Summer's Desire

by Olivia Lynde

  "But Sunny... although I gave away my kisses, I swear to you, I never gave my true self—that's always been only yours. You believe me?"

  I'm staggered at what he's revealed; he's given me more than I have ever hoped—or even dared to hope—for. He's given me himself.

  I vow to myself in this moment to never, ever let him regret that he's chosen me. And I believe that I can accomplish that. I'm just an ordinary girl, but this boy makes me feel as if I'm extraordinary.

  I share with him, in all honesty: "You alone matter to me. I don't care about the past, only about the future." A tremor goes through him, and I continue fervently, "I want a future with you, Seth." And God, how it hurts that I can't have it! There's nothing I wouldn't do for it. "I love you more than anything, you know? You're my best friend in the whole wide world." Then, forcing a laugh: "Actually, you're my only real friend, so I truly can't afford to lose you."

  Sobering again, I meet his glowing eyes to show him the complete truthfulness in mine. "I'll always love you, Seth, and I'll always need you. Please don't take advantage of me because of this."

  He's holding me so tightly now that I can barely breathe, and he's looking at me as if I'm something precious... something that he would die to protect.

  "I'll never take advantage of you," he tells me fiercely. "I love you, Sunny, more than you could ever imagine."

  His eyes burn with the fires of uncompromising possession, and I think vaguely that I should maybe be scared; that this is too much, too deep, too something. Instead, I'm euphoric, happier than I have ever been in my life.

  I know my eyes are glowing with just as much fervent possessiveness, just as much determination to hold onto him, as his. I think, less vaguely this time, that maybe I should be afraid of the strength of my own feelings for him. They are certainly too much, too deep, too something.

  But I don't care.

  And I don't care about the pain that is sure to follow. When I'll lose him.

  Chapter 21

  Ten minutes ago, he woke me up with a deep, stirring kiss.

  Now we're just lying in bed, my body on top of his, his left arm holding me to him. We're not talking but simply enjoying our closeness. I'm caressing his chest, loving the feel of his powerful muscles underneath my fingers. He's playing with the hair at my nape, and his unremitting touch in that vulnerable area makes me quiver with pleasure.

  Still, I try to behave myself, which means that I confine my stroking hand to his chest area. Eventually though, my sensual curiosity gets the better of me, and I find my restless fingers travelling lower on his torso.

  Seth now seems to be holding his breath.

  After a slow slide... over taut skin and solid muscles... I reach his belly. His abdominal muscles contract instantly, turning to granite—above them, my hand freezes in its tracks.

  Suddenly, my stomach growls. Seth gives a gravelly laugh, then lifts me off him and to the side. He rises from the bed and reaches for my hand, pulling me from the soft bedding and onto my feet.

  "Time for breakfast." He frowns. "Only, we're in trouble. I still didn't get a chance to buy food yesterday, and the fridge and cupboards are all empty. Literally."

  Hmm... "There should still be some milk, though." I remember from yesterday's inspection of the contents of his fridge. "We can have some cereal."

  He shakes his head, amused. "Sorry, Sunny. I know you're a big fan of that awful soggy stuff—obviously some things never change—but I'm not. There aren't any cereals in this apartment."

  "No cereals at all?" I ask in mock-horror.

  "Not even the least trace of one," he confirms with a smirk. "We'll fix that today, okay?"

  "We'd better, if you want to have me here in the morning ever again!" I threaten dramatically. "But what do we do now?"

  He smiles at my pout, lowers his head for a swift kiss, and nips at my lower lip before releasing it. "Now we get dressed and drive to Vernon's Bakery downtown to buy you pastries. After that, we drive on to Grand Rapids. We said we'd go there today so you can shop for everything you need, right?"

  I instantly focus on the most crucial piece of information he's imparted.

  "Pastries?" I'm sure that my eyes and my entire face have lit up like a lantern. And yes, pastries do trump shopping for clothes any day of the week, in my book.

