Forgotten Sea

She closed her eyes, unable to bear the heat in his eyes, the excitement of his touch, any longer. His stubble rasped against her T-shirt. She felt his warm breath on the inside curve of her breast, and then his mouth replaced his fingers as he suckled her through the cloth.

She arched, clutching at his shoulders, his hair, careful 1 3

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of his head wound. The damp strands slipped like wet silk through her fingers. Pleasure flamed in the tips of her breasts, kindled like fire in her bel y at the tug of his mouth, hot, wet, insistent.

His arms came around her to bring her closer, one large hand sliding from the smal of her back to the swel of her bottom, down the back of her thigh and up again under the T-shirt. She sucked in her breath as his flesh met her naked flesh, as his warm, cal oused hand spanned her buttocks.

Her legs trembled.

He nuzzled the underside of her breast, biting softly.

Her eyes opened in alarm and delight. The fire inside her grew, licking between her legs.

Yet a smal , rational part of her mind floated apart like an observer in a corner of the room. She watched in the mirror as he widened his legs, drawing her in between them.

His towel parted. She felt the brush of his body hair on her thighs, the nudge of his erection, hot satin over stone.

She gasped as he leaned back, lying against the bed, taking her down with him. Her legs sprawled. Her hands scrambled for support. Motel bedspread, her mind observed. Not very sanitary. Maybe she should pul back the covers . . .

He adjusted her firmly against him, cupping, stroking, his erection lodged solidly against her bel y. Her brain shut off.

He brought her head down for another kiss, his mouth lush and wide, rubbing, searching. She was open to him, wet and open, her knees on the towel, her thighs straddling his hot flanks, he was there, thick and inescapable. He’s very large, her mind pointed out worriedly, but her body didn’t care, her body wanted his, wanted al the things he was doing to her with his hands, with his mouth.

Until he rol ed with her, pressing her back into the F o r g o t t e n s e a 1 3 7

mattress. She stiffened automatical y, her brain returning to her body with a whoosh.

She gritted her teeth, managing not to freak out at his weight heavy between her thighs. This is Iestyn, she reminded herself, focusing on his face. She wanted him, or she had until a moment ago. Just relax.

But she couldn’t relax. She couldn’t breathe. She wasn’t in control of him or her own body, and that scared her more than anything.

“I can’t do this,” she said tightly.

He kissed her neck. “Sure we can.”

“No, I can’t.” A trickle of panic traced down her spine.

She shoved at his shoulder. “Let me up.”

He rol ed instantly to one side. She bolted upright, sitting on the side of the bed, panting and humiliated.

“Sorry.” She couldn’t look at him. “I guess I overreacted again.”

“It’s okay,” he said, although she knew it wasn’t. “Want to tel me what’s going on?”

She snuck a look at him, lying propped on one elbow, his warm golden gaze fixed on her face. He was being nice.

Somehow that made her feel even worse. “It’s not you,” she felt compel ed to say. “It’s me.”

He laughed. “Kiss of death, honey. Right up there with, I hope we can stil be friends.”

She flushed. Smiled. “You must think I’m being stupid.”

“No.” His tone was thoughtful. Despite his laid-back pose, she got the impression he wasn’t real y relaxed at al .

Maybe the fact that he was stil ful y erect was a clue. “I think you’ve been hurt. Who hurt you, Lara?”

She shook her head. “It is important for you to be open about sex,” Miriam’s voice replayed in her mind, but the 1 3

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doctor wasn’t the one faced with explaining to another hot, nice, sexy guy how damaged she was.

“Axton?” Iestyn’s tone was grim.

She couldn’t let him think that. “No. Simon saved me.”

“When?”

She tugged her towel from under his hip and wrapped it around her. “It doesn’t matter. A long time ago.”