Wish On The Moon

by Karen Rose Smith

  The throbbing of Mitch's body reminded him his needs were physical, not emotional. But the tugging on his heart contradicted logic. He felt Laura's life flowing into him, her vibrancy, her fiery spirit. And he felt whole. How could he? Why did he react to her like this?

  The shimmering stroke of her tongue on his lips was like liquid fire. When she sought his heated depths, he opened his mouth, waiting for more.

  But she retreated, hesitated, and he wondered about her unaccustomed shyness. This was wild, impulsive Laura. Why was she tentative and...scared?

  He opened his eyes and lifted his head. "What's wrong?"

  The cloudy doubts suddenly left her eyes and she pulled him back down, gliding her tongue across his lips, once, twice, taunting him. She could make him crazy this way.

  "Laura, kiss me again," he murmured, his voice a raspy caress.

  "I am," she said softly. Coming to him a third time, she slipped the tip of her tongue between his lips.

  He dragged in his breath and waited. She brushed over his teeth then dashed inside recklessly. That broke his control. He made a sound of satisfaction, of need. To deny her was to deny himself. He was damn tired of that. He lifted her off her feet so they fit together perfectly.

  She moved, brushing the ridge of his arousal, making his knees shake. What about this woman made him feel weak and vulnerable, yet strong and invincible at the same time? The sensuality of their bodies touching led him to forget questions he had. Doubts about the future fled. This woman was his...now. Laura.

  If he said her name, it was lost in the kiss. She was trembling as she strained against him. She kissed like she did everything else--wholeheartedly. She held nothing back.

  He swung her into his arms, amazed that he needed to feel strong and protective as he carried her to his bedroom. He laid her gently on the bed, turned on the light and quickly slipped off his jacket and tie.

  "I want to undress you," she said with such longing he almost ripped off their clothes to rush toward the end result. But he didn't intend to rush with Laura. He intended to enjoy.

  He sat on the edge of the bed and tried to remain composed as she started with his shirt. He watched her hands on him as her fingers created need and more need and he locked his jaw. By the time she undid his belt buckle and reached for his zipper, he was shaking.

  Her clothes took less time because he couldn't wait to see her. When she was naked, then he'd move slowly. But her skin glowed in the mellow lamplight, undermining his resolve. He lay beside her and tasted her neck first. It wasn't nearly enough. His hand found her breast. Her first soft moan was the only one that hit the air. He swallowed the rest in a profound kiss that broke out sweat all over his body.

  Slow it down, Riley. Slow it down.

  He tore away and smoothed his palm over her nipple, his eyes holding hers. She cried out. She was the most passionate woman he'd ever met.

  When she blushed, it surprised him. "Don't hold back. I want to hear you as much as I want to see and touch you."

  She smiled and raised her brows, even though her cheeks were still flaming.

  He grinned and admitted huskily, "Almost as much."

  Her understanding washed over him. "I don't want you to hold back either. Pretend you're designing. Pretend--"

  "I don't have to pretend anything, Laura. Because when I touch you, when you touch me, there's no armor left. You penetrate it all too easily." As soon as he said it, he knew he shouldn't have. Now she had power over him. He'd live to regret it.

  But regret wasn't on his mind as her hands caressed his face, then his shoulders. Every touch peeled away more of his layer of self-protection. As her nails scraped lightly through his chest hair, he made a low sound of pleasure from her touch, but it was mixed with pain--pain from feelings that crashed against each other without him knowing what they were. Laura buried resolve, rules, reality. There were only her soft hands, her sweet taste, his arousal--hard, hot, demanding.

  He cupped the weight of her breast in his hand and his thumb circled slowly. "So soft." When he rimmed the rosy circle and she moaned, he murmured, "Fragile and unique." At last his thumb went up one side of her hardened nipple and down the other. "So ready." His eyes bored into hers. "Are you ready for me, Laura?"

