Free Making Sense by Serenity Woods Page A

write poems about them.” He tipped his head, and she shivered as the lightning lit his face briefly, showing it hard, intense.  
    “I don’t want any of that,” she said softly.
    He ignored her and carried on, his voice rough. “I don’t date, I don’t go out with girls more than once, I’m not interested in a relationship and I don’t call back the morning after.” He obviously wanted to sound gruff and irritated, but as she looked deeply into his eyes, she could see the hurt shimmering in their depths, the reflection of his past he couldn’t quite shake off. He was trying to protect himself. This kind, gentle man had been terribly hurt in the past. She wasn’t the only one in need of comfort.
    She licked her lips. “It sounds perfect.” She tucked her hands under her butt, which pushed up her breasts, the nipples standing out against the thin fabric of the rugby shirt. His gaze lowered to them, then returned to hers, half-amused, half-frustrated.
    She cleared her throat. “Nate, I’ve never had sex.” He looked startled, and she laughed. “I’m not saying I’m a virgin.” She made her voice low, sultry. “I’ve made love, gently, affectionately, in a monogamous, caring relationship.” Her gaze rested on his lips, remembering how he’d kissed her, sliding his tongue into her mouth. “But I’ve never had a one-night stand because I couldn’t keep my hands off the other person. I’ve never had sex , hot, fast and sweaty, where it’s all about physical need.”
    “I’ve had lots of that,” he said, amused. “Not so much of the other stuff.”
    “I know. Show me, Nate. Show me what it’s like.” She moistened her lips again.
    He frowned. “Don’t.” He seemed to be having trouble forming words.
    “I want you,” she said, staring up into his eyes. “I’ve wanted you since the first moment I saw you, after Ash’s show. I’ve already told you, I don’t want a relationship. I want to go around the world, work abroad—I’ve got plans.” She glanced down briefly. “Even though my parents keep trying to derail them.” She looked back up. “But that’s nothing to do with you. I want a distraction, something to take my mind off my miserable, dull life, something just for me, that I can daydream about when life gets hard. You think men are the only ones who can separate sex from love?”
    “No…” he said slowly.
    “I won’t call you, or tell anyone what’s happened, or demand to see you again. I just want to lose myself for a while.” She looked deep into his eyes. “In you.”
    He looked down, taking deep breaths, clearly struggling with his conscience. Her heart swelled. He was weakening. Clearing his throat, he said, “Honey…”
    “Don’t you want me, Nate?” She gave him a desperate look as he glanced at her. “Don’t you want to fuck me so hard it makes my teeth rattle?”
    He laughed at that, leaning forward until he rested his forehead against hers.
    “Kiss me,” she whispered. “You know it makes sense. And then you can decide what you want to do.”
    “Like I’m not already lost.” He lifted his head, and she met his gaze, heart thumping. He cupped her face with a hand. “Like I was ever going to be able to resist you.”
    Oh, thank God.  
    He brushed her lips with his thumb, and she parted them, taking his thumb into her mouth, sucking it. He watched her for about ten seconds, closing his eyes briefly as she swirled around the pad with her tongue, and then he slid his thumb out. Slowly, he took both her hands in his, lifted her arms and pinned her hands above her head on the glass.
    “Are you sure about this?” He moved closer, his lips hovering above hers.
    “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life.” She flexed her hands in his. Her heart pounded. The words were mostly true—she absolutely, desperately, wanted to have sex with him. But she had no idea what to expect.  
    “Are you sure you’re ready for it?” He brushed