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He wrinkled his brow. “I never used to.”
“Meaning?”
“I never used to believe in any kind of fate…until I saw you.”
I smiled. Was it possible? Did he feel it too?
“Is that what you mean?” he asked.
I nodded slightly, embarrassed. “Yes. Something about you. It’s like I was meant to meet you. I know that sounds stupid.”
“Actually, it doesn’t sound stupid at all.” He chuckled. “Not to me. I think we were meant to meet as well.”
“Do you? Do you really?”
“Don’t be so surprised. You may be inexperienced, and that’s okay, but I know you feel the connection between us.”
I nodded again. Why was this so difficult to put into words? Words didn’t seem to exist for what I was feeling. Fate? Providence? Destiny? All of those plus something else. Love?
Yes, I loved him. I had no experience, nothing to compare this feeling to, but it was love. I had no doubt.
Someday, I would have this man’s child.
A beautiful dark-haired and dark-eyed child. Brad would be my universe and the child would be my sun. No more darkness. Only light.
I couldn’t help a little laugh. I sounded mushy. I certainly wouldn’t tell Brad what I’d been imagining. He’d think I was a sappy eighteen-year-old having my first crush and daydreaming about marriage and kids.
He was right, though. We had a connection made of something I couldn’t explain. All I knew was that everything about being with Brad Steel felt right. Felt safe.
I hadn’t felt truly safe in a long time. I wasn’t sure why. Nothing horrible had happened to me, and I’d always had a home and parents who, if they weren’t perfect, loved me very much.
So why had I never felt the safety and comfort I was feeling with Brad?
Did it even matter? Why not revel in this wonderful feeling that he seemed to share? Why not enjoy it?
“Yes,” I said. “I feel the connection. I felt it right away.”
“So did I.”
“Then what now?”
“That’s up to you,” he said.
“What do you want?”
He chuckled. “Something you’re not ready to give me.”
Face your fears, Daphne. “What if I am ready?”
“Baby, you’re not. I see it in your eyes. It’s like I said. Your body might be ready, but you aren’t. Not yet.”
“I want to give this to you, Brad,” I said.
“Believe me, I want to take it. But not yet.”
“Please,” I begged, the juncture at my thighs almost painful in its heat. “I need you.”
“I need you too.”
“Show me.”
“Show you what?”
“How much you need me.”
Fire shot into his dark eyes. “Are you sure?”
I inhaled, gathering all my courage. “I’m sure, Brad. I want it to be you.”
He cupped my cheek, thumbing my lower lip. “Come on.” Then he led me back into his bedroom. The door locked with a click.
What if Sean came home? What if Patty was with him? What if…? What if…? What if…?
I’d made my decision, and I wasn’t backing out now.
Brad deftly removed his jacket and then his shirt. I drew in a breath at his chest. Male perfection in all its glory. His shoulders were bronze and broad, his abs a perfect six-pack. And his chest—the perfect amount of black hair scattered over it, framing his copper nipples.
I dropped my gaze. Yeah, the bulge. The bulge he’d eventually uncover tonight. The first time I’d see, in real life, a man’s penis.
I swallowed back the sliver of fear for what it was. Not fear so much as apprehension.
He took my hand, kissed the fingertips, and then placed it on his chest. His flesh was warm and hard. Tingles shot through me at this tiny bit of contact. Tingles that bubbled through me like hot lava and landed between my legs.
That feeling… That feeling of wanting another person, of being truly ready…
It intoxicated me.
I’d been intoxicated two nights ago, and before I’d gotten sick, the feeling had been euphoric. But it was nothing compared to what I felt now. Euphoric, yes, but also an ache so pure and raw it was almost beautiful in its pain.
“God, Daphne. Your hand on me. I can’t…”
“What?” I whispered.
“Just touch me. Touch me everywhere.”
I added my other hand and slid them up and over his broad shoulders. His flesh was hot against my fingertips. Burning hot, just like that place deep in my core. I was burning for him. For his hands on my body, his tongue against every part of me.
I slid my hands up his neck and cupped his cheeks, scraping my fingers against his black stubble. I traced his full, firm lips, lips that had touched my own.
Lips that would touch me everywhere else.
God, I was on fire!
“Should I take off my dress? Or something?” I asked.
“Do whatever you feel like doing,” he said. “This is your call. Your speed.”
“That doesn’t seem fair.”
“Daphne, I’m not sure you understand everything you do to me.”
