“Parents should respect a child’s interests,” Seth said, solemnly, then took a bite.
“How about yours?” she asked.
“How about mine, what?”
“Your parents. Did they respect your interest in science?”
“They never really cared. No, that’s not quite right. They love me, I know that, and they cared—care. It’s just that they were always so wrapped up in each other and their private dramas that I just faded into the background and they never really noticed me.”
“I’m sorry,” Desi said softly.
“Sorry for what?”
“You deserve to be noticed.” In her mind’s eye she saw Seth at the reception, standing alone, quietly watching the people.
“I prefer not to be. Really. It was better that they left me alone. They were always so … volatile. I wasn’t. I never want that type of relationship. On again, off again. Loud fights, louder reconciliations. That’s why I want order. Some sense. I—” He stopped short and then mumbled, “Never mind.”
“Listen, let’s finish these burgers before they get cold,” she said with forced cheerfulness.
She wished Seth wouldn’t have stopped.
She suddenly remembered the science fair again. She’d watched as Seth got up to accept his award. Her secret girlhood crush and she’d found a way to help him. Her ecstatic feeling had threatened to overwhelm her.
He’d looked so good up there on the stage, waiting to accept his award, she could see his pleasure hidden beneath his serious exterior.
She thought of the man he’d grown into. Maybe his parents’ relationship explained a lot about Seth’s willingness to marry someone because she was comfortable.
Desi looked across the table and noticed a small drop of the burger’s special sauce on his chin. Without thinking, she reached across the table and wiped it off.
Seth moved back, as if she’d pinched him. “What are you doing?”
Desi let her hand fall back onto her lap. “You had sauce dripping down your chin.”
Seth took a napkin.
“I got it all,” she assured him.
“You got it all off me maybe, but your sandwich was apparently as drippy as mine.”
She reached for a napkin and wiped at her own face, but Seth stopped her. “Allow me.”
He reached over and wiped her face for her. It felt more like a caress. Like when he’d wiped the cake from her face at the wedding yesterday.
“Seth.” That’s all she could think to say, just his name. He’d confessed he’d thought about her. And right at this minute, she wanted to shout out her own confession as well—that she couldn’t get him out of her mind—but she couldn’t make the words come out.
Wouldn’t let them.
He sat back in his seat. “Maybe we should talk about this.”
“This?” she asked, her voice little more than a squeak.
“This. Whatever this attraction is that’s between us. In my experience—”
“Seth, I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to analyze it. I just want to—”
She didn’t know she was going to do it, until she did it. She leaned toward him and let herself go. His lips felt as if they were frozen, as if they were shocked by her forwardness, but then there was some kind of release, as if something had been released and he began kissing her back. More than that, he took over.
Hunger.
That’s what he felt like. A man who was hungry for what she could give him. The feeling was powerful. Desi was almost high with it.
He pulled her from her chair onto his lap. As his hand threaded through her hair, he groaned.
“I still think we should talk about this. I can’t seem to keep my hands off you.”
He might be analyzing again, but Desi was pleased to note he hadn’t released her. He wrapped her in his arms. She liked the way she felt, safe in his embrace.
“Listen, Seth, I think it’s obvious that there’s something between us and since we’re both consenting adults, there’s no reason we can’t …” she let the sentence trail off, suddenly not sure what to say.
“I don’t know why this keeps happening. I keep trying to figure it out, but end up simply chasing my thoughts in circles. We don’t have anything in common.”
He looked so cute when he was confused. Desi didn’t think he’d appreciate hearing it. “It’s not as if that hasn’t occurred to me as well. I want romance. I want the prince on his charger carrying me off to his castle—the whole package.”
“And I’m not romantic,” he said. “I don’t know how to be. I want logic and order. And this isn’t—”
“Maybe we could bypass the romance and forget about logic and—”
“But we should discuss this and weigh all the factors.” There was a small furrow in his brow, as if scrinching up his forehead would help him figure out the complexities of their mutual cases of lust.
Desi reached up and gently ran a finger through the furrow. “Seth, I have a confession, I don’t want to worry about our differences. I think we’ve proved we have one overwhelmingly big similarity. I want you so bad it hurts. I want all of you, now.”
Chapter Seven
It was as if Desi’s confession freed something in Seth.
“Me, too. I want you that bad.”
“Then what are we waiting for?”
“I can’t promise the things you said you wanted, but I promise I’ll try.” He promptly tried to scoop her into his arms. “You’re an awkward shape, you know.”
“Oh, no. You’re not going to start figuring out if I’m a rectangular solid or a sphere, are you?” She wasn’t sure he remembered that particular conversation in the car, but she did.
“I don’t need to calculate mass, in this case. I just need to find a better means of levering you up.”
“Seth, I can walk. You’re going to hurt something if you carry me.”
“You wanted romance and though I’m no Cyrano, I know carrying a woman into your room to make love is romantic.”
“Not if you’re going to break your back,” she pointed out. “I can walk.”
“Okay, so maybe cradling you and standing isn’t going to work. We’ll adapt.”