  Laura tried to break out of the passionate haze. But staring at his incredibly male shoulders, broad chest and powerful arousal made it almost impossible. She knew he'd be beautiful. But not this beautiful. She had to forget his physical attributes because his immediate question demanded more than a blurry, careless answer. What would their coupling mean? Was she ready to accept the complications, the consequences, especially if he never came to love her?

  The answer was simple really. She loved him. Nothing else mattered. "I'm ready."

  The surge of need on his face startled her, but he didn't try to hide it and she was glad. She wanted to tell him he could trust her with his heart, but she never got the chance.

  His eyes were alive with passion. She loved the thought she could incite it. Her body pulsed with feminine life. He reached for her and she reached for him.

  He touched her everywhere but where she wanted to be touched most. It was the most exquisite form of torture, an extraordinarily exciting way to bring her to full arousal. She quivered as the keening yearning between her legs swept through every limb to each nerve and became a pulsing need. Unable to keep still, to try and assuage the emptiness, she threw her leg over his hip and moved against him.

  He marveled, "You are so passionate...so responsive. I can't wait."

  She lovingly enclosed him in her hand and he growled a primal sound. "Don't wait. I want you now."

  Quickly, he slipped on protection and rose above her, his passion evident in his tight muscles, his slick body, his expression. She knew he tried to restrain himself but with the first touch of her accepting him, he entered her with masterful strength.

  She arched to take all of him and the spiraling began, one circle after another as he thrust again...and again. All she could do was hold on for dear life. He set a frenzied pace that conveyed how much he wanted her, how badly he needed her. She hugged him with her thighs, scraped her nails across his back, and gloried in the love she felt for him.

  She began a steep ascent to another plane. Colors swam in front of her eyes, iridescent colors--colors like jewels flung against the sun--fiery ruby, explosive diamond, shimmering sapphire, brilliant emerald. She was suspended in the sky until all the colors combined into an eye shattering, resplendent star. The beauty was so overwhelming she cried out with wonder and awe.

  Seconds after, Mitch shuddered and collapsed on top of her.

  He slid to his side a few minutes later and held her. But when she turned to look at him, he wasn't smiling.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Shattering. That's the only word that filled Mitch's mind. He felt as if he'd given Laura his life's blood. What was worse was that he wanted to do it again...needed to do it again.

  But he wouldn't. Feelings he couldn't sort were bursting inside him.

  "Mitch?"

  Her eyes were luminescent, her face flushed. He remembered exactly how she'd looked as he aroused her and brought her to climax. But he didn't know what she expected now. He didn't know what he expected. Only one thought kept running through his head like a computer print-out that wouldn't quit.

  He voiced it. "You're leaving in three weeks."

  "What does that have to do with tonight?" she asked.

  "If we keep this up, we'll both hurt when you go. Do you want that?"

  "I don't want to hurt any more than you do. But what we shared tonight was--"

  "Incredible," he cut in. "Don't you see how much more difficult that makes everything? There's Ray to think about, and Mandy..."

  "What about us, Mitch?"

  She was trying to pull something from him. Something he couldn't give. It had to do with trust and love and he didn't know if he could give either. Voices echoed in his head. His parents
arguing. His father saying he wished Mitch had never been born. Carey and his father laughing over a ribald joke and not including Mitch. His mother trying to convince him his father cared about him, but shushing him whenever Sam Riley was drunk or in a bad mood. Denise leaving to take a job across the country and not being overly upset by it. Where had that thought come from? He'd told himself he didn't care.

  Trusting the feeling between himself and Laura was as foreign to him as sailing on a foreign ocean. Laura grabbed what she wanted and lived every ounce of life out of it. But caution had always been his guide. Maybe a brief affair was enough for her, but it couldn't be for him.

  She was waiting for an answer.

  He tenderly brushed her cheek, not wanting to hurt or disappoint her, but knowing what he needed to do to protect her and himself. "Once wasn't enough. But three weeks won't be any better."

  "So you'd rather have nothing than the beauty of what we shared tonight?"

  Mitch pushed himself up against the headboard, closed his eyes, and rubbed his hands over his face. "I don't know."

