Chapter 12: The Night Before

Donal put the phone face down on the table.

He didn't say anything.

He just reached across the table, and took the mug out of my hand, and set it aside.

"You should go home," he said. "It's two in the morning, and you've had a hell of a night."

"I know."

"I'm not going to be the kind of man who takes advantage of that."

"You're not."

"Nina."

"You said soon." I stood up, and the chair scraped. "It's soon."

His eyes went dark, all at once.

"I said I'd take my time."

"Then take it."

He was on his feet before I finished.

He backed me against the counter, the cool edge of it hard against my hips.

Then he kissed me the way he hadn't been able to on the porch.

There was no house full of neighbors this time, and no father twenty feet away.

This was slower, and much worse.

His mouth moved on mine like he had all night and meant to use it.

His hands went up under the hem of my dress, over my thighs, and gripped.

I made a sound I didn't recognize, and he swallowed it.

"Bedroom," he said against my jaw.

"You're limping."

"I'll limp faster."

I laughed into his shoulder.

He lifted me, bad knee and all, and set me on the edge of a bed with a gray blanket.

He knelt on the floor in front of me.

He took off my shoes one at a time, and set them side by side, and looked up.

"Tell me what you want," he said.

"You."

"That's not specific enough."

"Your mouth, your hands. All of you. Donal, please."

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