Page 113 of Confessions

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Fires ignited deep in her most secret self, a warmth invaded her blood and a deep, dusky need controlled her.

He kissed her eyes, her lips, her neck, and when he came to the circle of bones at her throat, he pressed his tongue against her skin. A tremor swept through her and she felt heat rise in her blood.

His fingers scaled her ribs to feel the weight of her breast and she arched against him, filling his palm, wanting more. He yanked the T-shirt over her head, then, lying on his back, he drew her down to him, so that she was lying atop him as he took her into his mouth. Through the lace of her bra, he suckled, drawing on her nipple, pressing against the muscles of her back so that he could take more of her into his mouth.

Arching her neck, wanting to fill him with the love that was burning in her soul, she clung to his shoulders. She felt him pause to remove the scrap of cloth that restrained him and then his tongue and teeth and lips were kissing her, on her shoulders, between her breasts, on the flat wall of her abdomen and lower. He drew off her shorts, rimming her navel with his tongue as the fine mist of rain collected on her back.

“Love me, Carlie,” he whispered gruffly against her bare stomach and she writhed her answer against him.

She didn’t consider the consequences of the step they were about to take, didn’t think about how easily she would give him her virginity, nor did she doubt that the union of their bodies was anything but destiny.

Kissing him and feeling the wonder of his sinewy muscles, she stripped him of his shirt and soon they were naked in the darkness, protected by the trees, silently touching and kissing. Feverish, she pressed her tongue into his mouth, felt him stiffen as her hands played with his flat nipples.

There was no turning back. As thunder cracked and lightning sizzled in jagged streaks across the sky, Ben rolled her onto her back, gazed into her eyes and with the determination of a man whose sole purpose is to claim one very special woman, he entered her.

She let out a silent scream at the pain, but soon he was rocking over her, giving of himself only to take away, moving as surely as the sea flows to the sand and then retreats. The pain disappeared and her body swayed in a perfect rhythm with his and the blood in her veins ran hot

. With a moan she dug her fingers into his shoulders and danced with him. Ribbons of light fluttered behind her eyes and as lightning streaked the sky she bucked upward, her body convulsing as the ribbons shredded with an explosive wave of heat that flashed behind her eyes and sent her soul soaring to the heavens. Ben fell against her, his body slick with rain and sweat. “Carlie...beautiful, loving Carlie,” he cried, expelling ragged breaths against her neck.

Slowly she floated back to earth, still clinging to him as the wind and rain tore at their bodies. When he lifted his head, he smiled down at her and chuckled. Shoving an unruly lock of wet black hair from her cheek, he sighed loudly and shook his head. “You usually have all the answers. Now what’re we going to do?”

She giggled and wiped a drip of rain from the tip of his nose. With a gruff voice that she didn’t recognize as her own, she whispered, “Hey, soldier, what about an encore?”

* * *

THEY RAN TO the pickup. Their clothes were streaked with mud, their hair sopping wet, their spirits laughing upward to the dark clouds that had the nerve to block the moon.

Carlie cuddled close to Ben as he flipped on the radio and pulled out of the empty lot. Stephen Stills was singing “Love the One You’re With” as the windshield wipers slapped raindrops from the glass. Ben’s truck splashed through puddles on the road back to town and the sky was inky black. Only the occasional oncoming headlight flashed over the interior of the cab, giving Carlie a chance to stare at Ben’s handsome features. Would he really sign his life away and join the army, leaving Gold Creek forever? Her heart squeezed though she knew she was being foolish; she, too, was planning to shake the dust of this small town from her heels.

But now, after making love, after realizing what it was to give yourself to one person, she wondered if she would have the guts to leave. What if Ben didn’t go? What if he stayed here and worked for Thomas Fitzpatrick or Hayden Monroe, putting in hour after hour, shift after shift, day after day and year after tedious year?

Her throat tightened. She could never ask him to give up his dreams, to stay here forever.

So what if you get pregnant? her wayward mind nagged. She hadn’t planned on making love with him, nor had either of them taken precautions. Though she knew the chances of it happening were slim, there were people who conceived children the first time they made love.

Made love.

She bit her lip and wondered about a baby possibly growing inside her: Ben’s child. Oh, Lord. She was torn between being in awe of the miracle of life and knowing that neither she nor Ben were emotionally equipped to raise a child.

The truck sped along the road, toward the glow of lights that shimmered up against the heavy clouds, the town of Gold Creek. Hadn’t she sworn that she’d never live her life here, that she’d see the world before she settled down to raise a family, that she wouldn’t make the same mistakes her parents had? And yet, a part of her would give up all her glamorous plans for a future of adventure and fantasy if she could know that Ben Powell would love her forever.

They drove down Main Street and stopped at a red light. He glanced in her direction and must’ve read the confusion in her eyes. “Regrets?” he asked, touching her hand.

“None,” she assured him. “You?”

He laughed and kissed her cheek. “What do you think?”

The light changed and Ben crossed traffic just as the sound of sirens split the night.

Two police cars, lights flashing, sirens screaming gained on the old pickup.

“Great,” Ben said, pulling over, but the cruisers sped past, sirens wailing shrilly. “Accident,” Ben said and Carlie felt a cold drip of fear slide down her spine. She watched as the police cars rounded the corner of Main Street and Spruce. Ben stepped on the throttle. “That’s Kevin’s street,” he said with a shrug though his brows drew into a worried line.

Of course nothing was wrong with Kevin. Just because he lived on Spruce Street was no reason to believe the police were after him.

But Ben didn’t turn onto the side street leading to the Lakeview Apartments complex. Instead, as if drawn by some kind of morbid magnet, he turned onto Spruce and a ball of ice tightened in Carlie’s stomach. “What’re you— Oh, God!”

The cruisers were parked cockeyed in front of the house Kevin shared with a roommate. Colored lights strobed the sky. A fire truck and rescue van were already pulled into the driveway. Several firemen and police officers were scattered around the yard. Some talked into walkie-talkies, some huddled together, others were in the garage huddled around Kevin’s shiny Corvette.


Tags: Lisa Jackson Romance