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"That would have been a good question before my clothes came off. " Smiling, she angled up and began unbuttoning his shirt.
He made a sound that was part desperation, part surrender, and let her undress him. Then he took her in his arms again.
His kisses were different now, harsher, deeper, more erotic. She felt her body responding in a way it never had before; it was as if she became nothing and everything, just a ragged collection of nerve endings. His touch was her torture, her salvation.
Sensations became everything, all that she was, all that she cared about; pain, pleasure, frustration. Even her breathing wasnt her own. She was gasping, choking, crying out for him to stop, and not to stop, and to make it go on and make it go away.
She felt her body arching up, as if the whole of her were reaching for something, needing it with a desperation that made her ache, but she didnt even know what it was.
And then he was inside her, hurting her. She gasped at the suddenness of the pain but made no sound. Instead, she clung to him, kissing him and moving with him until the pain dissolved and there was none of her left; there was only this, the feelings of them where they came together, the sharp, aching need for something more . . .
I love you, she thought, holding him, rising to meet him. The withheld words filled her head, became a soundtrack to the rhythm of their bodies.
"Katie," he cried out, thrusting deep inside her.
Her body exploded, like some star in space, breaking apart, floating away. Time stopped for a moment, then settled slowly back in place.
"Wow," she said, flopping back onto the warm carpet. For the first time in her life, she got what all the hype was about.
He stretched out beside her, his sweat-dampened body tucked in close to hers. Keeping one arm around her, he stared up at the ceiling. Like hers, his breathing was ragged.
"You were a virgin," he said, sounding frighteningly far away.
"Yes," was all she could say.
She rolled onto her side, slid her naked leg over him. "Is it always like that?"
When he turned to her, she saw something in his blue eyes that confused her: fear.
"No, Katie," he said after a long time. "Its not. "
Kate woke in Johnnys arms. They both lay on their backs, with the sheets puddled around their hips. She stared up at the planked ceiling, feeling the heavy, unfamiliar weight of his hand between her naked breasts.
Dawns pale glow slanted through the open window, collecting in a buttery smear on the hardwood floor. The endless slapping of waves against the pilings echoed the slow and steady beat of her heart.
She didnt know what she was supposed to do now, how she was supposed to act. From their first kiss, this had been a magical and unexpected gift. Theyd made love three times during the night, the last time only a few hours ago. Theyd kissed, theyd made omelettes and eaten in front of the fire, theyd talked about their families and their job and their dreams. Johnny had even told a series of extremely stupid jokes.
What they hadnt talked about was tomorrow, and it was here now, as much a presence between them as the soft sheets and the sound of their breathing.
She was glad shed waited to make love, even though waiting for the right guy was unfashionable these days. Everything about last night had rocked her world, just as the poets predicted.
But what if Johnny didnt think she was the right girl? He hadnt said he loved her—of course he hadnt—and without those words, how was a woman to put passion in context?
Was she supposed to get dressed and sneak out and pretend it never happened? Or should she go downstairs and make breakfast and pray to God that last night was a beginning and not an ending?
When she felt him stir beside her, she tensed up.
"Morning," he said in a gravelly voice.
She didnt know how to play coy or act indifferent. Shed loved him too long to pretend otherwise. What mattered now was that they didnt just get up and go their separate ways. "Tell me something I dont know about you. "
He stroked her upper arm. "Hmmm. I used to be an altar boy. "
It was surprisingly easy to picture him like that, a young, skinny boy, with his hair slicked back from his face with water, walking carefully up the aisle. The image made her giggle. "My mother would love you. "
"Now tell me something about you. "
"Im a science fiction geekess. Star Wars, Star Trek, Dune. I love them all. "
