by Susan Fox
Laughing was good. Tasting was good. Beaches and love-making were very, very good. Maybe tonight … No, Spanish Banks was too public. But the camper had curtains and a bed.
He forced the thought away and concentrated on the points he wanted to make when he presented his paper later in the morning.
At lunchtime, a couple of colleagues walked with Mark into the large hotel dining room that had been set up for the symposium attendees. They complimented him on his presentation and asked thought-provoking questions, but he answered with half a mind, searching the room for Adrienne. He’d seen her in passing a couple of times and now hoped for a few semi-private moments to talk to her.
Whatever he’d been doing this morning, even when he was behind the podium, Jenna had been in the back of his mind. Because of her, he’d broken his rather dry presentation with a few anecdotal stories about interactions between project staff and local Thai people, and had noted when faces in the audience lightened and lips curved.
He was the same guy as always, yet he wasn’t. In some fundamental way, his world had shifted and him along with it.
Adrienne hurried up from behind him and caught his arm. “Mark! Hey there, stranger.”
She hugged him, and he hugged her back, startled by the seven-month baby bulge that came between them.
“Come sit with me,” she ordered.
“Please excuse me,” he said to his colleagues and let her steer him to an unoccupied table on the far side of the room.
Once they’d sat down, he said, “You sure look different.”
“The baby or the hair?”
“Both.” She’d always worn her vivid red hair long, sometimes loose and sometimes tied back. Now it was short and spiky, calling attention to her expressive face. “The haircut suits you. Uh, the baby, too.”
Her jade eyes sparkled from behind her glasses. “With a baby coming, I’m simplifying. Short hair’s less work. But enough about me. How are things going with Jenna?”
“I think, uh, good. I mean, it’s hard to tell right now but, yeah, good.” He gulped some ice water. “I asked her to go to Indonesia.”
“Mark! Okay, Mister, who are you and what did you do with my best friend?” she teased. “After months of budgeting and applying for funding, after reviewing dozens of applications and picking the best-matched team, you act on total impulse and invite Jenna along? Oh yeah, you’re in love.”
“This isn’t just me wanting my, uh, girlfriend there. She’d be a real asset.”
“Even better. So, she’s not so different as you thought she was? When we talked on the phone—”
Adrienne broke off as a group of people took the chairs around them. Under her breath, she said, “Later. Maybe a drink after the dinner?”
“Can’t. I’m meeting her.”
“You can’t evade me forever.” She gave him a mock-scowl.
He grinned. “Not trying to. We’ll find some time.”
One of the newcomers asked him a question about his paper, and he refocused his attention. Soon, the whole group at the table was absorbed into a stimulating conversation.
Lunch was served: overcooked chicken in unidentifiable sauce. He smiled to himself, thinking of Jenna. Sometimes it was better not to taste your food.
Many hours later, Mark headed out to Spanish Banks, eager to see Jenna but nervous, too. So much depended on tonight’s conversation. A whole future, in fact. She’d sounded great on the phone this morning, but she’d had a day to consider.
Driving along by the beach parking lots, he noted absently that even this late in the evening a number of people were out and about: strolling, cycling, rollerblading, walking dogs.
When he pulled into the last lot, he glanced around, not knowing what kind of car she’d be driving and wondering if she was there. When she didn’t emerge from any of the parked ones, he reminded himself that a woman who didn’t believe in schedules wasn’t likely to be on time. Jenna wouldn’t stand him up.
A classy black Mercedes sedan sped into the lot and parked beside the camper and he saw Jenna in the driver’s seat.
He grinned widely, and she smiled back, and he knew everything was okay between them. Warmth flooded through him, centering in his heart.
She climbed out and he feasted on the sight of her: a flashing smile, her curly hair bright under the artificial lights in the parking lot, and those slim, tempting curves in a long-sleeved green tee over jeans. Eagerly, he caught her up in a hug and she squeezed back, lifting her face to his without a moment’s hesitation.
He kissed her and a strong, warm current flowed between them. Love. Surely nothing else could feel like this. Before it could catch them up and carry them away and they ripped off each other’s clothes in the parking lot, he regretfully eased his lips from hers.
She grinned up at him. “Coward.”
“You know it.” Hands resting happily on the upper curves of her butt, pelvis nudging hers as his cock—which didn’t discriminate between public and private places—grew, he tilted his head toward the Mercedes. “Whose car?”
“Mom’s. Lawyers have an image thing.” Eyes twinkling, she wrinkled her nose. “No one else is allowed to drive it, but Dad and Merilee needed their cars, and Mom is in Ottawa tonight, so I stole it.” Her arms circled him loosely. She dug her hands into the back pockets of his pants, and wriggled her hips suggestively against him. “Speaking of image, you clean up pretty well, Dr. Chambers. I wouldn’t have recognized you but for the Westfalia.”
Because he’d been presenting today, he’d worn tailored black pants, a long-sleeved blue cotton shirt, and a tie. He’d loosened the knot of the tie as he’d hurried to his car, but not taken the time to pull it off.
Jenna’s fingers tugged at the knot, then she pulled the tie off. Draping it around her own neck, she went to work on the top button of his shirt.
