I don’t know what to do. He’s breathing hard. I feel the air moving in and out of his chest because my hand is there, right against his heart. He breathes against my palm like he’s running and I feel it coursing through me. The energy of him, the life. His eyes flash with fear and heat, with desire. He wants it, too. He’s scared, too.
I step forward and close the distance between us.
“Holly.” His breath brushes against my mouth and my knees buckle. He grabs my arms to steady me. And then to pull me in. So that my thighs press against his. So that I can feel his hips against mine. I shift into him, and he hisses out a breath, and then his hands are in my hair. He’s holding me right against his mouth and it’s hotter and more intimate than any kiss I’ve ever had. Except that he’s not kissing me, not yet. It’s like he’s waiting, for me to take that last step in.
And I do, God help me. It’s happening too fast, and everything in both of our lives is turning upside down, and this is the last thing in the world we should be doing. But I move in anyway, and touch my lips to his.
The sound he makes—
Jesus,
the sound he makes before he flips us around and presses me against the truck.
His hands grip the back of my head, sheltering it from the truck’s surface and at the same time pulling me deeper into the kiss. It’s like being dragged into a long, dark cave. Like being sucked under water. When his tongue trails hotly along my lower lip, I don’t know where I am.
A light wind drifts across our skin—a sharp coolness against burning, burning heat.
I press closer, and he shudders. Actually shudders, from the touch of my body. I feel its power suddenly—the way my breasts graze his chest when I move, the way that shatters his breathing.
It seems to galvanize him. His hands, suddenly, are moving. All over my body. He slides his palms up to my breasts and he’s not gentle. Thank God he’s not gentle. When he feels me arch toward him he bends his head and bites into my neck.
Jesus.
“Ray.”
He pulls back with effort, his hands fisting at his sides. He tries to look at me but can’t, and swipes his hand across his face instead. He drops to a crouch, and then down to his knees on the pavement.
“God almighty, Holly.”
I manage to sit down beside him. For several moments all we can do is try to catch our breath.
His eyes are closed, his hand covering his mouth. That soft, beautiful mouth. His strong hands.
He’s a chef. I never knew. I wonder what he’s like in the kitchen. What he’s like when he’s doing what he loves.
“Ray…Are you okay?”
“No.” He laughs abruptly, and risks a glance at me. “Are you?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know what just happened.”
He shifts a little to face me, displacing the gravel underneath his jeans. “Maybe we’ll wake up tomorrow and it’ll all be a dream.”
I gesture with my chin toward the truck “I don’t usually have those kinds of dreams.”
“No?” Ray’s eyes warm. “Me neither. Not like that.”
“I’m sorry, Ray. For…I don’t know. I don’t know what got into me.”
“Holly.” He holds out his hand. I hesitate briefly, and then take it. “Listen to me. Don’t be sorry. Okay? Please don’t be fucking sorry.”
I take a shaky breath. “Okay.”
“We should talk about this, about what just…”
“Yeah.”
He stands and starts to pace, back and forth along the bumper of his truck.
“And we…we also have to talk about what comes next.”
I rise, too, to face him. “What do you mean?”
“Just that, you know, we’ll have to claim the ticket. And there are options about how you take the money. Lump sum or monthly payments, how you split it when two people buy one ticket. You’ll have to…you know, think about what you want. How you want to do it.”
All at once something occurs to me, and I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before now. “Ray.” I can’t believe I’m such a
I step forward and close the distance between us.
“Holly.” His breath brushes against my mouth and my knees buckle. He grabs my arms to steady me. And then to pull me in. So that my thighs press against his. So that I can feel his hips against mine. I shift into him, and he hisses out a breath, and then his hands are in my hair. He’s holding me right against his mouth and it’s hotter and more intimate than any kiss I’ve ever had. Except that he’s not kissing me, not yet. It’s like he’s waiting, for me to take that last step in.
And I do, God help me. It’s happening too fast, and everything in both of our lives is turning upside down, and this is the last thing in the world we should be doing. But I move in anyway, and touch my lips to his.
The sound he makes—
Jesus,
the sound he makes before he flips us around and presses me against the truck.
His hands grip the back of my head, sheltering it from the truck’s surface and at the same time pulling me deeper into the kiss. It’s like being dragged into a long, dark cave. Like being sucked under water. When his tongue trails hotly along my lower lip, I don’t know where I am.
A light wind drifts across our skin—a sharp coolness against burning, burning heat.
I press closer, and he shudders. Actually shudders, from the touch of my body. I feel its power suddenly—the way my breasts graze his chest when I move, the way that shatters his breathing.
It seems to galvanize him. His hands, suddenly, are moving. All over my body. He slides his palms up to my breasts and he’s not gentle. Thank God he’s not gentle. When he feels me arch toward him he bends his head and bites into my neck.
Jesus.
“Ray.”
He pulls back with effort, his hands fisting at his sides. He tries to look at me but can’t, and swipes his hand across his face instead. He drops to a crouch, and then down to his knees on the pavement.
“God almighty, Holly.”
I manage to sit down beside him. For several moments all we can do is try to catch our breath.
His eyes are closed, his hand covering his mouth. That soft, beautiful mouth. His strong hands.
He’s a chef. I never knew. I wonder what he’s like in the kitchen. What he’s like when he’s doing what he loves.
“Ray…Are you okay?”
“No.” He laughs abruptly, and risks a glance at me. “Are you?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know what just happened.”
He shifts a little to face me, displacing the gravel underneath his jeans. “Maybe we’ll wake up tomorrow and it’ll all be a dream.”
I gesture with my chin toward the truck “I don’t usually have those kinds of dreams.”
“No?” Ray’s eyes warm. “Me neither. Not like that.”
“I’m sorry, Ray. For…I don’t know. I don’t know what got into me.”
“Holly.” He holds out his hand. I hesitate briefly, and then take it. “Listen to me. Don’t be sorry. Okay? Please don’t be fucking sorry.”
I take a shaky breath. “Okay.”
“We should talk about this, about what just…”
“Yeah.”
He stands and starts to pace, back and forth along the bumper of his truck.
“And we…we also have to talk about what comes next.”
I rise, too, to face him. “What do you mean?”
“Just that, you know, we’ll have to claim the ticket. And there are options about how you take the money. Lump sum or monthly payments, how you split it when two people buy one ticket. You’ll have to…you know, think about what you want. How you want to do it.”
All at once something occurs to me, and I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before now. “Ray.” I can’t believe I’m such a
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