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"Oh, Duncan," I moaned.
When he lifted his head this time and looked
into my eyes, I couldn't help but lean toward him and
draw his lips to mine. In a way we were both throwing
each other a lifeline, pulling each other out of the
darkness.
We kissed a soft, but long, kiss. I could feel
him trembling, and it wasn't because I had excited him. He was trembling with fear. It both annoyed and
angered me, and I was sure he saw that in my eyes. "You're not going to go to hell because of how
you feel about me, Duncan. I don't care what your
mother or anyone has told you or how you have been
made to interpret what you read in the Bible." He looked a little ashamed that he was so easily
read. I touched his cheek and smiled.
"Who knows? Maybe you'll find a little heaven
with me," I said, and he smiled.
"You are good," he said with confidence. "I
know you're good for me." "We're good for each
other."
"Yes, yes. You're right."
He kissed me again and I kept my hands around
his shoulders, pulling him toward me until he was on
the bed with me.
"Don't be afraid," I whispered to drive back his
hesitation. "Not of me, not of yourself."
He looked down at me, and then, like a little
boy opening a Christmas Day package, he began to
undo my towel.
15 Two of a Kind
. At first it seemed that all he would do is gaze upon me, feast with his eyes and then wrap me up again and run out. I anticipated it. I held my breath. Was it wrong for me to study his face while he looked at me? I was fascinated with how he reacted to me, to the power I seem to have over him. I could almost see the struggle inside him to look but not touch.
"I've never been like this with any other girl," he said in a hoarse whisper.