  Seth regards me with an amused smile. He knows what a terrible sweet tooth I have and used to love feeding it—though always with a good dose of teasing added to the mix. I don't tell him that, after I left Rockford five years ago, I completely lost my yen for sugar; when you're moving through life like a sleep-deprived zombie, the last thing you care about is sweets. Now that I'm well-rested and happy, however, my sugar cravings have resurfaced and are clamoring for attention.

  So I smile widely at Seth, joyfully anticipating the feeding of my addiction.

  * * *

  We're in Seth's car en route for Grand Rapids, and I'm munching contentedly on pastries.

  "You do know that you'll really get it if you spread any of that sugary powder stuff in my car?" He says this with absolutely no bite, barely hiding a grin when he sees me licking my fingers.

  "That's not a very effective threat, Seth. You'd do much better specifying what it is that I'll get. Otherwise I'll just be merrily contemplating assorted punishments that I wouldn't mind at all." My mind is already going wild with visions of him "punishing" me with naughty, wicked, delicious kisses—without stopping until I beg for mercy (As if I'd be stupid enough to do that!).

  "Yes, Sunny, but don't you see? That's exactly the beauty of it! By leaving the punishment unspecified, it means that it can, at a later time, be chosen and applied in a completely arbitrary manner by the enforcer. Which is me," he points out slyly.

  "Ooh, that sounds kinky!" I smile craftily. "Are you sure you don't want a bit of my pastry?" I lick my lips and slowly, suggestively take a bite out of a cream puff.

  He aims a scorching sidelong glance at my mouth. "It's not pastries I hunger for just now." Then, with a groan: "You have cream on your lips."

  "Really?" My tone is, of course, innocence itself. Again I dart the tip of my tongue out and lick my lips oh-so-slowly. I hear another groan and give Seth a naughty grin. His lips twitch in answer.

  He reaches for his coffee-to-go and takes a sip. "How come you don't drink coffee?"

  "I tried it once and didn't like the taste." I shrug. "If I kept drinking it, maybe I would start liking it, but to what purpose? I don't want a caffeine addiction on top of the one I seem to have for sweets." I swallow the last of my cream puff. "The pastries were really awesome, Seth! Thank you for buying them for me." I beam at him.

  "You're very welcome, Sunny. I appreciated the show." His eyes gleam.

  Now that my hands are free, he covers my left hand with his right, intertwining our finger, and drives one-handed. When he has to shift gears, he does it with our joined hands, using my palm. Holy smoke, that is so sexy! I like his easy confidence at the wheel and I've definitely come to appreciate the butterflies his touch always sets to buzzing in my stomach.

  I try to distract myself from my lustful thoughts. "Seth?"

  "Hmm?"

  "Why have you always called me Sunny?" Now that I think about it, it seems incredible that I've never actually asked him before why he chose this nickname for me. When I was a child, I just assumed that it was a shortening of my name, Summer—only slightly altered, using the n-consonant instead of m for a chummier sound or whatever. But now I wonder.

  He laughs. "I never told you this, did I?" A long pause follows, and his expression seems slightly conflicted. At length, he tells me softly, "The first time I saw you—when you were five years old and you appeared from that taxi in your white sundress, all blonde hair and creamy skin—I felt like the real sun had come out of the clouds." He squeezes my left hand which is still wrapped in his. "From the very first, you were the sun in my life. So you've always been Sunny to me."

  The sweetness of his wo
rds pierces my heart. I always thought that Sunny was simply his childish nickname for me, and I liked it because it had been chosen by him. Yet I never imagined the true wealth of meaning behind the word, the significance it held for him.

  Though maybe I should have. Even as a seven-year-old, Seth hadn't been one for childish gestures; he had already seen and lived through too much. He was tough even then and yet with me, from the very beginning, he tempered his harshness. He always protected my innocence even though he had lost his own long ago. I blink back tears of gratitude and adoration.

  I think of Seth as he was when we were younger, and I look at him as he is now. In all his guises, he's always given me his all, and in all his guises, I've loved him. Even during our separation he was the unbeatable standard against which I measured all other boys—and found them lacking.

