shift to look at her, and I mean really look at her. I try to see all the bad things she’s talking about. I’ll admit, she looks tired, but she still looks beautiful. She smells even better. Like her usual honey and floral scent. It’s her. It doesn’t matter how long she’s worked or what other smells have clung to her because I still smell her.
“I am looking. And want to know what I see?”
She tucks her legs into her chest, setting her cheek on top of them as she looks up at me.
“What do you see?”
“I see a gorgeous woman. I see a woman who I spent years overlooking and now? I’m taking in every piece of you like it’s going to be my first and last time because I refuse to make that mistake again.”
Her lips part in shock. Those beautiful doe eyes soften, and I can’t tell if it’s the gleam of the moonlight, but I swear her eyes start to water.
“Why couldn’t you do this six years ago?” she whispers, her voice trembling with emotion. I press my lips together, angry with myself for letting her slip through my fingers all those years ago. Unable to help myself, I stroke my thumb across the freckles on the bridge of her nose. I relish the way her skin feels beneath my flesh. She feels like mine.
“Because I was an idiot. But I’m here now.”
She sniffs, looking away from me. Her gaze is focused on the rippling water in the creek. She looks deep in thought. She always seems like she has a lot on her mind, but tonight is different. She seems different. As if she’s waging some internal battle.
“I need to tell you something,” she finally says after some time passes. “It’s something I should’ve told you a long time ago.” When she turns to look at me, I’m struck by just how beautiful she is. The way the moonlight gleams on her skin, like liquid pearl. She’s porcelain. Perfect in every way, and I want nothing more than to be careful with her.
Those frissons are back. That string is being tugged. And those magnets are being drawn together. It’s so forceful this time, and I have no way to stop it. My hand suddenly finds its way around the back of her neck and into her hair. She lets out a soft sound. It’s a cross between a whimper and a moan, and I realize then that I can’t hold back, not even if I tried. Tugging her mouth toward mine, I seal my lips over hers, falling into the kiss. Into her taste. She moans into my mouth, her hands coming up to my shoulders and gripping on for dear life. I work her bee-stung lips, getting lost in her sweet taste. I pause, though, when a flash hits me.
It’s a moment of déjà vu. More than just déjà vu. I’m kissing her in the dream. I’m tasting her. It feels like heaven, a familiar heaven I haven’t been able to fully forget. And how did I know she would taste like this? Like strawberries and cream. How did I know the exact way she’d feel in my arms? It’s almost as if I’ve done this before. Almost as though—
When my tongue strokes hers, I’m transported back in time, and the images that flash behind my closed lids send a chill down my spine.
What the…
Her hot little body beneath my hands.
The strong smell of grass and the ripples of the creek behind us.
The moon illuminating her beautiful face beneath me as she pants, tossing her head back.
Feeling her tight, wet heat around my cock. Feeling her nails dig into my skin, her soft pants in my ears.
My eyes fling open, and I jerk away from her. I try to process what my brain already knows. I try to rationalize and chalk it up to chemistry, but it’s not. My eyes grow wide, realization dawning on me. My imagination cannot be that vivid, and as I search her features, her soft hazel eyes that suddenly look guilty—the look on her face says it all.
We’ve done this before.
There’s no other explanation.
My eyes slam shut, and I try to rack my brain for answers. There has to be a logical explanation. Surely, if I’d slept with her, I’d remember in full detail, wouldn’t I? Why wouldn’t she tell me?
Ice spreads through my veins as I think about the dream. I focus on what I was wearing and