Worth the Risk

by Anne Lange

  He bent his head low, paused, and pressed his lips to hers. It should have been gentle, but it wasn’t. Unless she pushed him away, or told him no, the need to kiss her was vital, her taste essential. She stilled. He tensed, expecting her to do just that when she raised her arms and placed her palms against his chest. He held his breath, his body trembling while he waited. A heavy sigh escaped her mouth, and she curled the tips of her fingers into his shirt. With a soft whimper, she lured him closer, leaning into his body, taking his kiss.

  A flood of emotions strangled him—anger, relief, basic sexual need. Pressing his highly aroused body solidly against hers, he flattened his palms against the tree on either side of her head. A moan rose from his chest. He swept his tongue inside her mouth, dueling with hers. He touched the soft insides of her cheeks and the smooth surface of her teeth, absorbing her unique essence, which was even better than he remembered. He drew back to lick along her bottom lip, placing small kisses at the corners, and then dove back in for more, angling for a closer connection. A sense of urgency began to build. God, he’d missed this.

  His erection strained against his jeans, the extent of his arousal staggering him. He let his hands drop to rest on the slight swell of her hips. Sheltered in this dark spot, with only the nocturnal animals scampering in the brush and the distant sound of campers to keep them company, he willed his body to relax and enjoy the absolute delight of having this woman in his arms once again. He smoothed his hands up her sides, coming around to hold the weight of her breasts.

  As though they had all night, he touched her, refreshing his memory of how perfect a fit her body was to his. Using the edge of his fingers, he rubbed across her nipples, smiling against her mouth when they responded, turning into rigid points noticeable even through her layers of clothing. He pinched the tips, swallowing her gasp of pleasure, when she squirmed against him.

  Widening his stance and bending his knees, he canted his hips to grind his pelvis against hers. She pushed back, and he hardened even more. God, how much stiffer could he get? Reaching under her shirt, he ran his hands up the softness of her belly to the rim of her bra, pushing it up and over her breasts. They spilled into his hands, free for his exploration.

  Excitement coursed through him at the opportunity to touch her velvet skin. He passed the coarse pads of his thumbs across the tips again, grazing her nipples that were now peaked into hard little cherries. Hidden from view, he referred to his memory. He pictured the tops of her breasts in his mind, her satiny skin flushed with arousal, the pale pink nipples turned dark and rosy, ready for the touch of his mouth. He was eager to see them glistening from his kisses.

  She moaned, leaning heavy against him. He slid his hands down her torso, to the top of her jeans, undid the snap, and pushed them down to her knees. He rested one hand against her hip, his fingers spread wide, while he reached between her legs with the other. He found her ready, hot, and creamy. She parted her legs as far as the pants allowed. He growled, slipped a finger inside, pushed his palm against her clit, and applied firm pressure.

  She mewled and with tentative moves started rubbing herself against his hand. He slipped another finger in beside the first and starting pumping them in and out. She bucked, grinding against his hand. He increased the pace. Faster and faster, he thrust his hand, using his thumb to stimulate her clit.

  Her breath came in hard frantic bursts; his lungs worked double-time. It didn’t take long. A few firm flicks over her clit, and Molly’s back arched, pushing her pussy snug against him, driving his fingers deep. She sucked in her breath as her body convulsed around him.

  He held her close while he continued to caress her, using a more gentle touch, remembering how sensitive she would be. He tipped his head back to watch her. He wanted to see her eyes fill with passion, her skin glow with arousal. Her lashes rested against her cheeks, as her chest rose with each labored breath.

  Minutes passed until she opened her eyes. They were glazed and unfocused as she glanced around. In too short a time, clarity returned. He watched it happen. She peered up, her eyes round and wide, shock registering on her face. Then she pushed him away. Stumbling, she yanked her jeans up, jerked her bra down and her sweater back into place. OK, not the reaction he was hoping for.

