“Hot mama. Take a look at that.” Jay craned his neck, his eyes following the blonde in tight jeans and low-cut top who undulated past their table and settled to lean against the bar counter.
John gritted his teeth. What the hell was wrong with Jay? The lucky son-of-a-bitch had a girlfriend to die for, but instead of counting his blessings, he chased after floozies who displayed their wares in public. Did more than chase, actually. John had it on good authority that with a few drinks inside him, Jay would stray into the bed of any willing female.
“Give it a break,” John muttered. “How can you lust after trash like that when Jane’s waiting for you at home? She looks like an angel, and she’s got class.”
“Class.” Jay took a swig from his bottle of Coors. “Class and a tight ass.”
“For God’s sake.” John glanced around. His shoulders relaxed at the sight of the empty tables around them. At least nobody could overhear. Admittedly, Jane possessed an aloof manner, but after having met her, John understood that her reserve stemmed from shyness.
“That’s the goddamn truth,” Jay grunted. “Jane might be pretty to look at, but she’s a lousy fuck.”
John took a deep breath. Easy now. Don’t blow up. He raised his bottle, focused on the golden liquid inside. “It takes two to tango.”
“I’m telling you, the woman’s as cold as a dead fish. Just lies there while I pump away. Never says a thing, never comes.” The words rasped out slurred, and John understood it was the beer talking. Sober, Jay would never reveal such embarrassing secrets.
“Maybe you don’t treat her right,” John said lightly. “Give her what it takes to make a woman come.”
Jay jolted up in the seat, a scowl darkening his face. “You telling me I don’t know how to fuck a woman?”
“You said it yourself. She never comes.” John scraped his fingernail over a lump of candle wax crusted to the tabletop. His body tensed as a bold plan formed in his mind. “I bet I could make her come.”
“What?” Jay’s angry grunt cut through the noise made by a group of steelworkers who burst in through the door, a wave of sweltering August heat trailing behind them. “Are you asking me to let you sleep with my girlfriend?”
Condensation gathered in cool droplets beneath John’s fingers as he tightened his grip around the beer bottle. “You know that car I’ve been restoring? The nineteen-sixty-seven Corvette.”
“Yeah.” Jay broke into a smile. “That’s one hell of a set of wheels.”
“I’ll bet you the car that I can make Jane come.”
“What?” Jay’s eyes narrowed in speculation. “If she just lies there, like she always does, I get to keep the car?”
John nodded. “That’s right.”
“And if she…?”
“If I make her come, you don’t get the car.”
“And I don’t have to give you anything else?”
“Hell.” John raised the beer to his lips, harnessing every ounce of control he could muster up to play it casual. “You don’t have to give me anything. You’ll have let me sleep with your girlfriend. That’s enough.”
A drunken leer twisted Jay’s mouth. “You’re on, buddy.” He rubbed his hands together. “I’m gonna enjoy driving that car.” His face furrowed. “Holy shit, how am I gonna get Jane to do it? She’s a prude. She’ll never agree to sleep with you.”
John leaned over the table and lowered his voice. “This is how we’ll do it.” He explained his plan, watching with distaste as Jay’s eyes glazed over with excitement. When they finished their conversation, Jay ambled out to the bar and propped himself next to the busty blonde.
John stared at him, thinking of Jane who waited alone at home. You bastard. She’s far too good for you. His eyes narrowed in disgust as they bored into Jay’s broad back.
* * * *
Jane cleared the dinner table and stacked the dirty dishes in the sink. Tears burned her eyes, but she blinked them away. Jay couldn’t be expected to remember her birthday. He had so much on his mind—the prospect of layoffs at the steelworks, the constant struggle to make ends meet.
She stole a glance at him, saw him yawning, his arms stretched high above his head. A lock of gleaming black hair fell into his eyes, and dark stubble shadowed his cheeks. In the beginning, she found him so handsome, had almost cried with gratitude when he asked her to move in after only a month of dating.
Jane hadn’t hesitated to agree. She would have done anything to get away from the prying eyes of her stepfather, and the whining self-pity of her mother, who panicked about aging and losing her looks.
Her feelings for Jay didn’t really come into it. Safety mattered more, and love was a luxury she couldn’t afford. Maybe Jay had turned out to be a little crude, and occasionally unkind, and she had an inkling of his infidelities. Once she found a job that paid more than waiting tables in the diner near the steelworks, she’d get her own place. Then she would never again need to fear a man’s ugly moods.
