Chapter Twenty-Seven
He closed the door, leaned back against it, and pulled her close. His mouth devoured hers as if he could not get enough.
She wanted his kisses, his arms around her, holding her against his strong body.
His kisses trailed across her cheek, down her jaw line to her sensitive neck. Chills ran through her.
“I promised myself I wouldn’t do this,” he whispered.
“What?” She didn’t want him to stop.
“Take advantage of you.”
“You aren’t,” she insisted. “I know what I’m doing.”
He stopped and looked into her eyes. There was a question, something he was trying to decide.
He swept her across the room, sat her on the bed, and sank down beside her. His arms engulfed her.
“I’m not the prize your mother wanted for you.”
“I never did anything to please her, anyway.”
His hand caressed her chin, pulling it up so their eyes met. “If it weren’t for the war, this uniform, you wouldn’t give me a second glance.”
“That’s not true.”
“Yes, it is.” His smile was dead serious.
“I saw you before. I wanted you then.” She hoped she didn’t sound desperate.
He smiled as he kissed her, pushing her down without leaving her mouth. Her hand ran through his hair as she held him close. The weight of his body pressed her into the mattress, his hand exploring.
“There’s no future, you know,” he whispered.
Was he trying to discourage her? “Don’t say that.”
He stopped. His gaze pinned her in place as surely as his arms held her. “I might not come back. Or I might be maimed, like your brother, or worse.”
“More reason to live now.” She didn’t want to think of anything but now.
“Don’t treat it lightly. You’re not that kind of girl.”
She tried to pull him closer, but he was too strong.
Tears welled in her eyes, and she fought desperately to stop them. She didn’t want to be protected, like some kind of untouchable doll sitting on a shelf. She wanted someone to love her, to want her.
He watched her intently. His thumb brushed away a traitorous tear.
She drew a ragged breath. “I’m not a child. I’m a grown woman. And I’ve been in love with you since the first time I saw you.”
“You didn’t know me.”
She shook her head. “But I did. I knew everything I needed to know.”
“Milt told me you were prone to fantasies.” His expression changed into something almost sinister. “I’m no fantasy. I’m actually a pretty sorry character. I like women, lots of women. But I’ve never been serious about any of them. And I don’t want to get serious now.” He pulled away and sat up. “I lured you here because I knew you were upset. That made you vulnerable to someone like me.”
“Maybe I wanted to be lured. Maybe I wanted to be comforted.” She was pleading but didn’t care. “Don’t pull away. Don’t leave me.”
He turned his back to her. “Don’t. You don’t know me.” She could hear bitterness, and regret.
“Then let me get to know you.”
He sighed, turned back to her, and a hint of a smile crept onto his handsome face. “All right.” He faced her but pushed further away. He scooted to the edge of the bed as if ready to run. “I’m the son of a bum and a floozy. My father got himself killed stealing and my mother…she went from one man to another, drinking, partying…” He looked away.
“You are not your parents.”
“No? Then why do I drift from place to place, try anything, dangerous, crazy. You name it.” He paused. “Why didn’t I do like my grandparents wanted? Go to school. Make something of myself.”
“You still can.”
His laugh was sarcastic and bitter. “Sure. Sure.” He got up and walked across the room running his hand through his hair. Then he turned to face her. “Don’t you get it? I’m a dead man. There’s no way I’m going to make six more missions. Nobody’s done it.” He jerked away to face the tiny window. “I’ve watched them go down, waiting for my turn. Waiting for the flack or the fighter or the midair collision. The ball of fire. Or falling through the air, helplessly waiting to crash into the ground.” His voice died down, from the weight of the pain, the anguish.
She went to him, wrapped her arms around him, praying he wouldn’t push her away.
He didn’t. Instead he held her, gently stroking her back.
“You’re not alone anymore,” she whispered. “I’m with you. I’ll always be with you.”
****
For the first time in his life, he belonged. She gave him that. Gave him a sense of connection to another human being, like he mattered, like someone cared, really cared.
“Let me stay with you…for a while.”
She pulled back, just enough so she could look up at him, smiled and nodded.
Her soft warmth, her sweet, comforting soul melted his heart, dispelled his fear, gave him hope. Hope that maybe there could be a tomorrow. Or at least for today, hope that this beautiful woman could love him, really love him. Not like his mother, not like the others, so caught up in themselves they could care less what he needed.
Kitty was different. And she wanted to love him.
He thought of his grandmother, the strange woman he’d never understood, yet he’d always known she loved him, no matter what he did. Until now, he’d always thought that kind of love came only from old women, women who’d lived a long time and lost so much. He realized Kitty was that kind of woman. Strong, steady, unyielding. Yet she was also young and passionate.
She’d saved him once. Perhaps, now, they could save each other.
He leaned down and kissed her, gently at first, then deeper, more passionately. Her lips parted at his coaxing. He tentatively explored with his tongue until she opened to him, and he plundered her mouth with his.
The power of his desire for her shocked him. He wanted her, all of her. He wanted to show her, teach her, give her something she’d never forget. Something he’d never forget.
Her arms pulled him closer. He lifted her up and carried her back to the bed.
Neither wanted more talk. Instead they followed their instincts. Each explored the other, intoxicated by the physical presence of someone who cared.
He stopped thinking and just experienced this beautiful woman who wanted him, who loved him.
****
She awoke in a dream-like state, gradually realizing the warmth curled around her was Ted’s strong, masculine body. She lay still soaking up the sensations, imprinting them on her memory. The feel of his skin. The scent of his body. The quiet sound of his breathing. All too soon he stirred and started awake as if surprised to find her there.
“Good morning,” she whispered.
He rolled over and pawed at the nearby table for his wrist watch.
“What time is it?” he asked.
“Early. There’s barely any light in the sky.”
He settled back beside her. “Good. We don’t have to hurry.”
“I don’t want to leave.” The ache in her chest increased.
He slipped his arm around her and pulled her naked body against his. “I don’t either, but we have to.” His long fingers caressed her cheek, gently sliding down to lightly grasp her chin. He drew her face to his and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. “We have to go back to the real world.” His eyes reflected her own sadness as his fingers continued to caress her face.
She wrapped her arms around him. “We’ll see each other again…soon. Won’t we?”
“Sure. In a couple of weeks. Whenever we can both get away. We can meet here, in Norwich. It’s not far for you or for me.”
She nodded against his bare chest. “And we’ll write.”
“Yes. I’ll write you. I promise.” He pulled back, so he could look at her face. “But don’t expect too much. I’m not very good at writing letters.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Just warning you.” Laughter emerged from him so easily she found herself chuckling in response.
She poked his chest with her finger. “You’d better write me, mister. I don’t care if they are short little notes.”
“And you’d better write me long, long letters that I can read myself to sleep with.” He tweaked her nose.
She responded by tickling the spot on his ribs she’d found the night before. He grabbed her hands to stop her assault, then found her mouth with his. He pressed her against the bed and rolled on top of her. Their teasing quickly progressed to more sensual activities. Activities she’d learned to enjoy, to let herself go and experience this man…this man she trusted completely…this man she loved.