  She refused to look at him. Tanner stepped back, his rock-hard cock begging for relief. His breaths came in heavy pants. His blood boiled beneath his skin. His desire to bury himself deep inside her, to feel her pussy clutching him, left him shaking. He clenched his fists against his thighs. Fuck, he felt like a kid again, trying to grab a quickie before taking his girlfriend home.

  “I’m sorry.” Well, not really, but now was not the time to tell her that.

  “I…we should head back to camp.” With trembling hands, she tugged on her sweater, making unnecessary adjustments. Finally she chanced a quick peek in his direction. Even in the dark, with filtered moonlight shining down on her face, her embarrassment screamed at him. She turned and ran before he could stop her.

  In that short glimpse, in addition to the embarrassment, he saw the lingering arousal he’d been hoping for. He also saw desperation. The embarrassment he understood—what had happened had been unplanned—and the urgent, unexpected depth of their arousal had shaken her. It sure as hell surprised him. However, the despair confused and alarmed him. He hurried after her. “Wait. Hold up. You shouldn’t run down the path in the dark.”

  Thankfully, she slowed to a walk, although she kept her distance, not saying a word during the short trip back to camp. When they got there, she grabbed an empty seat between Colleen and Violet, leaving him to sit opposite her, near Brad and Matt. Without a glance in his direction, she joined in their banter, feigning interest, obvious in her attempt to appear uninterested to him.

  Six months ago, after his last girlfriend left claiming he had commitment issues, he’d examined the state of his life. That’s when he discovered he’d never gotten over Molly Simpson. He’d spent the next few weeks reliving their last few months, trying to figure out where things had gone wrong. He was surprised to realizes he had been withdrawn for weeks before he left. Thinking back on it, she’d been less talkative since that last winter break. At the time, he’d chalked it up to finals and her new job at the newspaper. But, something had been wrong. He didn’t know it then, but he did now.

  He would let it go for tonight. Based on her response back by the tree, something still existed between them, a passion he intended to explore. Part of the exploration would be discovering what in the hell happened to his girlfriend ten years ago. The other part considered her plans for her future, or more to the point, their future.

  Chapter Five

  Molly yawned. The moon owned a place high in the sky, lighting up the ground below. Her behavior tonight shamed her. How could she give in so totally, so fast? Make it so easy for him? God, she hadn’t seen the man in ten years. And in one night, he had her pressed up against a tree and coming on his hand. What must he think of her? She needed to escape and go over the events of the day, figure out where her resolve had slipped. She hoped Violet wouldn’t be in the mood to chat tonight.

  “I’m heading to bed.” She stifled another yawn. “See you in the morning.” Colleen and the others acknowledged her departure with a mixture of waves and mumbled wishes for sweet dreams.

  “I think I’ll turn in too.” Violet rose to join Molly. They turned toward the tent they were sharing. Keeping her head down, Molly fiddled with her zipper to avoid looking in Tanner’s direction.

  The girls made a quick trip to the restroom and then settled in for the night. It was cool enough to warrant warm pajamas and socks. They snuggled into down-filled sleeping bags before Violet’s hushed voice broke the silence.

  “Do want to talk about it?”

  “About what?”

  “About whatever’s bothering you.” Violet lay in silence beside her for a few beats and then shifted and rolled to her side, facing Molly in the dark. “You were there for me all t
hose years ago when my mom and I first moved to town and I had nobody. You’re my friend. I want to help.”

  Molly swallowed. She had the best friends. If only she could tell them. “I’m OK. It was just a shock to see Tanner today.”

  “Have you spoken to him since he left?”

  “Today was the first time in ten years.”

  “I’m here if you need me.”

  “I know you are. Thank you. You’re a good friend.”

  Violet rolled to her other side. Molly wrestled with her emotions in silence, taking a few deep breaths, trying to calm the trembling before Violet noticed. Soon, soft snores drifted across from her side of the tent. Molly lay staring at the roof, watching images of tree branches and leaves sway back and forth across the canvas, the shapes distorted by the flickering light of the campfire. Muted conversations and sporadic laughter filtered through the night.

