Page 53 of Secondhand Secrets

His relentless kisses stole her every moan while his hands guided her movements, and she moved over him, slow and testing. The unhurried pace spoke of how he would return to his life in Boston. And she would do her best not to drop everything in Harlow just to chase him there.

A man is not a plan.

A man is not a plan.

She wouldn’t let go of her own dreams.

What if he was fast becoming one of her dreams?

A light snap at her back brought her mind to the bone-melting awareness of him unhooking her bra. His gaze claimed her now, and his fingers dug harder into her hips, his grip pushing her to a faster pace.

An avalanche of desire swept her over, and she indulged the all-consuming compulsion to move. They didn’t have forever, but they had now. And she had his unrepentant kiss and the hard lap of his tongue over hers.

There was more.

The soul-nourishing sense of belonging to someone. Not once doubting this man wanted her.

That he’d wanted her first.

“You’re killing me here.” Though he kept his eyes shut and tilted his chin back in clear pleasure, his strained tone pulled a sudden light chuckle from her that only lasted until he bucked against her.

“Oh”—she clenched at the renewed pressure, her voice weak, his move perhaps spurred by vengeance for what she did to him—“now you’re killing me.”

“I hope not.” His soft laugh washed over her, and his lips hit her shoulder. “This isn’t how anyone should find our bodies.”

Even as he released an effort-filled groan, she laughed back. “Or maybe it is?”

“I guess that’s one way to stay together.” His brow flexed as though he’d said too much. About what he wanted, what she wanted, but was too afraid to admit out loud.

As if to distract her, he flipped her under him, her previous laughter turning to a surprised squeal. Now, she lay on the couch, him knelt before her, the tables once again turned.

His hands grasped her waist and he plunged into her, movements demanding and desperate, each firm thrust forcing her arms to wrap around his back for purchase.

His exploding breaths matched hers, and her heart charged like a fierce bull, Chip being everything red and inciting. All that remained was her keening cry tearing from deep within, one that spelled out the rise of her peak.

His mouth found hers and swallowed the sound, claiming each wild and satisfied moan as his, not once stopping to grant her reprieve from the rush of light building behind her shuttered eyes.

Her heart nearly ripped in two, and her world turned all glittery-white and starry. She arched into him and found blissful release, his lips on hers as he did the same.

In time, she turned all pliable beneath him, and one by one, her senses returned. He rested his head at her neck, which offered the sumptuous soft brush of his hair on her cheek. Next came an awareness of this room’s pale light and the plush cushions beneath her back, a reminder of the spontaneity of this encounter.

But more than any of that came the crushing knowledge that something here had changed. She’d changed. She’d grown. She found what she’d been chasing all these years.

And what exactly had she learned from all of this?

That no amount of bargaining could undo the pain of knowing that true love really did exist.

Twenty-Six

Chip stood before the open kiln, his shirt still in his hand, and Ally perched on the couch’s edge, her phone pressed to her ear. The kiln stood shy of waist-height, the door opening more like a lid from the top up, the empty inside insulated with a wall of white, heat-resistant bricks. He squinted at the control panel and tried, but failed, to make sense of what each button did.

“Thanks Aggie.” He peered over to Ally with her lips dipped in a frown, although he tried not to smile because she wore no more than her short skirt and bra, his body thrumming at the sight of her and the knowledge of having just been inside her. “We’ll see you soon.”

She hung up, and he hurried to hide his staring, tugging his shirt on over his head before retrieving her shirt from the couch’s armrest and handing it to her. “Sounds like that went well.”

“Yah, Aggie’s on her way.” She took the shirt but didn’t rush to put it back on. “Thanks”

She tilted her chin up to him, and a quiet pause unfolded. Though he couldn’t say what went through her mind, all he could think about was the hard-to-define shift that seemed to have occurred. Like the connection here had deepened all while he braced for a greater than ever fall.

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