Free Broken Creek (The Creek #1) by Abbie St. Claire Page B

irradiating from his eyes. Pure hunger. He wanted me, I desired him, and nothing I tried kept me from craving him.
    But was it wrong to start something I couldn’t finish?

The bed kept me propped, but I didn’t need it for courage. My body was overheated and stinging with tantalized nerves as we stood by it and slowly undressed one another. Stephan didn’t rush me, if anything, I think I was the one that pushed things along in getting us both naked. My breaths were choppy and raspy with anticipation.
    His hands trembled as he trailed his fingertips up my arms. He nipped at my shoulder and trailed his tongue up my flesh to leave a teasing bite at my neck’s pulse-point. When his mouth made contact with mine, desire was all consuming. I bit and sucked his lower lip, remembering it was something he loved. Our tongues tangled, a familiar dance with a new twist.
    When we were both fully nude, he pulled back the bedding and laid me down slowly, my body weightless in the cloud of sexual euphoria.
    Our bodies entangled, we rolled back and forth kissing, touching and exploring in delicate moments of pleasure. He was drawing the night out slowly, taking every available second to new heights.
    When he was on top of me with his hands in my hair, I caught a glimpse of his eyes in the lamplight, asking the question, but he waited on me.
    “Make love to me.” My plea was quiet from a voice just above a whisper.
    His answer caught me by surprise. “Why?”
    “Because I want to remember how great we were together. Only the good times for a new year.”
    “But not because you love me?”
    “I’ll always love you.”
    He left me for a moment, returning with a condom. At first it seemed strange because I’d been on the pill since the first time we’d made love back in high school, but then I decided maybe he just wanted me to feel sure.
    When he first entered me, it was as if I’d never had a physical relationship before, but the initial discomfort gave way to beautiful pleasure. I loved the pressure of his body pushing me into the mattress. The predatory look in his eyes, the way he held my hand while he took me to new heights was animalistic and delicate in every way.
    Our night was a magical rekindling of something old and a discovering of much new.

    The first day of the new year, I woke in Stephan’s arms with a sense of happiness and encouragement I hadn’t known before. I was loved, and I truly felt it, but more than that, I knew my heart was safe with him. He would never hurt me again.
    I listened as the birds sang their song to each other and wondered if they were as happy as I was at that very moment.
    Stephan’s breathing was slow and rhythmic; I figured he was still asleep. Trying to be still, I looked around the room and saw a photo on the nightstand of his sister, Analina, and her husband, Eric. It had been years since I’d seen them. Stephan was three years older than me and Analina was five years older than him. I was curious if Eric was still in the Army and where they were living.
    “Morning, beautiful,” he mumbled against my neck.
    I rolled over to face him. “Hi.”
    His lips slowly descended to my neck. That was all it took for us to become consumed with desire again. After we’d made love, I raced him to the tub for the hot water.
    “Don’t you use all of it,” he teasingly threatened.
    “Then get in with me.”
    “I don’t do baths. Besides, even if that thing is oversized, I don’t fit. I tried once and liked to have killed myself getting out of it.”
    “Wish I’d been here to see it.” I caught the veil of instant sadness come over his face.
    “I do too.”
    Reluctantly, I didn’t fill the tub to the brim, so he could shower without having to wait on the tank to reheat. The glass door on the shower provided me a great view of him. His body was beautiful with olive-toned skin and nicely developed muscles. His mother had been Italian, and he got her skin, but he and his sister were both