“Ready for bed?” Jay asked.
Jane bit her lip. When she first moved in with him, her mind had been filled with innocent dreams about sex, but the truth had turned out nothing like her fantasies. Clumsy grabbing and endless discomfort when Jay heaved on top of her, pounding in and out of her. Never a pretty word, never a gentle touch. No giving. Only taking.
She turned her back and wiped away a tear as she hurried into the bedroom. Life wasn’t a bowl of cherries. No one promised her a rose garden. She went through every pep-talk phrase she could think of, but nothing eased her heartache.
“I thought we might spice things up a bit tonight,” Jay said as he strode in after her, brandishing what looked like strips of fabric torn from a white cotton sheet. The eagle tattooed on his bicep flexed its wings when he raised his hand, clenched into a fist around the strands of cloth.
Fear radiated from Jane’s stomach all the way to the tips of her limbs. “What do you mean?” she whispered.
“Just a little experiment.” He cornered her at the foot the bed. “Take your clothes off.”
Her hands shook as she edged away and hurriedly stripped out of her worn jersey dress and undergarments. Jay didn’t like her to wear anything in bed, so he could get inside her quickly when the lust hit him. Open access pussy. Those were his words, and they made her cringe with shame.
Soon she’d have enough money to move away.
“Lie on your back on the bed and spread your legs,” he ordered, his voice a rough command.
The fear inside her expanded to press against her chest as Jay tied her ankles and wrists to the bedposts, testing each restraint after he had fashioned the knots that locked her into place. She followed his movements with fearful eyes, searching for clues about his intentions in his demeanor. Cruelty had not featured in their life together so far, but she realized how little she knew about him.
“And now the blindfold.” Jay crouched over her, the stale odor of his workday sweat filling her nostrils. The world around her disappeared into darkness.
“Why are you doing this?” She wriggled along the bed, trying to get away from his touch as he tested the band of fabric that covered her eyes.
“So that you don’t know where I’ll touch you next. Maybe this will finally turn you on, and we can have proper sex.”
Shame burned her cheeks, but not being able to see him eased her discomfort. She knew she didn’t satisfy his needs. The first few nights, she’d cried herself to sleep, thinking there should be more to the physical union, even without love. There ought to be pleasure shared between a man and a woman, rather than the dull ache between her legs, and an odd sense of incompletion that churned inside her, after he had pulled out of her and rolled over to sleep.
“I’ll just go to the bathroom,’ he told her. ‘When I come back, I won’t talk. That way, you won’t know where I am, and how I’m going to touch you next.”
“You’re not going to hurt me, are you?”
“Of course not,” Jay said with a nervous laugh. “I’ll be back in a moment.”
Jane inhaled deep breaths. Keep calm. It will be over soon. It never lasts more than a few minutes. She would imagine something else. She centered her thoughts on that friend of Jay’s, what was his name? John? He always ate lunch at the diner after an early shift at the steelworks. Sometimes he exchanged a few friendly words with her. With his sandy hair and blue-grey eyes he looked homely, but his clothes were always neat, and his broad shoulders and quiet air made her feel safe.
Once he had lingered and joked with her. His easy manner had drawn her in, making her forget her worries, laugh with him. She still remembered how he had reacted then, admiration filling his eyes as her face lit up with joy.
She had a pretty smile. Her stepfather had told her often enough.
The door creaked, and Jane heard the thud of approaching footsteps. Relax. Breathe. She concentrated on keeping her body languid. Not moving at all usually eased the discomfort of the harsh penetration into her unprepared body.
A realization that the air conditioning unit in the window had stopped humming made her pay attention to the sweltering evening, and suddenly the feeling of heat intensified along her right arm. A trail of work-roughened fingertips traveled over the sensitive skin, leaving a shiver in its wake.
Jane tensed on the bed and emitted a startled gasp. “Hush,” she heard him say in a husky murmur. The sound filled her with a strange yearning. She fell back on the mattress and turned her head, as if seeking to see him. The roaming fingertips found her calf, lingered on the delicate taper down to her ankle, then swept all the way up, along the outside of her leg, to the dip at her waist, and back to her leg again.
Inside her, a tension began to simmer as he touched her, discovering places on her body where she hadn’t known nerve endings existed, connected to whatever part of her brain that sent ripples of pleasure through her, making her heart pound with a ferocity only known before in fear.
But this wasn’t fear. This was…she didn’t know what.