He caught her hands in his. “Hey, are you planning on stripping me in public?”
“What, no skinny dipping tonight?”
About to point out that there were too many people around, he realized she might well be teasing. “Is that a joke?”
Her mouth crinkled. “Hey, you’re catching on. Yeah, shocking people a little is fun. Getting arrested, not so much.”
“Then should I ask why you’re stripping me?”
“Maybe because you’re overdressed for the beach.” She ran the tip of her tongue around her lips suggestively. “Or maybe …”
He squeezed her captured hands, arousal mounting. “Oh yeah, I like that thought.” He nudged his erection against her. “We could pull the curtains.”
“Now you’re talking.”
He opened the camper door and they jumped inside. Hurriedly, they readied things—curtains drawn, bed down—then they tumbled eagerly onto the bed, hands tugging urgently at each other’s clothing.
Murmuring, laughing, they managed to strip each other naked, then he lay her back on the bed and rose above her. He hadn’t turned on the light because it would seep through the curtains and might make a patrolling cop curious. As a result, he could barely see Jenna, and that was a real pity.
Still, when he lowered his body atop hers, he felt the familiar smooth, soft curves and sank into her as if he were coming home. The thought struck him that if they traveled the world together, they’d always be home because they’d have each other.
Surely, Jenna agreed. His feelings were so powerful, this connection between them so right, she had to feel the same. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t be here now, like this, spreading for him, gripping his shaft eagerly.
“I missed you,” she murmured.
“Me, too.”
The tip of his cock met slick heat, firm yet yielding flesh, then he was sliding inside her. He eased in slowly, inch by inch, feeling her open to him and grip him like a plush velvet glove.
A very steamy one, pulsing erotically around him, gripping and releasing, urging him to match the rhythm.
Slowly, he began to pump, drawing out
each stroke so he slid almost all the way out, then back, in, deep, keeping the rhythm, deeper, as far as he could reach into her core.
She moaned, arched, threw her head back on the pillow. His lips took her exposed neck in gentle nibbles, concentrating on the spots he knew were especially arousing for her.
It was dark in here and he could barely see her, yet that made him even more attuned to each sensation.
He wouldn’t kiss her lips. Not yet. If he did, he’d be swept up, swept away, and right now he wanted to be aware of every silky bit of skin he teased to arousal. Aware of each shiver, each soft gasp she gave. Of the sweet, slightly musky scent that rose from her skin.
Aware of her hands stroking his back, digging into muscles, teasing the base of his spine, flirting with the crease between his butt cheeks.
She’d told him to live in the moment, to pay attention and appreciate, and that was exactly what he was doing.
“So good, Jenna,” he murmured against the pulse point at the base of her throat, feeling the quick throbbing vibration against his lips.
“On the weekend,” he said, “I had a theory.”
A giggle rippled through her. “A theory?”
“That you were scared of kissing me.”
“Maybe you should test that theory, Science Guy.”
“Maybe I should.” He knew she expected him to go for her mouth, but he fooled her by easing out of her and sliding down a little so he could kiss the upper curve of a breast.
“Mmm, that’s not so scary. You can do more of that. Try an inch or two lower.”
Obediently he headed for her nipple, teasing it with soft kisses then tugging it gently into his mouth until she writhed under him.
He did the same to her other nipple, then made his way slowly down her body, drifting kisses across her soft skin. Eventually he reached the tender skin of her inner thighs, damp with her arousal. When she spread her legs in invitation, he raised his head to tease, “Not scared yet?”
“Scared I may die of sexual frustration,” she said breathily.
She wasn’t the only one. His cock was so hard it ached.
“Can’t have that.” He swiped his tongue across her sex, back and forth in broad strokes as she pressed needily against him, body taut with aroused anticipation. When he sucked her clit into his mouth, she gasped, tensed, and when he flicked his tongue gently back and forth across it, she broke with a cry of pleasure.
When the tremors faded, he slid up the bed again, hungry for her mouth, desperate to be inside her again.
Her legs came up, hooking around his lower back, spreading her even wider, and he plunged eagerly into her. “God, Jenna, you’re incredible.”
As he tilted his head down toward hers, she whispered, “I love making love with you.”
Making love. Hearing her say the words sent a thrill through him, a thrill of arousal and emotion. “Me, too.”
“Kiss me,” she said. “Kiss me, Mark, and carry me away.”
“Oh, yeah.” He brushed his lips across her chin. “First, tell me, was I right? Were you avoiding kissing me?”
“I was afraid of what happened.”
“And now?” He poised his mouth just over hers, feeling the warm brush of her breath coming from between her parted lips.
“Maybe I still am.” Her hands came up to curve against the sides of his face. “But I can’t resist.”
“Me, either.”
She tugged him down that last inch. He touched his lips to hers and slipped his tongue into her mouth, finding hers waiting for him.
And then they flew on a magical journey of sensuality and emotion, and he knew he’d been right in trusting the instinct that had first attracted him to her. She was his mate, his partner, his love. She was as important to him as his first love, the ocean, and he had to make her part of his life.
