their clothes on the floor, and her mouth brushing a kiss over his erection was nearly enough for him to lose it. Right then and there, from her whisper of a kiss.
It killed him to have to shift away from her for even a second to get a condom out of his bedside table. And all the while she was pressing kisses against his face, his neck, his shoulders and chest. With a groan, he ripped open the package and shoved the condom on.
And then, she was wrapping her legs around his waist and guiding him into her--and sweet Lord, it was so sweet, so perfect. Everything he hadn't wanted to let himself dream about, but couldn't have ever forgotten no matter how hard he tried, hearing her gasp with pleasure until he was finally right where he belonged.
Finally with Sarah again. Finally holding her in his arms. Finally feeling the pure joy that no one else had ever made him feel. Finally able to give in to the deep emotions that had never gone away, that had only grown stronger with every minute, every day, every year he'd missed her. With every second he'd wished she'd come back. That he'd prayed for every secret dream he had to come true.
"I love you."
Before either of them could really react to the words he hadn't planned on saying but couldn't keep inside, nature was taking over, their tongues slipping and sliding against each other as their hips did a similar dance.
He had dreamed of this moment a hundred times. A thousand. But being with her, as adults, was so much better than it had ever been when they were kids.
All he knew, all that mattered, was that she was finally his again.
They knew each other's bodies so well, and yet there was so much innocence, everything was so fresh, so new. So many times he'd woken up in the middle of the night, dreaming he was running his hands over her smooth skin, over her gorgeous curves, tracing the lines, the swells of her body, trying to go slow so that he could savor her, trying to memorize every inch of her before he woke, before he lost hold of her again.
And now that she was real, now that she wasn't just a dream, now that she was warm and soft and moving beneath him, against him--now that she was begging him to take, to give, begging him for more more more--he could hardly believe he'd ever done anything good enough to deserve this. To deserve one more chance with her. To deserve this chance to get it right this time. To let breathless and reckless and fearless take over. To give her everything.
Everything.
His mouth, his hands, his body moving over hers, inside of her, with her arms and legs around him as they tangled his sheets, as their skin grew slick with sweat, he gave everything he had to loving her. To showing her that he'd never stopped loving her. That he never would.
And then she was saying, "PleaseCalvinIneedyousomuch," in a rush of need, of inescapable desire, and he was lost, his body joining hers in an explosion of pleasure.
His climax shot through every vein, through every cell, through every part of his heart. And he knew it was the same for her, could feel the power of her release as she held him like she never wanted to let him go.
They were both still panting when he rolled back onto the mattress, taking her sweat-slickened body against his. Her lids were heavy, and he could tell by her breathing and relaxed muscles that she was already asleep by the time her head found his shoulder.
The sun was almost up completely, and it was time to get his sister ready for school. First, though, he'd steal another sixty seconds with Sarah.
And silently pray for another sixty years.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
I love you.
They were the first words Sarah heard inside her head when she woke, in Calvin's bed. Three words she'd never thought he'd ever say again...but that she'd still secretly longed for. Every single second of the past ten years, if she were finally being completely honest with herself.
He'd shocked her with his profession, even if she hadn't been shocked by their explosive lovemaking. How could she be, when making love with him, when being that close again, had been inevitable?
And yet what had made being with him so amazing, the real reason his every kiss and touch took her breath away, was because of their connection. Even ten years apart couldn't break the strong emotional current that had always run between them.
Unfortunately, recognizing the steady strength of their bond didn't help anything else make sense--it didn't mean that things between them could work beyond one beautiful sunrise.
Being with Calvin would mean being a steady, stable part of his sister's life.
Being with Calvin would mean being a part of Summer Lake permanently.
Being with Calvin meant letting go of the brass ring and giving up all of her dreams for something bigger, dreams that her father had helped to nurture.
And all of those things terrified her.
Fully awake now, she needed to call over to the hospital to check on her grandmother and mother. Unable to find a phone in his bedroom--so different from the way she normally slept, with her cell phone on the mattress beside her--she found a robe on the back of his door and put it on.
She hadn't felt shy when they were making love, but as she stepped out into the kitchen wearing his robe, she did. "Good morning."
He looked up with a smile from the stove where he was turning over pancakes. Jordan sat at the breakfast bar reading a book and said, "Hi, Sarah."
It was a little bit of a shock to be greeted so casually by the young girl. Was Jo
rdan used to having women spend the night with her brother? Jealousy rode Sarah like an out-of-control Mustang hell-bent on escaping its pen, even though she knew he would never parade women in front of his sister. The sister he had given up everything to take care of.
"Your grandmother is doing great." His voice was warm, and his eyes were even warmer as he took in his robe over her naked skin. "I spoke to your mom a little while ago, and she said Olive was awake and asking for her knitting needles."
Relief flooded her as she leaned against the island. "I wish I could head straight back to the hospital to see her, but I promised to run the store today."
"I'd like to come with you tonight to see her, if you don't mind."
Sarah wanted to throw herself on him, plant kisses all over his face. But he'd already given her so much. Too much. More than she had any right to expect.
And she was scared. So damn scared.
"Can I come too?" Jordan shoved another huge bite of pancake into her mouth before adding, "I really like Olive. She comes into our class sometimes to read us books."
"Of course you can come. Both of you." Still feeling horribly awkward in their cozy family kitchen, as though she were the only piece that didn't fit in an already finished puzzle, she started backing out of the room. "If you don't mind, Calvin, I'm just going to take a quick shower, and then I'll be out of your hair."
But he was already sliding a plate of steaming pancakes on the counter. "Sit first. You need to eat."
She would have denied it in her effort to get the heck out of there, but her stomach confirmed the truth of its emptiness with a loud growl before she could, leaving her no choice but to sit on a stool and pour syrup over the pancakes.
"I'm really sorry about your grandmother not feeling good," Jordan said as she forked up another bite. "Calvin told me she was coughing a lot. I had pneumonia once when I was a little kid, and it was really awful."
"Oh, that's nice of you," Sarah said stiffly, feeling as far out of her element as she could be in the too-big robe with bed-head, eating pancakes in Calvin's kitchen with the sister he'd raised alone from a baby. Raised entirely without her help, even though he'd asked.