“Please,” she murmured. “What is this? Why are you doing this?”
“Hush,” he told her in that same hoarse whisper. It rendered his voice so muffled it could have belonged to anyone. “Tonight is for you,’ he said. ‘I want to give you pleasure. Tell me what you want, how you like to be touched.”
Happiness rushed through her on a wave that stole her breath. He hadn’t forgotten. “My birthday.” She knew that a smile brightened her face beneath the blindfold. “This is my birthday treat, right?”
“Right,” he whispered. “Happy birthday, Jane.”
“Kiss me.”
The mattress sank beneath his weight as he climbed up and leaned over her. His mouth brushed hers, light and warm, like a touch of sunlight bathing her.
“Hmmm.” With a moan of pleasure, she strained against the ties on her arms, longing to run her hands down his back and cling to him. Never before had he shown any tenderness to her, made her feel loved and cherished
He lowered his body over hers, his weight caging her against the mattress. His mouth roamed against hers, demanding, conquering. His tongue swept inside to tangle with hers, and instead of recoiling from the invasion, she welcomed it, met the force of his hunger with her own. A whimper rose in her throat as his hands curled around her face and held her still, so he could drink his fill of her.
“Jane, Jane,” he murmured, “I’ve wanted this so much. I’ve been aching to make you mine since the first time I saw you.”
She discarded the confused thought that he had taken her whenever he felt like it, carelessly and without concern for her comfort or pleasure. Please God, let him have changed. Don’t let this just be one night for my birthday. Make him see how much better it can be if he shows a little tenderness.
Straining against the bed, she lifted her shoulders to crush her mouth against his, but with a sudden jerk he pulled away from her. She could hear the harsh breaths that heaved in and out of his lungs as he rolled aside and broke the contact between their bodies. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I wanted to take it slowly.”
A clean scent of soap lingered in the air between them, and like a thunderbolt, doubt speared through Jane. Jay had reeked of sweat when he tied her to the bed. Jay was never concerned for her pleasure. He didn’t bother to touch her, or kiss her, but this man did…
Perhaps…could it be…someone else? The quiet smile of John rose in her mind. She recalled his clean scrubbed appearance, how she had once noticed the scent of sandalwood soap around him when he leaned closer to give his order during the noisy evening rush.
She didn’t care. If it was someone other than Jay, she would accept her birthday treat and treasure it for the rest of her life.
Jane reached out to touch the man beside her on the bed, to make sure he remained with her, but the restraint yanked back her hand. “Don’t go away,” she said in a whispered plea. “Please, don’t leave.”
“No.” With that single word of promise, his fingers resumed their wandering path, from her tied wrists all the way down her arms, along her sides to her waist and below, ending up at her imprisoned ankles. He caressed each side in turn, over and over again. Only when she trashed on the bed did he cease his leisurely stroking. His hand settled on her stomach, heavy and warm. He waited until she stilled. Then he set out exploring. He smoothed his palm up her stomach, halted between her breasts.
“Nooo,” she protested. “Don’t stop.”
“Do you want me?”
“Yesss.”
His fingers captured one peaked nipple, closed around it. Pleasure streaked through her. His hand moved away, but before she had a chance to complain, his mouth took its place, hot and hungry. His teeth tugged at the peak of her breast, making her mind splinter. Just when she thought she could bear it no more, his head lifted. His lips descended on her shoulder. Warm and moist, they followed the line of her collarbone, roamed up her neck to her ear, trailing hot kisses in their wake.
Sanity abandoned her. A constant keening sound whirled around her, rising and falling in tune with her ragged breathing, and she knew it originated from her, but she could no longer control her response to what he was doing to her.
“Again,” she demanded, rasping out the words. “Touch my breasts again.”
He formed a procession down with his kisses, until he caught the beaded bud of her breast, rolled it with his tongue, sucked it into his mouth, and then he repeated the action on the other side. After he had driven her to incoherent whimpering, he raised his head, blew a cool current of air on her skin before restoring his hand to rest on her stomach. This time he inched down instead of up. His fingers tangled with the curls at the apex of her thighs, playing with them, tugging and teasing.
Anticipation drove her crazy as she waited for him to reach for the heat that throbbed between her legs.
Finally, he edged down, and found the plump petals that held the keys to her core. Gently, he parted them, traced his fingers up and down the valleys on either side of the peak at the center.
Not a single coherent thought remained in her head. “Oh my God.” She repeated the words again and again on a breathless moan.
