The Homecoming Page 51


He slid in right beside her, pulling her close. They were face-to-face, nose to nose, forehead to forehead. His hands ran up and down her back, over her hips. “Iris, you’re wearing fancy underwear,” he said.

“I always wear nice underwear. Sometimes downright slutty underwear...”

“I’m on board for some of that,” he said with a sigh. “Iris, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this, to feel you against me like this. Still and close.” Then he slid her panties down and unhooked her bra. “Hmm. This is even better,” he said, pulling her against him, feeling the length of her in his arms. “Please say you’re on the pill.”

“I am, but what about you?”

“Clean as a whistle, no danger. I have a condom if you’re concerned.”

“I can trust you?”

“Not only has it been a long time, I was screened recently. I’m disease-and virus-free. But beware, I could be potent as the devil.” He smiled against her lips. “I want you. I want to do things to you.”

Her hands were on the waist of his boxers. “In the family tartan?”

He let go of her just long enough to ditch the boxers. “You’re right. We don’t need anything between us.”

“If tomorrow comes and you’ve forgotten...”

“Honey, I lost more in that disaster than you did. Things would’ve been so different if I’d remembered. I don’t know how, but I know everything would’ve been different. Now, you have to do something for me, Iris. I need you to shut up for a while.” And with that he was hard on her mouth, crushing her against him. With a bent knee, he separated her legs and his fingers gently investigated her inner thighs, her lower belly, her soft butt, her damp center. Just as he began to probe a little bit, his lips dropped to her breast.

She moaned and arched slightly, wanting more of him. With his mouth on her sensitive ni**les and his fingers on her, in her, she was squirming with pleasure. His touch was so sweet, so powerful.

He moved slowly until he was over her and her knees were spread, his mouth on hers again, his kiss deepening and his tongue inside her mouth at the very moment he entered her. He lifted himself, looking into her eyes. “God,” he whispered. “Iris...”

Then his mouth was on hers again and he began to move inside her, slowly and deeply. She drifted away as she clutched at him—every nerve in her body was focused on their coupling and she rocked toward him just as he pushed harder into her. His mouth was everywhere—on hers, on her neck, on her br**sts, on her mouth again. She began to pant, she mewled in anticipation of the payoff. It didn’t take very long; she felt a molten heat gather in her core and then there was the beautiful clench and throb she’d been searching for. He pushed deeper and was still, holding her tight against him, mouth to mouth, pelvis to pelvis. He hummed softly as Iris saw stars.

Then she felt him pulse inside her just as he groaned deep in his throat.

It was a long time coming down from that. It seemed to last forever. And it was so good.

There they were together again, forehead to forehead, nose to nose, kisses coming softer and sweeter, panting a little and breathing each other’s warm breath. He held his weight off her while keeping them so close that not even a sigh could come between them. They were like that, still and quiet and close, for a long time.

“Iris, I love you,” he said.

“How do you know?” she asked in a whisper.

“I’ve known for a long time,” he said. He gently left her body, rolled onto his back beside her and pulled her into his arms so that her head rested on his shoulder. “I thought about the fact that I never forgave myself for hurting you years ago. I didn’t even know the extent of that hurt, yet I never got over it, either. Then, a couple of years ago I started letting people in the department know that I was looking for an assignment in Thunder Point. I told them it was my hometown, that I grew up here, that my parents lived here. I didn’t think it would help my case to tell them there was a girl in Thunder Point I couldn’t forget, but you were one of the reasons I wanted to be here. Right here where you are, where I’d see you every day so I could figure out how to have you in my life again.”

“What if I hated you?”

“In fact, I thought you did. I didn’t know you had a crush on me in high school—how would I know that? But that aside, you loved me once. I didn’t think you loved me the way I wanted, but what the hell, Iris—it was a place to start. Because I couldn’t forget you—you were always on my mind. I dreamed about you, for God’s sake!”

She pushed herself up to look into his eyes. “Yeah, about that...”

“The dreams. I dream about women from time to time—sometimes strangers, sometimes celebrities, sometimes random women I’d seen a time or two, but you were the only encore performer. I even had dreams that we had sex in the flower van. Maybe I remembered it in my sleep but not when I was conscious.” He smiled. “It was much better for me than it was for you.”

“That part of your memory is correct,” she said.

He growled in some shame but kissed her neck. “How did you ever manage to forgive me?”

“Reality eventually sank in. You’re not much of a drinker, Seth. At least you weren’t then. You were practically sleepwalking. And then you passed out. It was a crappy set of circumstances, but I don’t think I was wrong and I don’t think you were malicious. I think we were in different realities. I wonder what would have happened if I’d told you the very next day, the second I realized you didn’t remember.”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I’d like to think just knowing, we would have gotten together. But were we mature or intelligent enough for that? You had a crush—were you capable of dealing with a seventeen-year-old athlete so self-centered and arrogant the world revolved around me? That’s a big job for any girl. And I cared about you so much, but was I mature enough to know the responsibility of that? I don’t know, Iris. I know everything would’ve been different, but I don’t know in what ways.”

He rolled her over so he was looking down at her again. “I know that after all we’ve been through and after the years we’ve put in, we should know now. What do you think?”

“I think I love you,” she said. “I always loved you, but I think we would’ve screwed it up seventeen years ago. We might’ve ended up in the same place as now—making amends and promising to do better. Or we might’ve been estranged forever.”

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