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He and Annie had never talked about making love before. They’d just done it. Truth be known, they’d had a hard time not doing it. Anytime they were alone together. Sometimes it had seemed as if all it took was a look, a touch of their hands, and they’d be at it again.
“I didn’t think about it.” Her answer didn’t make any of this any easier. “Not this part.”
He’d liked to know what part she had thought about.
She waited, as if she was hoping he might figure it all out.
“I’d like to get undressed. If that’s okay with you.”
She nodded again. No more smoothly now than the time before. And her discomfort nearly broke his heart. He’d never, in all of his worst nightmares, imagined being alone with Annie and having her feel awkward. Unsure.
Of herself. Or him.
Even their first time—her first time ever—she’d been more eager and curious than apprehensive. He’d been the one trying to take things slowly. For her sake. Wanting to get her body ready, to introduce her to his in gentle increments, to ease the initial pain as much as possible.
All these years later, he could remember every detail of that time.
There was no chair for his shirt. Blake used the door handle instead. Slid out of his shoes. And then his socks. His T-shirt followed. And he stood there again.
“Annie, I want to make this whatever you want it to be.”
“Okay.” Her response, her body, gave no indication what that might be. And Blake finally realized that she probably hadn’t worked out any more of it than he had. Which changed things somehow.
“I don’t know how to just have sex with you.” Her indecision prompted his honesty. “I only know how to make love with you.”
“Okay.”
That stopped him. “Okay?” He held her gaze.
“Yes.”
“You’re sure?” She knew what he was asking.
They’d promised that they’d never, ever let their relationship get to the point where it was only sex between them. Never touch each other intimately if they couldn’t do it lovingly.
“I’m sure.”
Those two words were all the invitation Blake needed. He reached her in two strides, but he didn’t immediately touch her. He couldn’t yet. He’d been without her for far too long.
His heart ached with desire. And the knowledge that this wasn’t real or lasting. A temporary pass to heaven.
For a moment, he wasn’t sure he could continue, for fear of what would happen to him when they’d finished and he had to leave. Annie wanted him to touch her. He could feel her leaning toward him.
He just looked at her instead. At everything. The half-slumberous, half-uneasy expression in her eyes.
“They’re as blue as I remembered them.”
She smiled. But her lips trembled.
Taking in everything, her cheeks, her chin, he stopped at her throat. It was smooth and white and silky looking. Tenderness swelled and an unexpectedly sweet anticipation almost overcame him as he considered kissing her there again after all this time. And knew that he was going to be doing so. Very soon.
He trembled, faltered for an instant, as the full realization settled on him. This was happening.
After six long years, he was here in Annie’s bedroom. About to touch her. To hold her again.
God couldn’t have granted him a more precious moment.
Her breasts stood out against the silky gown, her nipples already hard. So, she wasn’t as uninvolved as she’d looked. The knowledge calmed him. Gave him a confidence he hadn’t known he’d lacked until that moment.