It had taken him a lot of years to figure out what love was, and now he knew. There could be no other word for the emotion that filled his heart.
After, they held each other close until their breathing slowed. Should he ask her now about Indonesia? No, better to do it outside where the ocean could add its own subtle brand of persuasion.
“There’s a beach out there,” he said. “Want to walk and talk?”
“Sounds great. I’ve been running around doing errands all day.” She slipped off the bed and hunted for the clothes they’d flung aside earlier.
He’d brought jeans and put them on rather than his dress pants, then gathered up a light windbreaker. “It could get chilly. Do you want this?”
“You keep it. I have a sweatshirt in the car.”
A few minutes later, they were walking barefoot toward the beach. Her fingers twined through his, warm and firm. When they stepped onto the sand, large grains scrunched under his feet. “Every beach in the world had its own unique composition, its distinctive texture. Color, too, though tonight it’s too dark to really tell.”
“I believe you, Science Guy. And its own magic.”
“I believe you, Magic Girl.”
In one direction, the lights of downtown glowed like thousands of fireflies against the night sky. By unspoken agreement, they turned in the other darker and less civilized direction. He sucked in a deep lungful of fresh ocean air.
“How’s the symposium?” she asked, skirting a chunk of driftwood. “Did you knock ’em dead with your paper, Dr. Chambers?”
Was she interested, polite, or avoiding the subject of Indonesia? “It went over pretty well, yeah. I tried not to be too lecturish.”
“You’re kind of sexy when you lecture.”
“Seriously? No, you’re joking again.”
She chuckled. “Actually, this time I’m not.”
“Uh, okay. I guess that’s good. Anyhow, the symposium’s definitely worthwhile. There’s some great research being done, worthwhile projects going on all over the world.”
“And positive energy? All you folks getting together to save our friend?” She gestured toward the dark ocean beside them, breathing softly against the shore.
“Yeah. Lots of good energy.” He wouldn’t have put it that way before, but her description fit.
Knowing she’d been a little stressed about going home, he asked, “How about you? Is the family reunion going well?”
“Better than usual. I don’t know why, but my sisters and I are getting along better. God knows, maybe we’re actually growing up. Or maybe it’s because it’s the first time we’ve all worked together on something, and we want things to be wonderful for M&M.” She broke off to exchange quiet good evenings with an older couple strolling in the opposite direction.
“How’s it all coming with the wedding?”
“Great, and Tree wouldn’t have it any other way. This afternoon she took me with her to make a final decision between two caterers. Can you believe it, she actually went with my judgment?”
She didn’t wait for an answer. “Then I tried on my bridesmaid’s dress, and it fits perfectly and it’s really pretty. You know how horrendous they can sometimes be.”
“Uh …”
She snorted. “What am I saying? You don’t have a clue, do you? It’s a girl thing.”
“Okay.” One thing he did know was that he wished he could see her in the dress. He wished he could be her date for the wedding. Not that he was a fan of weddings, but he knew there was something symbolic about being with a woman when someone close to her was tying the knot.
Of course, he couldn’t be there, though. By Saturday, he’d be in Denpasar, Bali. Enough chitchat. He had to know where things stood. He gripped her hand more tightly. “Did you think more about Indonesia? Did you talk to your family?”
Her shoulder brushed his. “I mentioned it to my sisters.”
“And?”
“They think you sound pretty cool.”
“Me? Cool? Oh, come on.”
She chuckled. “Trust me on this. You’re cool, and you’re doing something important.”
He released
her hand and slipped his arm around her. “I thought about it, too, and Jenna, I want to do it with you. Bali and everything we talked about. A future together, if things work out. What do you say?”
She put her arm around his waist, hooked a finger in a belt loop. “I’m so tempted. It’d be like”—she paused for a long moment—“a dream come true.”
He let out his breath in a whoosh of relief. “Really? I’m glad. I thought your dream was, you know, going wherever the next whim took you.” He hoped she wouldn’t be insulted, but he didn’t know how else to phrase it.
She shook her head. “That was a way of life. A happy, rewarding one, but not a dream. I’d given up on dreams.”
“That’s sad. Because of Travis?”
“No. Because of me. Maybe I thought I didn’t deserve them. Maybe I didn’t trust myself with another dream.”
“And now you do?”
“I guess … I could be getting there.”
They stopped walking and he turned to face her, resting his hands on her shoulders. “What are the dreams you gave up on?” he asked.
Her lips trembled, and she looked vulnerable in the moonlight. “Children. Love. But not the conventional way.”
Dollies in the garden, not sitting around the tea table. “Adventures in interesting places.”
She nodded, eyes wide as they searched his.
“Me, too,” he said, feeling that warm sense of certainty again. “We’re really so alike.”
“I guess in the important ways we are,” she said on a note of surprise. “But Mark, its scary to let myself dream again.”
He touched his forehead to hers. “I’m not Travis. You can trust me. I won’t hurt you. I don’t know for sure where this relationship is going, but it feels so good. Like it’s … as inevitable as the ebb and flow of the tides.”
She nodded slowly. “It’s felt that way from the beginning, when the universe sent us both into Marianne’s Diner.”
“Then trust in it. Trust in us.”