The Right Choice(42)
Author: Carly Phillips

She raised herself upward and lifted her hips, lowering herself onto him in an excruciatingly drawn-out motion. The moment their bodies met, she uttered a soft moan. Her feminine noises coupled with her tempting heat had him gasping for breath.

She closed her eyes. He watched as myriad emotions shifted across her face. At that moment, he understood that he would never get enough of her, not ever.

With one smooth thrust, he entered her fully and filled her completely. Carly had never dreamed such a wash of emotions could accompany a physical act. Each time they came together was more explosive than the last.

She wondered if he felt it, too. She opened her eyes. As she gazed into the face she adored, she ran her fingers through his thick hair. In his golden eyes, she read every unspoken feeling she, herself, possessed. Words she’d never admit to aloud. He was right. She feared all they could have… feared having it and losing it at the same time.

This man reached inside her. He understood her without the need for words. He was her other half. And he would leave her soon. Because she loved him more than life itself, she would let him go. She pushed aside the doubt that assailed her, the niggling feeling that maybe they could work together toward a future.

Instead she draped herself across his chest, burying her face in the strong column of his neck. She wouldn’t let him see her cry. His slight growth of beard scraped the skin on her face. Cheek to cheek, she nestled closer. He smelled of the ocean and of Mike. With a cough, she managed to choke back a sob.

He began to move beneath her. Each upward thrust was an expression of love, one she felt in every part of her body. She matched his motions until their surroundings faded and only they remained.

As he shuddered beneath her, she held him close. She kissed him as her own world erupted in a too brief but brilliant mixture of passion and love.

* * *

Carly’s head rested on Mike’s chest. Her hair tickled his nose and each breath he took was scented with vanilla.

“Let’s go out for a late-night snack,” Mike suggested.

“Don’t you think we’re a little underdressed?” Carly asked wryly.

He glanced down and grimaced. Her dress was hiked to mid-thigh and her bare legs were entwined with his. He was stark naked. For the first time he realized how little thought he had given to Carly. He hadn’t bothered to undress her, let alone spared a moment to see if she’d been truly ready.

His only excuse was his driving need to block out her question. The time was fast approaching when he’d have to make a decision, whether his boss called or not. He couldn’t keep running. Unmet obligations awaited him and the longer he stayed here, the longer he allowed himself the luxury of being with Carly, the harder it was to go back.

“Mike, that was a joke. What’s wrong?” she asked, propping herself up on one elbow to look at him.

“Nothing.” Everything. “Let’s get out of here for a while. We’ve spent too much damn time in the house.”

“Cabin fever already?” She drew herself to a sitting position and smoothed her skirt over her thighs.

“Not at all. But I thought you might like to go out. Like a real couple.” A dangerous dream, he thought. One that had but a slight chance of coming true.

“Oh. Sure.” Her words were right, but they lacked feeling. She pushed her bangs off her forehead, a sure sign of trouble ahead.

He couldn’t pinpoint the source of her anxiety, but he sensed it anyway.

“If we’re going, I’d better shower.” Bracing her hands against the floor, she started to rise.

“Hold it.”

“What?”

“You tell me. One minute everything’s fine and the next you’ve turned back into the old compliant Carly. What’s bugging you?”

She turned, her normally expressive eyes blank. A haunted look shadowed her features. “Not a thing. Just tell me when you’re ready to go,” she said with patently false cheer and a forced smile.

Why did he suspect she was referring to a lot more than dinner?

TEN

Dinner was a strained event that Carly could have done without. Even the casual intimacy of the Mexican restaurant hadn’t relaxed the tension. After her initial hesitation, she no longer doubted Mike’s sincerity. She believed he genuinely wanted to spend an evening out rather than needing an escape from the restlessness she feared he’d begun to feel. But regardless of his reasons, she sensed their relationship inching toward its inevitable conclusion.

Though she understood Mike’s inability to stick around, and though she’d expected it, waves of panic rippled through her anyway.

She clutched her water glass in an effort to stop the trembling in her hands. Thoughts of their earlier lovemaking did nothing to soothe her. Each of them had been frantic, as if they’d sensed that this time might be the last. For all she knew, it might have been.

“Dessert?” His deep voice intruded on her unpleasant thoughts. He held out a large plastic menu.

Like a peace offering, she accepted it and vowed to appreciate whatever time they had left “After that vanilla shake you expect me to eat dessert?” She scanned the back page. “Fried ice cream sounds good,” she said to the waiter, and licked her lips in anticipation.

Mike’s burst of laughter broke the simmering tension that had surrounded them all evening. “I’m still hungry,” she admitted sheepishly.

“Guess you worked up an appetite.” His eyes gleamed with unchecked desire.

“Guess so.” She swallowed hard. “Which means I’ll just have to work it off later.”

He treated her to a sexy grin. “You bet you will.”

So she still had more time. How much? she wondered.

She felt like she was in possession of a time bomb, with the detonator ready to go off at any minute. Yes, she feared the moment in which he walked out of her life for good. But Mike was right. She also feared the consequences if they stayed together, feared he’d lose interest—or worse, that she would betray him. Although, looking at this man seated across from her, she doubted she’d ever be tempted to search elsewhere. What more could she possibly want?

So where did all her uncertainty leave her? she wondered. She glanced up. With a bowl of fried ice cream. The waiter cleared his throat and Carly moved her arm to make room for the luscious dessert. Caramel dripped over the sides. She cracked into the hard outer shell with a spoon, digging deep for the vanilla inside. Concentrating on her dish enabled her to escape reality and she took full advantage.