  With sudden insight, I realize this was the real reason why I never had a crush on another boy, why none of them ever tempted me to get involved. It has always been Seth for me. Looking at his flawless profile, I'm overcome with a rush of pure, intense feeling. I'm in love with this boy. I don't just love him; I'm also truly, deeply, head-over-heels in love with him.

  I shake my head at my obtuseness. How could I not see this sooner? This emotion for Seth feels like it's been part of me forever, embedded in the very fabric of my being along with my need and my possessiveness of him. I guess it's true that there is no worse blind than the one who doesn't want to see. I didn't believe I could have Seth in any way beyond the platonic, so I buried all my other feelings deep.

  But it's all in the open now, and I'm all in. I've leaped from a very high place indeed... I only hope that I can live through the inevitable crash.

  * * *

  "I don't like those jeans," Seth informs me with a ferocious scowl.

  We're at the mall, in the casual wear section of a trendy women's store that offers good quality at a reasonable price tag. I'm choosing clothes and trying them on, and this time I've gone for stuff in my own size. It was time, I decided, to stop hiding behind my habitual "uniform". Whatever time I would be given with Seth, I didn't want it shadowed by any of my old fears and insecurities.

  Seth, on the other hand, seems to have gained a new appreciation for my old dressing style. Watching me as I try on my selections, he's been frowning a lot.

  Before entering the store, I had offered him the chance to go and do something else while I bought clothes. Though I didn't really want to be left by myself, neither did I want him to get bored. However, he told me matter-of-factly that we were here together, he had no intention of separating from me, and besides, it was crazy of me to think he could ever get bored in my company no matter what we were doing. Thus, we stayed together.

  And for the past hour, I've been modeling clothes for Seth, my personal enraptured audience of one.

  "Why don't you like these jeans?" I ask him now, grinning widely.

  "They make your legs look too long." He sounds completely serious—and completely put out.

  "Well, that's a good thing since I'm not very tall."

  "Your height is perfect!" He scowls again. "But these jeans are too tight."

  "How can they be too tight? They're skinny jeans. They're supposed to fit snugly." This is so much fun!

  "But the way they mold your ass..." he protests gruffly.

  Since I came out of the changing cabin, he's been staring as if my jean-clad butt were his favorite délicatesse and he were a starving man.

  I raise my eyebrow. "Yes?"

  "It's too damn sexy!" he erupts, eyes blazing with lust and frustration. I burst out laughing.

  He glowers at me some more, then closes his eyes for a moment, shakes his head. His lips twitch. "The jeans look hot on you. You're hot. Buy the damn jeans!"

  "But you don't like them," I tease.

  "I like them too damn much. But that's not the problem; the problem's all the assholes who'll also like them too much on you. I'll have to fight them off with a stick to keep them away from my girlfriend."

  I grin hugely at him. "Your girlfriend, huh? What a lucky girl!"

  He comes to me, wraps his arms around me, and lowers his head into the crook of my neck. His warm breath, falling on the sensitive skin below my nape, electrifies me like a live wire.

  "I'm the one who's lucky," he murmurs, placing upward kisses on my neck. I go weak in the knees; it's a good thing he's holding me upright, or else I might embarrass myself by falling down like a freaking wet noodle at his feet. He traces the delicate shell of my ear with parted lips. "I liked your old pants better," he says. His raspy tone, the gossamer feel of his mouth, make me feel all fluttery.

  "I noticed," I manage to croak.

  "But if you want to wear sexy jeans,"—he nips at the corner of my ear and raises his head to meet my passion-glazed eyes—"I'll learn to live with it." He releases me and gives me a gentle push in the direction of the cabin. "Now go see what else you need because I'm starting to get real hungry." He makes the word hungry sound positively wicked.

  I quickly make the rest of my selections. After all the stress I've been under recently (and in particular, thanks to my enforced Jessica-"Devil's Spawn"-Anderson Diet) I'm a couple of pounds lighter than usual. Still, it's only been two weeks' worth of damage, and now that I'm in a better (read: ecstatically happy) frame of mind, I'll return to my normal weight soon enough; with all the pastries I've gulped down this morning, I'm definitely on the right track. As it is, I choose clothes in my normal size, and they fit mostly fine apart from being a little loose around the waist.