His fingertips followed the slippery folds to seek the opening of her passage, where they circled and probed at the entrance, until her hips rocked against his touch, demanding for more.
“Are you ready for me?” he asked.
“Yes. Please. Now.”
Although she couldn’t see him, she sensed the heat of his body poised above hers as he settled into place between her legs, spread wide by the strips of cloth tied to the bedposts. “I want to feel your weight,” she told him.
He lowered himself over her, taking care not to crush her. His mouth met hers in a hurried kiss. “I can’t wait. I want to make it hard and fast. Is that all right?”
“Yes!”
Contrary feelings rioted through her—the need to break free from the restraints, to fold her legs around his hips and cling to his shoulders fought with the excitement that coursed through her at the sensation of helplessness, the prospect of a complete possession. She was his, and for the first time since she had lost her virginity a few months ago, the physical union seemed as it should be.
A wave of pleasure washed over her as he entered her, stretching her, filling her. It felt as if there was much more of him than before, but Jane recognized it had to be because every cell in her body cried out for him, attuned to feeling his every move.
Fully embedded inside her, he paused to allow her time to adjust to him. Then he pulled out and thrust back inside. His chest pressed against her breasts. Another confused thought jumbled through her mind at the sensation of crisp hairs brushing her nipples. It had to be wrong. Jay’s chest was smooth, and she had never felt that lovely shimmering contact before.
She cast her concerns aside as a tide of sensation swept her along with the rhythm of advance and recoil that rocked her on the bed. Again and again he surged into her. A tension ratcheted inside her, like a coiled spring, tighter and tighter, close to snapping, but not quite ready to be broken. The feeling gathered power, and it scared her to think of what would happen if he found the key inside her to unlock the hurricane force.
The tension possessed her. Eyes tightly shut, she strained to meet him, fighting against the restraints, trying to get closer, become one as he forged a heavy beat that buried him to the hilt inside her.
Oh God, oh God. The release exploded through her, like a death and rebirth, an end and a beginning at the same time. A wild pleasure burst inside her, her body clenching and unclenching like a fist. Without thinking, she screamed out her surrender, sending an echo around the room.
Above her, he propped up on his arms, thrust one final time, and with a roar of ownership, he bowed over her, pulsed inside her. When he finally slumped on the bed, he burrowed down next to her.
If only she could cuddle close to him and shelter in his arms now. Hope fluttered to life in her heart. Everything else about the act had changed. Would the aftermath be different, too? Had they finally discovered the common ground that they had lacked before?
He leaned over her, pressed another trail of kisses along her throat. “Happy birthday, Jane,” he murmured. “I need to go to the bathroom. I’ll be back in a minute to untie you.”
She ached at the loss of his warmth, but consoled herself it was only for an instant, and surely from now on everything would be different between them.
It had to be. You couldn’t experience a miracle and remain untouched.
* * * *
Jane squinted against the light as the blindfold fell from her eyes. “That was…I can’t even begin to describe how it was.” She followed Jay with an eager look as he circled the bed, one by one releasing the knots that secured her limbs to the bedposts.
An odd sense of disappointment dampened her mood. It had been Jay after all. She cast aside her silly dreams of a loving stranger, and focused on the hope that his attitude toward her might have softened, grown more compassionate.
But a bitter scowl marred Jay’s face, making her flinch. The hard set of his shoulders spoke of anger, and he didn’t say anything to her.
“What is it?” Jane asked, fear stirring its sharp tentacles inside her. “Did I not please you? Did I do something wrong?”
“Shut up.” Jay tossed the strips of fabric to the floor and flopped on the bed. He pulled the sheet over him, discarding the blanket, and turned his back on her. “Put out the light and let me get some sleep.”
Tears welled up in her eyes as she reached over to the nightstand and flipped the switch to hide her hurt in the darkness. Her hands clenched into fists. She would not allow his surly mood to ruin the memory of the night. Whatever she had done wrong, she’d make him tell her. The thought of never again experiencing the ecstasy she had discovered tonight filled her with anguish.
* * * *
Jay flung his clothes haphazardly into a suitcase he’d slammed on the bed, barely avoiding bashing Jane with the lid as it sprung open. She blinked at him, looking disheveled. Her lips, still swollen from last night’s kisses, seemed to mock him, and her skin shone pale in the morning light.
