Free Songbird by Syrie James Page B

tenderly massaged her back before sliding around to brush the sides of her breasts.
    She tried to resist. She couldn’t. Melting against him, she lifted her arms to caress his neck, her fingertips lacing through the thick short waves of his hair. His mouth moved slowly, gently against hers, his kiss kindling a fire that burst into flame deep within her. His tongue circled hers, exploring, dipping deeper, deeper, as if searching for each hidden sweet taste.
    He turned, lowering her gently onto the sofa. His hand caressed first one soft breast and then the other through the thin fabric of her shirt and bra. A thousand tiny explosions coursed through her. Her entire body began to throb with sexual awareness, from her breasts, so full and aching, to an exquisite hot wetness between her thighs.
    A moan escaped her lips. He lowered his body on top of hers and recaptured her mouth in a deep burning kiss. She felt the evidence of his arousal, hard and insistent against her. It only intensified her desire. Make love to me, her body sang out at the same time as her mind shouted, No! With the last vestige of her self-control, she tore her mouth from his.
    “ Kyle, wait,” she gasped. “This is...it’s all happening so fast. I haven’t known you long enough. I—”
    “ I feel as if I’ve known you all my life,” he said huskily. His palm caressed her cheek, gently urging her to meet his warm gaze. This time there was another, more immediate meaning in the question he whispered feverishly in her ear.
    “ Do you want me to stay?”

Five

    “ N-no.” Desiree pulled herself out of his arms and jumped to her feet, her fingers trembling as they fumbled to straighten her T-shirt.
    Kyle sat up on the couch and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs, hands clasped together. For a while he stared at the plush area rug beneath his feet, taking slow, deep breaths, as if struggling to regain his composure. His words, when he spoke, sounded clipped, yet still congenial. “Do you mean no , you don’t want me to stay the weekend, or no, you don’t want me to spend the night?”
    Desiree turned toward the fireplace and stared at the dark, lifeless hearth, her fingers tightly interlaced to stop them from shaking: What was she doing? She’d wanted to go out with Kyle, there was no denying it, but she’d promised herself not to get involved with him. How could she have let things get so out of hand?
    “ No... to both questions,” she replied, her voice tremulous.
    His head whipped up. “What?”
    She faced him again. “There’s no need for you to change your plans to go back to Seattle. I’m really sorry, but…” She swallowed hard, forcing herself to continue. “I won’t be able to see you tomorrow.”
    His forehead furrowed in a puzzled frown. “Why not? Don’t you get off at six?”
    “ Yes. But I have to work late.”
    “ How late?”
    “ There are a bunch of commercials I have to produce. It might take hours. I have to put music behind them, do the vocals, cut them onto tape, record them on cart—”
    “ Cart?”
    “ Short for cartridge,” she explained impatiently. “I should have done it tonight, but—”
    “ Okay,” he conceded. “I get it. You’re busy tomorrow night. What about Saturday?”
    “ I have to work all day. All weekend, in fact.”
    “ All weekend?” He stared at her. “What kind of a schedule is that? You must get off sometime?”
    “ I just got this new shift,” she said evasively. “The schedule’s not final yet.”
    He stood up, shoved his hands in his pockets, the muscles in his forearms rigid and distended. “I see.”
    Guiltily, she lowered her gaze. Her hands wanted to touch his cheek, his neck, his arms. Her lips yearned for the feel of his mouth on hers again, the taste of his tongue encircling hers. But she knew if he took her in his arms again, if she gave herself up to the thrill of his tantalizing caresses, all her willpower would fly out the window. He’d