  She stroked his forearm. "This doesn't have to be as hard or complicated as you think. Your feelings will guide you."

  Passion stirred again at her touch. He wasn't used to letting his feelings guide him any more than he was used to following the sun. "It might be easy for you, but it will never be easy for me." He ignored the longing to take her in his arms. "We'd better get dressed. It will be midnight before we get to York."

  He saw the same yearning he was feeling on Laura's face. Before he did something about it, he shifted away and dropped his legs over the side of the bed. It was going to be a long drive.

  ***

  Gnarled branches reached up to an azure sky as Laura took a long, vigorous walk Sunday afternoon. The November breeze pushed puffs of whipped cream clouds against one another. She'd been wired since Friday night. Silence had never been as thundering as it was in the car when Mitch drove from Harrisburg to York. Making love with him had been...

  Tears pricked in her eyes whenever she thought about it. Their souls had fused as well as their bodies. But he wouldn't admit it or face it. Since her father was getting stronger, Mitch had said he'd stay in Harrisburg until Thanksgiving to prepare the store for the Christmas rush. Yes, he was needed there, but it was also a convenient excuse.

  Mitch had been gone a day and she missed him already. She couldn't stay in York without him asking her to stay. But he couldn't ask unless he acknowledged his feelings and trusted them. He wasn't used to doing that.

  Laura was surprised when she rounded a corner and saw her childhood home. She'd been almost jogging instead of walking. Still brimming with energy she couldn't burn off, she wandered around the front walk to the back yard. When she was a teenager, she'd sit at the stream and let the babbling gurgles and its constant flow soothe her. Maybe it could do that now.

  Cutting caddy-corner across the grass, she thought she saw movement by the stream. Tree trunks blocked her view. Maybe she'd spy a deer.

  But it wasn't a deer. It was her father and Mandy. Curious, she moved closer.

  Ray held Mandy's hand, gently swinging it back and forth as they stared at the water swirling over the rocks.

  Laura approached them and heard her dad ask, "Are you cold, honey?"

  The little girl shook her head. "Huh uh. Mommy says fresh air is good for me--just like love and sunshine."

  Laura held her breath, wondering how her father would react to what he used to term "romantic nonsense."

  "Your mommy's right. Did she ever tell you how she and your grandmother would come here to the stream and wade in their bare feet?"

  "She must've forgot. Didn't you stick your feet in too?"

  His answer was slow in coming and sad. "I was too busy."

  "Too busy to play in the water? Didn't you want to?"

  "I wanted to. But I was too busy for too many things in those days."

  "Was it a long, long time ago?"

  His expression was indulgent as he smiled down at his granddaughter. "Before you were born."

  "Maybe Mommy and I can come back when it's hot and we can all put our feet in."

  "I'd like that very much. But you live pretty far away."

  Laura thought she heard a huskiness in his voice and suddenly realized how much it meant to him for her and Mandy to be here. And it had nothing to do with the business. Her dad might never say he regretted their estrangement, but he did. In the few short weeks they'd been here, Mandy had become an important part of his world.

  Since the conversation she and Mitch had had with Mandy on the plane, Mandy and Ray had been together more often. Mandy was no longer afraid of him. When Laura came home from the store, more often than not, she found Mandy nestled on Ray's lap while they watched cartoons or he read her a story, rather than helping Nora in the kitchen.

  Had Laura ignored their budding relationship purposely? She was happy for her daughter but part of her hurt because she'd never been that close to her father. Had he felt left out because she and her mother were so in tune? And then when her mother died, he was at a loss? It made sense now. As a teenager, she hadn't possessed the insight to see it.

  Laura walked slowly toward her father and daughter.

  Ray heard her approach and looked over his shoulder. "Have a good walk?"

  She nodded. "This kind of day makes you forget how ugly November can be."

  "Mommy, can we come back when it's hot so we can play in the stream with Gramps?"

  Laura's eyes found her father's. If she hadn't reached out enough in the past, she needed to do it now for all their sakes. "Would you like that, Dad?"