He didn’t know where he was going, but he wouldn’t stay another second in this dump. “I’m out of here,” he grunted. “There’s a month’s rent owing. You can pay it and take over the lease, or you can split. I don’t care what you do.”
“But ….” Jane stared at him with her huge eyes, framed by the long sooty lashes he’d admired when he first met her. “You can’t go, not after last night.” Her words grated in his ears. “It was wonderful. It was the most beautiful thing in my whole life. I didn’t know making love could be like that.”
“Sex,” he corrected. “Screwing. That’s all it was. I don’t love you. Never did, and never will. You were convenient for a few months. Good cook, and a neat little housekeeper, but lousy in bed. I don’t have the time to teach you, and I don’t want to feed and house you. Find some other sucker to take care of you.”
Jane bolted to sit on the bed and pulled up the sheet to cover her nakedness. “You don’t take care of me,’ she protested. ‘I have a job. I pay for the groceries, and you pay the rent.”
“Whatever you say.” He slammed the lid on the suitcase. “I met this dynamite blonde last week at the Black Bear. She has a body made for sinning and an appetite to match. Why the hell would I want to stay here with you? No way, José. I’m gone.”
“But, Jay ….”
“Bye, Jane. If there’s any mail for me, leave it in the box downstairs.” He yanked up the suitcase and stormed out, the sharp teeth of failure and hatred tearing through his guts.
* * * *
Jane averted her face as Maggie studied her with a worried look. An angular woman in her fifties, with dyed jet-black hair, Maggie managed the diner where Jane worked. Childless and single, she considered mothering the waitresses the most important aspect of her job.
“You’ve lost weight,” Maggie commented. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” Jane said listlessly. “I’ve been working at the Black Bear in the evenings, and walking home because the last bus goes an hour before closing time.”
“You shouldn’t be walking home at midnight.”
“I can’t afford a car. I need to clear the back rent first. I took over the lease when Jay moved out two weeks ago.”
Maggie heaved out a sigh. “Find yourself a new feller. Don’t work yourself to the bone. You’re only young once.”
“I want to stand on my own two feet.” Jane clutched the dishcloth she had used to wipe the table. “I don’t want to cling to some man for support. I’ll never again date anyone just because they’re there, or because I’m lonely. I’ll only ever date a guy if really I like him, and respect him.”
“Good for you. Girl power,” shouted Sharon, a waitress who got pregnant at sixteen and reluctantly married the father. She preached the dangers of acquiring an unwanted husband at every opportunity.
Jane gave a tired shrug. Girl power. She didn’t give a damn about politics, or feminism. She just wanted to be treated right.
She passed the cloth once more over the tabletop and straightened as she heard someone calling her name. It was that friend of Jay’s. John. Although now that she thought about it, the two of them must have fallen out. She’d seen Jay at the Black Bear a couple of times. He carefully avoided her, wouldn’t even look in her direction. She hadn’t really paid attention, but on both nights when Jay had been there, he had ignored John, had not as much as stopped by him at the bar counter to stay hello.
“What can I get for you?” She came to a halt beside John’s table, pulled her pad out of her apron, and poised her pen above.
“Don’t you remember what I have?”
“Huh?” She frowned at him, distracted by the faint smell of sandalwood.
“I always have the same thing when I’m here for lunch.”
Her eyes lingered on him, noticed how his eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. There was something about him that sent a peculiar tingle down her spine. As if he knew her secrets, although she didn’t really have any. “Err…you have a burger with slaw and salad, well done.”
He nodded, looking pleased. Jane felt her lips tug into an unexpected smile. Like the sun breaking out between clouds after a storm. “Okay. A burger with slaw and salad, well done.” She scrawled the order on her pad and marched off to hand it into the kitchen, her steps suddenly much lighter than they had been before.
She couldn’t quite name it, but a new sensation flowed inside her. Optimism, she decided it was. A feeling that the world might not be such a terrible place after all.
* * * *
Jane began to notice John at the diner more and more often. He appeared at odd times, which didn’t tie into the pattern of shifts at the steelworks. She wondered if he came in on his days off, or at other times in addition to the end of his shift.
“Do you know that guy?” she whispered to Maggie one evening.
Maggie craned her neck in an obvious inspection, sending Jane into a fluster.
“He’s one of the foremen. Single. Good tipper.” Maggie pursed her mouth into a considering pout as she contemplated John. “Go for it, girl. He’s certainly the best catch around here.”
