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Cate had witnessed a lot of fireworks displays in her life. But she would always remember this one. She wanted Harry every bit as much as he wanted her. Drawing out the pleasure was her aim.
She wouldn’t change her mind this time.
Sometimes rain or low-hanging clouds might dampen celebrations on the Fourth. Not tonight. The sky was clear and cloudless. Whoever was putting on the display hadn’t skimped on the pyrotechnics.
The colorful explosions lit up the sky, each one brighter and more extravagant than the last. Though Cate and Harry were some distance away, even the muted booms reached them. When she sneaked a surreptitious glance at her companion, she caught him smiling. Not at her. But at the sky, as if he was enjoying the display.
Maybe this would make up for a few of the disappointing birthdays he had experienced over the years. With her thumb, she monitored the pulse in his wrist, feeling his life force. Strong. Dominant.
Harry was unique. Fascinating. She hated that his parents hadn’t nurtured his ambitions and his talents. Everything he had accomplished in life he had done on his own.
Maybe that was all he knew. Being alone.
She snuggled into his side, her hand landing on his thigh.
She felt his chest move when he chuckled. “Oh, no,” he said. “Not yet. We’re watching till the bitter end. Never let it be said that I kept a woman from her fireworks.”
“They’re almost over,” Cate said, sliding her hand under his shirt and unfastening the one button at his waist. His flat abdomen fascinated her. Firm as a rock, but warm and smooth.
“Cate...”
She teased his navel. “I’ve seen enough.”
At that very moment, the grand finale popped and boomed and sizzled in the sky. All the reds and blues and golds and greens cartwheeled together in unrestrained excess.
Cate raised up on one elbow, seeing the rainbow of color reflected on Harry’s face. When she kissed him, a shudder ran through his body. Strong arms wrapped around her pulling her tight against his chest.
“About damn time,” he groaned.
After the first five seconds, there was no question who was in charge of the kiss. His lips and teeth and tongue ravaged her mouth. Cate had the oddest feeling she had been tossed up amidst the colors in the sky.
Little pops of sensation fizzed in her veins.
“More,” she begged.
He yanked at her top, managing to get it off over her head. Her bare breasts felt cool against the hot, muggy night air. Harry buried his face between them, nibbling the slopes, licking the tips.
Once, he even paused to play with the flower he had given her. Cate squirmed, wanting his hands elsewhere.
“I like it,” he said. “Looks even better when you’re naked like this.”
She grabbed handfuls of his shirt. “Take this thing off. Please.”
He sat up to unbutton the soft cotton garment and shrug out of it. When he tossed it aside, Cate wrapped her arms around him, stroking his back, biting his neck, driving them both crazy.
Only seventy-two hours had passed since they first explored each other’s bodies. It might as well have been a lifetime. Yet the feel of Harry’s skin and the contours of his broad shoulders felt familiar beneath her fingertips.
He unfastened his shorts and released his erection. Then he pulled her across his lap. “I love skirts,” he groaned. He nudged her panties aside and joined their bodies with a sharp upward thrust. His sex filled her.
Cate moaned, the sound echoing on the night breeze. “Harry,” she breathed. Her words were lost. All she could do was rest her forehead on his shoulder.
He palmed her butt. “I love your ass,” he said. “Talk about a ripe peach...”
Even amidst sexual insanity, he made her laugh. “Why did you stop?” she asked, her tone unwittingly petulant.
“I’m savoring the moment.” The gasped explanation didn’t satisfy either of them.
They shuddered there on a canvas tarp, sitting skin to skin, chest to chest, clasped together as if the very forces of nature might pull them apart.