  After we take the bags with my purchases to the car, we head for the food court, holding hands. Seth skipped breakfast this morning (coffee doesn't count) and the pastries I ate didn't exactly tide me over for long.

  We walk by a display where I notice a beautiful double-breasted gray coat with belt, and I stop to admire it. Seeing my interest, Seth drags me into the shop and makes me try the coat on. It fits me perfectly, but I think the price is a bit too high.

  Seth disagrees. "It makes you look sophisticated, but still young. It looks really good on you, and you still need a light coat. So take this one."

  "Seth, there's not much money left from what Greg gave me," I admit regretfully while stroking the coat's fabric. It's so sleek and soft! "I think I went a bit overboard with all those clothes I chose earlier. And I still have to buy, you know, underthings."

  "Sunny, you didn't go overboard with the clothes. Jessica destroyed all your things, so you needed everything you bought. And money isn't a problem. I'll buy the coat for you."

  "You can't buy the coat for me!" I protest, all wound up. "It's not right! Plus, you aren't some indolent rich kid with too much money; why would you spend what you have on me?" For crying out loud, I know his situation, and I've seen his place! He isn't exactly drowning in luxury.

  He appears exasperated. "Sunny, I have enough damn money to buy my girl a damn coat. And lingerie too, for that matter," he adds with a crooked grin.

  I give him a horrified look. "I'm not letting you pay for my undies!"

  His grin turns smug. "Then you had better let me pay for the coat."

  I stare at him for long moments. At length, I give in with a muttered "Okay". When he gets this obstinate, there's no changing his mind. "Thank you," I add graciously.

  I really do like the coat, but I feel so guilty about Seth spending money on me. I raise myself on my toes and draw him down to plant a big smooch on his cheek. He seems taken aback for a moment, then his beautiful lips stretch into a blindingly happy smile. All for me.

  He takes a card out of his wallet and makes the payment.

  Then we head to the food court. We sit down at a small table and eat burgers while holding hands.

  * * *

  We are in front of Seth's apartment building, unloading from the BMW's trunk the groceries we bought earlier.

  Gazing at the shopping bags filled with my purchases, I find myself speaking: "Seth, would you m
ind if I left most of my new clothes at your place? I don't want to risk Jessica getting her knife, err... I mean her claws, into my stuff again."

  He gives me a startled look, finishes loading his hands with grocery bags, and closes the trunk.

  "Hey!" I complain. "Let me carry something too!"

  He calmly reopens the trunk and hands me one bag—which, incidentally, is the smallest one of all. I give him an are-you-kidding-with-me-right-now sort of look, which he ignores. Loaded with a dozen bags himself, he heads for the apartment. Peeved, I follow in his wake with my one tiny bag.

  "Of course I won't mind if you keep your things at my place," he tells me, seeming... satisfied. Huh? What's up with that? He smirks. "I like the idea of you sharing my closet." Underneath the levity, though, he still has this considering expression as if he were trying to figure out a way to broach a more sensitive topic with me.

  But then he frowns, as if remembering something else. "By the way, you clearly never got along with Jessica. So why didn't you lock your door to stop her from getting inside your room? If you had, she couldn't have done all that damage."

  I blow out a breath, frustrated. "Yeah, well, apparently Greg doesn't believe in installing locks on inner doors since they encourage emotional as well as physical separation, or some such psychological nonsense. The truth is that after I moved into his house I expressly asked him to put a lock on my door—mainly because Jessica kept coming into my room to hound me—but he refused point-black."

  Seth's face fills with rage. "You're telling me that you can't even lock your door? You're actually telling me that fucking bitch can enter your room whenever she wants, even when you're asleep and most vulnerable?"

  With an angry movement, he unlocks the apartment and opens the door, stepping aside to let me enter first. We go to the kitchen area and start to unpack the groceries.