A blush heated Jane’s cheeks. “I’ve told you. I’m not after a meal ticket. From now on, it’s love or nothing for me.” She bent to extract a packet of paper napkins from beneath the counter, so she could hide her burning face. That night two months ago, when Jay had tied her to the bed, kept playing in her mind. Strange, but she had completely disassociated the memory from him. She imagined that she had made love to a stranger, and one day he would find her, claim her for his own.
“Excuse me?”
She jerked up at the sound of the voice. It appeared achingly familiar, but it must be because she’d been daydreaming of that night. As she saw John standing at the counter, her hands fumbled, and the packet of napkins tumbled down. They both reached to grab it at the same time, to keep it from toppling over the edge. Their fingers met. The coarse texture of his skin brushed against hers. The memory of another set of rough fingers touching her in intimate places surged through her.
Jay worked on a computer which controlled the production process. His hands were smooth. Jane swallowed her panic as the thought pierced her awareness. “What can I get you?” she asked, confusion clouding her mind.
“I was wondering if I could take you out to dinner one evening.”
“Tonight.” The word came out of her mouth, firm and decisive. A statement, not a question. Jane blinked as an odd sense of unreal enveloped her.
“Now?” John looked at her, his brows lifting.
“Yes. I finish in half an hour.” She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. What was wrong with her? Her mouth seemed to have spun out of control, leaping to make suggestions that her brain hadn’t even thought about.
“All right,” John said. “I’ll wait for you and drive you home. You normally take the bus, don’t you?”
She stared at him, then nodded, not making the obvious comment that he seemed to be aware of her habits.
While Jane finished her shift, the strange spell that had overcome her when she faced John across the counter gradually lifted. It was just a confusing coincidence. His voice, and the feel of his fingers against her skin, reminded her of that night. Big deal. Her imagination was working overtime.
She needed to calm down. He’d give her a ride home, and she’d play it casual, not make a fool of herself in front of him.
* * * *
“Nice car,” Jane remarked as John opened the passenger door for her.
He didn’t reply. He closed the door and circled the front, only speaking after he’d settled into the driver’s seat. “It’s a nineteen-sixty-seven Corvette. I spent two years restoring the engine and the bodywork.” He held his palms out. “That’s why my hands are so rough. If you wear gloves, you don’t feel the soul of the machine. You need to achieve that connection to do a proper job.”
Memories invaded Jane’s mind, but this time the faceless man touching her possessed John’s features. Why couldn’t she stop thinking about making love to him? Had she gone mad? After one single night of ecstasy, had she become so sex starved that she imagined every man as a potential bedmate?
She jolted back to reality as John turned the key in the ignition and the engine sparked to life. “I risked this car on a bet a couple of moths ago,” he confessed. “Could have lost it.”
She stared at him, incredulous. “You made a bet for the car? Are you crazy?”
“No.” He sent her a quick smile. His eyes turned a warm shade when he smiled, more blue than grey. Why on earth had she considered him plain? How come she’d never noticed the hair on his chest that peeked out from his open shirt collar, or the confident set of his broad shoulders, or the way his mouth curved a little in the left corner, making him look as if he was harboring a secret joke.
“It was quite simple, really.” He slanted another glance at her. “The other guy had something I wanted more than I want this car, so I took my chances. As it turned out, I won. I have the car, and the other thing I wanted. He pulled over at the side of the road, leaving the engine idling. He turned to her, his face serious. “I look after the things that are mine. That’s the best way to keep them forever.”
He leaned over to her, brushed a kiss along her jaw until his lips reached her ear. “Be warned. I intend to keep you forever,” he said in a husky whisper that sent a jolt of recognition through her. “And I promise that I’ll never forget your birthday.”
“It was you.” She jerked her head back and stared at him, the faint scent of sandalwood surrounding her. Heat flooded her as she remembered that night, knew that his lingering gaze promised many more such nights.
Happiness rushed like a storm through her, rising in her chest and bursting out on a bubbly laughter. The joy of homecoming filled her, the pleasure of knowing that she would always be safe, always be cherished.
How could she have ever thought that love was a luxury she couldn’t afford? Love was a necessity, the platform on which everything else rested. The scaffolding that propped people up through the trouble and turbulence of life.
“I think I love you, John,” she blurted out without thinking.
His eyes deepened to the color of cornflowers. “And I love you, Jane.”
Story Written by Romance Author Tatiana March
“TM Romance… Romance Around the World”
www.tatianamarch.com
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