“Adapt?” she asked, not sure she liked the sounds of that.
“Yeah.” He stood up as well, and studied her, a crooked grin on his face. “I think I’ve got it.”
Without waiting for her to say anything, he bent and threw her body over his shoulder into a fireman’s hold.
“Seth, I don’t think this is what the romance novels mean when they say he carried her into his bedroom.”
“Ah, but as a scientist I’ve learned that there are frequently a multitude of solutions to any one problem.”
She was laughing as she thumped at his back and she was pretty sure he was as well, judging from the small shake of his shoulders. “Put me down.”
“No, I’m carrying you into my room and then … what’s the proper romantic word?”
Making love. That’s the phrase she wanted to blurt out, but instead, she kept her tone light and said, “Ravish. You’re going to ravish me.”
“Ravish. Oh, that sounds as if it has potential.” He paused mid-stairs. “Dingie, get out of the way.”
“Don’t you drop me,” Desi cried, unable to see where they were going. No, what she could see was a whole new perspective on Seth’s behind. Even from that angle, it was a fine looking backside.
Despite the fact they were laughing, her desire was as hot and heavy as before. Maybe even hotter.
She wanted this man. Wanted him more than anything.
She wanted to laugh with him. Wanted to tease him. She wanted to keep the world from hurting him.
She just wanted him.
They reached the top of the stairs, and Seth turned to the left. “Here we are.”
Desi was suddenly flipped back over his shoulder onto his bed. “Do you feel romanced?”
There was a smile on his face
that said he was joking, the sight caused her heart to constrict.
Seth Rutherford was about to make love to her, to ravish her, and he was joking.
Emotions that Desi was hard-pressed to identify seemed to squeeze all the oxygen from her body.
“Yes, that was plenty romantic enough,” she said, trying to keep her tone light.
“Good, because I don’t think I could have thought of much more to do than this …”
Desi woke before Seth the next morning. As far as she was concerned, this was the way to start a Monday. She was acutely aware of the heat of his body pressed against her nakedness. Skin to skin. They lay entwined, mingling until it was hard to know where Desi left off and Seth started.
She knew her hair must be a fright. Pieces were plastered across the front of her neck. And she didn’t even want to think about her breath. Morning breath was a given.
But instead of worrying, Desi chose to watch Seth. Asleep, his serious expression relaxed. A lock of his beach-blond hair lay across his forehead. She would have liked to move it, to push it back into place, but she didn’t want to wake him. So she just lay there, contentedly watching him.
Content.
That’s how she felt here, with Seth. Content. Satiated. Happy. Painfully, blissfully happy.
Gradually, he stirred, waking slowly, and she sensed when he became aware that he wasn’t alone.
His eyes bolted open and he stared at her.
“Umm,” was all he said.
It was a nervous sort of sound that people make when they want to fill up the quiet space, but couldn’t really think of anything worthwhile to fill it with.
“Now, that’s just what a woman wants to hear after she’s spent a night with a man. Umm. Of course, when it’s accompanied by that worried look you’re currently wearing, it’s even more flattering. Are you umming me because you’re not sure what to do with me? Were you hoping I’d left, so you didn’t have to deal with the messy morning-after-itis? Or did I maybe misinterpret your tone and was that a more sexual sort of umm?”
Teasing obviously wasn’t going to help ease the tension. He looked so unbelievably flustered and uncomfortable that Desi put aside her own worries of bedhead and morning breath and tried to think of something to do.
Before she could come up with a plan he said, “Desi, I’m not sure what happened. I mean …”
“Seth,” she said gently, “I’m sure with all those science classes you took and have taught, you had at least a smattering of biology.”
There, she’d done it. He smiled, and some of the worry dissipated.
“Yes. I think I understand that part.” He chuckled. A rich, low, rumbling sound that reverberated throughout Desi’s system.
“It’s the rest,” he said. “I mean, I told you Mary Kathryn and I never … I knew her for a long time and was planning to marry her. Yet, she never made me feel the kind of desperation I felt with you last night. Last night, I needed you so much.”
She was going to ignore the fact that he’d just brought up his ex-fiancée and concentrate on the fact he’d used the word desperation.
Desperation. That sounded good.
He was desperate for her? Oh, yeah, she liked the sound of that. She’d felt a bit of desperation herself last night. But unlike Seth, didn’t feel the need to analyze it this morning.
“And how about this morning?” she asked. “Any aches and pains you want to talk about?”
“I just didn’t want you to think I’d used you to satisfy some hormone-based lust. It was more than that. It was …”
He left the sentence hang a half beat too long.
Desi knew he didn’t have a clue what it was, and she wasn’t insulted, because neither did she. She could list all the reasons why things with Seth would never workout long term. He was on the rebound, they had nothing in common—except maybe this. She reached out and touched his chest.
No, she wasn’t about to spend the day trying to figure out whatever this was with him. She didn’t want to quantify it or label it. She had other plans.