  She lifted her hand to her lips, recalling how his lips felt against hers—demanding, yet familiar. She stroked down to her breast, then her stomach, remembering how his hands played her body—gentle, yet familiar. She cupped herself between her legs, calling to mind how it felt to come apart in his arms—explosive, oh, so familiar.

  Heat flamed her cheeks. He still had the power to light her body on fire. He remembered where to touch her, how to please her. She had never planned to test the theory, but she had always assumed being in his arms again would resurrect fond memories of her love for the young man he had been.

  Instead, his caress invoked the desires of a woman. A woman who had gone too long without the attention of a man. He delivered powerful kisses, as though he had been holding on to them for the last ten years. One simple touch of lips had ignited the inferno she’d assumed dormant. Lust rushed her brain and closed off every rational notion—except one—her longing to be held and loved again and the desire to know what she’d been missing since he left.

  Her toes curled at the memory of her orgasm. She’d been helpless to do anything but accept it, even revel in it, which she did. Thank God her senses had returned before she’d done something stupid—like throw herself at him and beg him to fuck her hard and fast against that tree. She shivered.

  He scared her. Not his physical person, but the emotion she seemed to summon with no effort. She’d worked hard to put the past behind her. To bury the hopes and dreams she’d once had.

  Molly remembered that night on the beach. God, it seemed like ages ago. She waited for the memories to bombard her. One of the best nights of her life, and ultimately, one of the worst. She often suspected that was the night she conceived Tanner’s child.

  * * *

  Molly jerked awake. Startled, she darted glances around the tent, her ears perked, listening for something out of place. In a tent, the silence of the hour amplified all other sounds. She heard a few of her friends shift positions in their sleep, emitting muffled grumbles as they resettled. Ears straining, she waited. She’d been asleep for a while. The snap and pop of dying embers and the occasional shifting of a broken log were the only noises outside the tent.

  The soft hiss of a pulled zipper stole through the night. She tensed. Her breathing stilled as she tried to determine the direction it came from. Somebody shuffled quietly through the campsite, footsteps moving away from the tents, and then nothing for a few minutes. She waited until they returned, coming from the direction of the trees. Probably one of the guys.

  The crush of grass underfoot got louder as the steps drew near. They paused when they reached her side of the tent. Tanner. Molly held her breath, waiting for him to move on. When he didn’t, she considered that perhaps she was mistaken, but then his knees cracked as he bent down.

  “Molly?” His call was a whisper. “Are you awake?”

  She dared not move, not breathe. Her lungs began to burn. When he received no response, he stood, hesitating for a moment before retreating to his own tent.

  She released her breath when she heard him draw the zipper closed behind him. She listened to him settling down again. Relieved, she turned on her side and closed her eyes, willing sleep to return.

  When sleep claimed her hours later, she didn’t have the pleasure of dreaming about shopping for shoes or handbags or even going back to that night on the beach. She returned to the event that changed everything, the day her hopes and dreams shattered like a broken mirror.

  Chapter Six

  Tanner stepped away from the tent, stretched his arms over his head, and yawned. His joints cracking couldn’t drown out the sound of birds singing and squirrels chattering as they argued over territory. The occasional cloud dotting the otherwise blue sky promised a beautiful spring day. The clanging of pots and the aroma of bacon drifted on the warm breeze. Campers were up and starting their day.

  He grabbed a shower at the communal restrooms before the rest of the campground woke up. When he returned, he found Molly awake, absorbed in preparing breakfast. He walked up behind her. “Good morning.”

  She jumped. “Oh, sorry. Morning. I didn’t hear you.” Keeping her eyes downcast, she kept her back to him.

  Going on instinct, he reached around and grasped her chin in his hand. With gentle force, he turned her toward him. The skin around her bloodshot eyes appeared puffy, strained, and pale. She’d been crying. Her eyes widened the tiniest bit before her gaze dropped to the ground.

