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Tomorrow would happen tomorrow. They still had all of tonight.

Derek didn’t seem to be in a hurry, either. He took time to kiss her mouth, her temple, to bend and suckle her breasts, adoring her nipples, the tugs of his tongue and lips, the rasp of his stubble against her skin increasing the sensation and her arousal.

Out and back in, pushing to the hilt, moving his hips in a circle pressed tightly against her clitoris, then back out, and back in, a lovely, leisurely rhythm that kept her desire burning hot, but not yet desperate.

She explored the soft, thick texture of his hair, drew her fingers down the planes of his face, tasted and tested every angle and aspect of his mouth.

“I could get used to this,” he whispered. “I’d like to get used to this, Addie.”

No, no. Not now.

She could tell the truth, that she’d like to get used to this, too, but he might think that meant she’d decided to go with him, and she couldn’t tell him that.

So she pulled his mouth down passionately, kissed him as if it were the last time. He responded with equal passion, and that passion translated into the language of their bodies and made them move urgently against one another as if, again, it might be the very last time.

Addie went over first, holding Derek tight, arching back into the pillow, mouth open, holding stone-still through the rush of ecstasy, so he’d feel her contracting around him, so he’d know what he’d done for her.

He drew in a sharp breath, exhaled, oh, Addie, and plunged deep into her, hands dug in under her buttocks to merge them more closely. In and out only a few more times, then he stiffened, moaned low, and she felt him pulsing inside her, reveling in his climax with a rush of tenderness that nearly undid her.

They came down slowly. Instead of a flush of triumph, she felt a deep sadness, wrapped her arms around him and pressed her cheek against his, feeling his breath warm her shoulder.

One minutes, two minutes, she wasn’t sure how long they lay there until he lifted and met her eyes, his dark with sadness. “You’re not coming with me.”

Addie shook her head.

“Tell me why.”

“I can’t handle that much change, that much risk. I was going to. I’d gotten myself all excited, all ready. I was going to tell you tonight. You saw what it did to me.” She paused, determined not to cry. “I was a totally manic wreck. If it was the right thing to do, I’d be able to tell you my decision calmly. Instead I nearly fell apart.”

“I sensed that.” His eyes were full of pain, but also understanding, which made it even harder not to cry.

“I would love to find out what could be between us, Derek.” Her voice broke. “Maybe there’s another way. I mean...we can keep in touch. You could visit maybe, or I could.”

“Sure.” He kissed her gently, but she knew what he was thinking, because she was thinking the same thing. They might stay in touch, might retain some of the passion for a while, but without contact, without access to each other, there was nothing solid they could build. To get to know someone enough to maintain a relationship, to make any kind of commitment, there had to be something other than occasional passionate reunion  s. They could go on that way for years, in a limbo of impermanence.

Addie didn’t want that. She wanted a man she could get to know intimately over many, many months, his moods and his routines, to face trials and joys together, discover each other’s secrets and strengths, wonders and weaknesses. She couldn’t do that with a man half a world away.

Derek pulled carefully out of her, disposed of the condom in the room’s little bathroom and brought back glasses of water for each of them.

She watched him move, that glorious body, well-balanced and graceful, muscles flexing and contracting. He climbed back into bed and pulled her close. Addie sighed heavily. “I’m in total ridiculous denial how much this is going to hurt.”

He chuckled, that deep glorious sound that was going to tear her in half every time she remembered it for the next several weeks. Maybe months. “I think we both are.”

“But it’s time to put on my big-girl pants and deal with reality.” A tear slipped past her defenses.


Tags: Isabel Sharpe Billionaire Romance