  His eyes glistened. "You're welcome here anytime." As if embarrassed by his obvious emotion, he took a more formal stance again and shrugged. "I certainly have enough room." Clearing his throat, he dropped Mandy's hand. "I'm going in. You two staying out here?"

  "We could. Or we could go inside and play a game of Candyland."

  "Candyland!" Mandy shrieked.

  Ray smiled. "Sounds good to me. Then we can bother Nora as she makes supper."

  "Or we can help her."

  "I'm all thumbs in the kitchen," Ray grumbled.

  "Thumbs are good for mixing meatloaf," Laura teased.

  "You think she'd let me try?" Ray looked as hopeful as Mandy when she asked for something she was doubtful she'd get.

  Laura grinned. "I'm sure if Nora doesn't let you mix it, she'll let you add the bread crumbs."

  Ray returned the grin.

  ***

  Laura knew instantly when Mitch returned. It wasn't the sound of the door, or his footfalls, or even the sound of his voice minutes later. She'd sensed his presence.

  She looked down the front of her sweatshirt and grimaced. It was liberally decorated with streaks and spots of flour from the pie dough she'd mixed. She and Nora were getting ready for Thanksgiving the next day by making apple pie and a special low fat mousse for Ray.

  When Mitch came into the kitchen, Laura's head came up and all thoughts of flour and pies were forgotten.

  His gaze took in Nora peeling apples and Laura holding the rolling pin. "Ladies, don't you know it's eight p.m.? The day should be winding down."

  "Laura wanted to help so we got supper out of the way before we started."

  Mitch walked over to his mother and snatched a piece of apple from the bowl. "Where's Mandy?"

  Laura wanted to run to him, throw her arms around him, and tell him she'd stay in York to nurture the feelings growing between them. Instead, her hands trembled as she folded the pie shell into quarters to lift it onto the pie plate. "She got bored with us. She's with Dad watching one of the Christmas specials." Her eyes caught his. "She's been asking about you."

  "I missed her. I bought her two more books and some stickers."

  Did you miss me? Laura wondered, then pushed the question away. "She'll like that." Laura felt awkward, not knowing what Mitch was feeling, if he was feeling anything.


  When Mitch tried to sneak another wedge of apple, Nora slapped his hand. "Whole apples are in the refrigerator."

  Mitch's grin was boyish. "But these don't have the peel."

  His mother shook her head and handed him the quarter she'd just peeled. "Here. That's it or we'll never get finished."

  He popped it in his mouth, crunched, chewed and swallowed. "I'll unpack and give Mandy her books."

  Even the way he chewed was sexy... Laura took a deep breath. "How long are you staying?"

  "The Friday and Saturday after Thanksgiving are our two busiest days of the year. If you think you can handle the store here alone, I'll go back to Harrisburg Friday."

  At least he was giving her professional capabilities a vote of confidence. "I can handle it." She didn't know if she could handle being close to him all day tomorrow and not touching him.

  Two hours later, Laura took the apple pie from the oven and set it on a cooling rack. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled and she knew Mitch was watching her. She turned and the power of his gaze took her breath away. She remembered the first time she'd skydived from an airplane. This was the same breathtaking, freefalling sensation. He wasn't hiding anything now. His stare was loaded with possessiveness, passion, and longing.

  Thoroughly rattled, she dropped a pot holder. Before she could move, he strode across the room, stooped, and picked it up. He handed it to her and their fingers touched.

  His hand engulfed hers, potholder and all. "The pies smell delicious."

  She was amazed he could act so...so normal when everything inside of her was screaming to him to take her in his arms.

  "Laura?"

  She found her voice. "What?"

  "Don't look at me like that."

  Tears came to her eyes. She pulled her hand from his and faced the counter. "What do you want me to do, Mitch? Pretend I don't want you to hold me or make love to me?"

  She heard his oath but his hands were gentle as he took hold of her shoulders and turned her around. "I don't want you to pretend." He attempted a smile. "Besides, I don't think you'd know how."