“Seth, in those biology classes did anyone ever mention that females are known to experience a bit of lust too? Because, if not, let me guarantee you that they do and I did. I still do. So if there was using going on, it was both of us. A little mutual lust is a good thing, nothing to look so worried about. And if you’re willing, I was thinking that last night wasn’t enough … I’m not quite as satisfied as I thought. Maybe you’d consider doing some mutual lusting this morning?”
Suddenly all worry and confusion disappeared. In its place was a good dose of the lust they’d been discussing.
“Not quite satisfied?” Seth asked. “Well, we can’t have that, can we? I think I’m up for the job.”
“Hold that thought and give me two minutes,” Desi said. She might not be able to do much about the bedhead, but she refused to make love to Seth until she’d brushed her teeth.
She scampered out of bed and into his bathroom. She didn’t have a toothbrush, but rubbed his toothpaste around in her mouth with her index finger and tried to smooth down the worst of her hair.
He took a turn in the bathroom when she finished.
She was still trying to de-mess her hair when he came back and climbed into bed.
“You don’t have to do that,” he said.
“Do what?”
“Primp for me.” He pulled her into his arms. “Because, I have a confession.”
She snuggled closer. “Oh, do tell. I love knowing your deep, dark secrets.”
“This one’s not so deep and dark. You look lovely.”
Desi laughed. “I think you may need glasses, Seth.”
“Oh, no.” He traced the bridge of her nose with his finger, just a light, casual touch, but it was enough to make her heart rate accelerate. “Would you like a detailed account of your loveliness?”
“Pardon?”
“There you go, being all prim and proper again. I love when you say pardon like that.”
He ran his fingers through her hair, taking a section and letting it fall, strand by strand. “And I love the way your hair isn’t really just brown. Look. There’s light blonde and even a few reddish streaks in this. Variegated. That’s a good word for your hair. I love looking at it. Yesterday on the lake, when the sun hit it, I was mesmerized. And this morning, it’s even more captivating.”
His fingers still threaded in her hair, he continued, “And your eyes. They remind me of the lake. Sometimes they’re greyish and sometimes, like right now, they’re a greenish grey. Sometimes there’s even a touch of blue green.”
“Contacts. I wear those extended-wear contacts.”
“Sh. I’m working on collecting scientific data. Now, where was I? Oh, your chin.”
She touched her chin, but didn’t feel anything exceptional about it. “My chin?”
“Oh, yeah. I like your chin. It’s absolutely lovely. It’s got the smallest little line in it.”
“A cleft.” She’d never noticed a cleft in her chin.
“No, not really. Just a little line, a crease maybe is a better word. When you smile, it’s noticeable and I love seeing it.”
She’d never had anyone talk to her like this and felt a little flustered with it.
“Well, thank you,” she said to mask her feelings. “I think you’re learning this waxing poetic stuff at an accelerated rate. Want to hear what I like about you?”
“No, it’s still my turn,” he said and shook his hair. A small section spilled across his forehead. “You see, there’s more.”
Desi brushed his hair back and realized what he’d said. “More?”
“Well, I have to confess, there’s a lot more. Let’s see, I was on your chin. You know how I like to be orderly about things. We’ll just work sequentially our way down my list of things I like.”
He dropped her hair and gently caressed her neck. “I like your neck. It’s long, and elegant looking. Like a swan. And below your neck …”
&n
bsp; He wiggled his eyebrows and grinned.
A playful Seth was a sight to behold. Desi was enjoying every second. “Do tell, Mr. Rutherford.”
“Well, they’re a nicely matched pair.”
So saying, he leaned down and focused every bit of his considerable concentration on her breasts.
“Seth,” she said, her voice all hazy and breathy. Desi hardly recognized the sound of it.
This wasn’t some leftover girlhood infatuation. It wasn’t simply a hormonal attraction.
What was this man doing to her?
She wasn’t sure, but Desi was happy to let him do it some more.
She was going to try to capture and memorize each moment with Seth.
But even as she did, Desi had a feeling that remembering wasn’t going to be a problem at all.
Forgetting was.
Chapter Eight
“Did you ever imagine, all those years ago at the science fair, that we’d end up here?” Seth asked Monday afternoon.
Desi had never experienced anything like the last twenty-four hours. They’d finally left Seth’s bedroom and headed downstairs to get something to eat and rather than cooking, they’d ended up on his living room floor, caught in a need that showed no signs of dimming.
“No, in high school I don’t think I had enough imagination to envision something like this. Even last week, I couldn’t have imagined something like this. I can’t get enough of you.”
Desi lay in the middle of his floor, enveloped in his arms and felt, rather than heard, his chuckle. His chest sort of quivered. She loved making him laugh.
She remembered when she’d driven him home after his almost reception. There’d been no laughter then. He’d been hurt and confused. But now, this minute, she knew that he was happy and that she’d given him that.
She wanted to give him so much more.
“Listen to that,” she whispered.
“To what?”
“The rain tapping against the windows. I love the sound. It’s sort of the same feeling as a good snowstorm, when the entire world’s shut down and I’m safe and snug in my house, or in your house, as the case may be.”
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