Free Stardust Miracle by Edie Ramer Page A

so good. Their tongues met. And it was better and it was wonderful.
    She drew closer to him, her breasts flattening against his chest, as if she wanted to meld with him. Small lightning streaks bolted through her, and she wanted more. Her body heated. Hotter and hotter...
    Then he twisted away. His hands slid from her back and he gripped her upper arms.
    Caught in a hot daze, she tried to lean forward, but his hands grasped her harder. Holding her away from him.
    Her eyelids snapped up. His face looked changed. His color brighter. His eyes hotter. His breathing faster and harder.
    Her breath huffed out even as he shook his head. “We can’t do this.”
    “Why?” she asked in a breathy voice. 
    “For one thing, I don’t have a condom on me.”
    She opened her mouth to tell him it didn’t matter. That a barren woman probably wouldn’t need it anyway.
    That thought brought the old pain knifing back, cooling her faster than if someone threw ice water at her face.
    Her body went limp, and for a second only his grip on her arms kept her from sagging. Then she sucked in her breath and drew strength with the long inhale. She gave a twist to her shoulders and his grip eased. Still looking into her eyes, he released her.
    She smiled, even as she chided herself for being the same old people pleaser. But what was she supposed to do? Whip off her top and bra? Then say, “This is what you could’ve had, but you blew it.”
    Besides, she didn’t need a man’s help to take care of her sexual needs.
    “I got a little carried away,” she said.
    “A little carried away?” He looked down at his lap then into her eyes. “Nothing little here.”
    She laughed and it caught in her throat that was not quite ready for laughter. She put her hand to her forehead and it was warm. “You were right to pull away.”
    “I won’t take advantage of you.”
    “Don’t talk like that.” She shifted a few inches from him. How odd of him to phrase it that way. So old-fashioned. So…gallant. So not what she would’ve expected from him. “You weren’t the only one in that clinch. There were two of us. I was kissing just as much as you.”
    He didn’t reply, but his eyes darkened and his expression became hooded. She could’ve sworn she felt little testosterone pellets land on her face, her throat, stab her through her top. Slip into her partly open mouth, then slide smoothly down into her body that still simmered.
    She leaned toward him again. Caught herself and jerked back. Her face heated even more.
    Next time he came over, she needed to have a warning. She’d prepare ice shavings to slap on her face when needed.
    He stood and stepped away. “You filed for divorce today. You’re fragile right now.” He smiled and she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Back in high school, I noticed you.”
    “I know,” she whispered. Of course she’d known, but she’d never admitted it. She’d noticed him back then, too. She’d never told anyone. She hadn’t even written it in her diary.
    Now she let herself remember the colliding glances that left her breath stuck in her throat as she looked away. The way she pretended they never happened.
    She’d read about opposites attracting, and that’s what those longing looks were.
    Simple biology – her hormones on the hunt to find someone who didn’t belong in her pack. Someone different, who didn’t have a similar genetic make up. Someone who would give her a strong, healthy baby.
    And today, eighteen years since he first left Wisconsin, his body was doing the same thing.
    She guessed hers was having the same effect on him. She hoped it was.
    “You and I were like the sun and the moon coming together,” he said.
    “I’m pretty sure that’s not possible.”
    “That’s what I’m saying.”
    She pushed her hair back from her face. “It’s possible with us. Without any planetary explosions.”
    “I’ll come back.” His eyes glinted. “Next time I’ll be