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He held her tightly as he headed for her bedroom. Once inside, he kicked the door shut behind him and felt her shiver. It wasn’t the cold. A soft light from the street lamps seeped through the lightweight curtains. You could see everything in the room.
“It’s too light,” Kirsty whispered.
Lake grabbed a throw from the back of the armchair and tucked it around the curtain rail, giving an extra layer against the light.
“Better?”
“Better.”
He could hear the tremble in her voice. Now all he could make out were general shapes in the darkness. He negotiated his way back to Kirsty and pulled her back into his arms. She hid there gratefully.
“I don’t know what to do,” she said. There was a pause. “Well, I know what to do. Just not what to do next. You know. To get from here to there.”
She cocked her head in the direction of the bed. Lake grinned against her hair.
“I do,” he told her as his lips found hers.
His kiss was slow and deliberate. He didn’t want to miss a moment of their time together. And he didn’t want Kirsty’s fears to get in the way of it either. He knew the second she stopped worrying about what they were doing and started to feel it instead. Her body curved into his, her breathing said passion instead of panic and her fingers sought out the shoulder muscles she loved so much.
Slowly, Lake backed them towards the bed, making sure that the kissing didn’t stop. He felt his way over her hip to the bottom of the black ribbed sweater that made him drool. Slipping his hand under it, he ran his fingers over the smooth skin in the small of her back. Kirsty pressed in towards him. His hand splayed to cover her back, his fingertips brushing scar tissue over her kidney. She stiffened.
“I...I can’t,” she said as she pulled away from his mouth.
He held her tight.
“You can. Scars don’t mean anything to me. You’re beautiful, Kirsty. The kind of beautiful that lures ships to destruction. Nothing will change that. Not for me.”
Even in the darkness he could see her eyes widen with insecurity. She wanted to believe him. She just didn’t know how to take the next step.
“We’re going about this all wrong,” he told her. “You know when you have a Band-Aid on and you tease at the corner to get it off? You feel every tiny hair pull and think you’ll die from the pain.”
“Big baby,” she said, and he could hear the smile in her voice.
“We need to rip this sucker off,” he told her.
He heard her sharp intake of breath.
“Rip what off exactly?”
“It’s time to get naked, Kirsty Campbell,” he said with a grin of his own.
“I don’t think I can.”
“It’s easy. I’ve been doing it all my life. Let me show you.”
Before she could object, he reached for the bottom of her jumper and yanked it up over her head.
She gasped as her arms dropped from around him and flew to cover herself.
“I can’t see you, remember?” He stripped off his own top. “Kick off your shoes,” he said.
“I can’t, I need to think, I—”
Lake reached for her and kissed the words out of her mouth. She could do it. He knew she could. When he felt her skin against him, he desperately needed for her to know it too. She relaxed again, her hands straying to his arms and clinging to his biceps.
“Shoes,” he said against her mouth.
She nodded and he gave her another little kiss of encouragement. They kicked off their shoes and tugged off their socks. Lake flattened her against his chest while his hand sought out the zipper on her skirt. She didn’t stop him—instead her hand spread over his heart. She would feel it race under her fingertips and know how much he wanted her. He slid the zip down and pushed the skirt over her hips. She ducked her head against him, but wiggled her hips to let it fall. At last, Lake had Kirsty nearly naked in his arms.