  His eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I’m fine, thanks. I didn’t sleep well, and I…I need a shower to wake up.”

  More like she needed an opportunity to escape. “I’ll take care of breakfast. You go have a shower while it’s not too busy yet.”

  “Thanks. I’d appreciate that.” She backed away from him and leaped to grab her stuff, which she’d already assembled on the picnic table. She rushed off, moving as though demons from hell were on her tail. No demons. Just him.

  She tossed a quick glance back over her shoulder and slowed her pace. Judging by the panic etched on her delicate features, she wanted to run. He stood, watchful until she disappeared around the bend. Damn it.

  He walked over to stow his gear in the tent. Brad lay on his stomach, his face ground into his pillow, oblivious to Tanner going in and out of the tent. He returned to the kitchen tent to finish breakfast preparations.

  Sleep had been elusive, and not because Brad snored like a diesel engine. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Molly. About kissing her and making her come. She’d responded to him like never before. She had become a beautiful woman, one he wanted to get to know all over again. He was determined to spend more time with her, much more time before the weekend came to a close.

  When Molly returned, she maintained her distance. The smell of cooking sausages permeated the air as they sat sipping coffee, waiting for the others to join them. She turned on a radio, tuned to the local station, and hummed along with the songs—an obvious excuse to avoid conversation. He refused to be put off. He would simply bide his time.

  The tempting breakfast odors, or the craving for caffeine, soon rousted the rest of their party. They rolled out of their tents, some groggy, some chipper, all starving. After gobbling down eggs, sausage, and toast, they sat around the picnic table, drinking an assortment of beverages.

  Tanner noticed Sam and Olivia sharing a secret smile. Best friends since the cradle, they started dating in high school, but delayed getting married until they both completed university and secured full-time jobs. Guilt assailed him, one more time, over the fact that he didn’t come home for their wedding. He hadn’t even called.

  Sam cleared his throat, attracting everyone’s attention. Looking a little bashful, he turned to them. “Liv and I have news we wanted to share with you guys.” He glanced at his wife, an endearing smile on his face. “We’re having a baby.”

  A stunned silence followed for about a millisecond before the other girls squealed and stumbled over themselves to get around the table to hug Olivia, while the men damn near knocked Sam off the bench patting him on the
back. Molly didn’t rush to congratulate the happy couple. In fact, her face lost what little color she had left. That mysterious expression returned, before she rose and left the table.

  Other than a concerned glance from Colleen, nobody but Tanner noticed her quick, but quiet, exit. He stood to follow her. With her head down, she sprinted past the other campers, taking the same route from the night before. He hung back, but kept her in his sights. About one hundred yards in, she veered off the path and ducked into the trees.

  Tanner found her in a small clearing hidden by a handful of large bushes. She sat on a large boulder, knees up, arms curled around them, hiding her face in an attempt to muffle her sobs. Her whole body trembled. The shear agony in her posture, in her cries, pierced his heart. He crept closer. When he was within a few feet, he called out, keeping his voice low, his tone soothing. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

  She scrambled away from the rock and spun to face him. Her eyes were wide. Tears flowed down her face. Her panic turned to grief when she realized it was him. A heartfelt sob wracked her body, and she started to crumble to the ground. He rushed forward, catching her before her knees hit the dirt, and gathered her into his arms.

  At first, she resisted, her body coiled like a spring. She pushed at his chest, but he held firm, clutching her tighter through her brief struggle. Defeated, she went limp and fell into his embrace, wrapping her arms around his waist and tucking her head under his chin.

  “Hush, honey…it’s OK.” He pressed his face into her hair as he cuddled her close. Her body shook with the force of her sobs. “It’s OK.” Keeping his hold on her, he shifted and moved a few steps backward to lean against the boulder.

  With her secure in his arms, he rocked back and forth for what seemed like hours until she stopped crying and her body sagged against his. When she lifted her hand to wipe her face, he let her pull away, certain she’d try to hide from him again. “What was that about?”