She tried to remember a time she’d ever felt so much agitation at just the mere touch of a man, but she couldn’t think of a single moment. Only this man—only right now.
“I don’t live far away either,” she finally said, the silence too intimate. Should they exchange information? Was that what she wanted? Or what he wanted?
When he was silent for several moments, her brain spun. She began wondering if she was being a fool. This could be simply a case of a man trying to hook up at a wedding. It happened all the time, didn’t it? Did she really want to be that girl the guys laughed about in the morning?
She realized she didn’t actually care what gossip might spur from this.
Maybe she should be more worried. But how often in her life had she done something reckless? Not very often at all. What this man was stirring up inside of her she couldn’t understand and didn’t want to stop feeling.
“Where exactly are you from?” he asked.
The question helped slow her racing heart. “I’ve lived all over the world—in my youth, mostly third world kind of accommodations.”
That had the man silent for a moment. Then he raised an eyebrow in curiosity.
“You can’t just leave me like that. Go on,” he told her.
“My mom and dad were missionaries until I was about ten, then they worked modest jobs after that,” she began. “I was born in Portland, Oregon, but I lived abroad with my parents for half of my life, then in the Portland area after that. After I turned eighteen, I decided to move to Seattle.”
“Now you have me curious of all the places you’ve been.”
“Gosh, let me think,” she said. “Africa, South America, Asia for a short time, and a few more places.” Noticing she had his undivided attention bolstered her confidence and made her want to keep sharing. It was sort of nice.
“Of all the places you’ve lived, which one was your favorite?” His fingers were playing with her hair, making little flutters in her stomach.
“I can honestly say I’ve loved every place I’ve lived, save maybe a few apartments I’ve had in the city. But of all the places . . .” Stormy looked up at the starry sky to recall the fondness of a distant place in her memory. “I’d have to say it was Kosovo.”
“Kosovo? Where exactly is that? In the Mediterranean somewhere, right?”
“No, it’s not exactly in the Mediterranean, as it’s landlocked on all sides, but it’s right next door to Serbia, Montenegro, and Albania. It’s a fantastic place. Incredibly dangerous at the time, but it was cool,” she began. “I mean, one minute you’d be drinking Turkish coffee at a café and hear a car driving by playing Euro dance pop on the stereo, while the next car to pass would be blasting dance music in Arabic. The country was a collision of Western and Eastern European culture, with distinct flavors from Turkey and the Middle East. Being a Westerner, of course, gave me instant celebrity status, which as a preteen, I didn’t mind so much.”
“That’s always nice for a teen,” he said as he pulled her even closer. The thing was, for Stormy, it felt right. Somehow she was connecting more with this stranger than any other person she’d ever been with before. “What do you do, Cinderella?”
She smiled at the name. Hadn’t she been thinking about how this all felt like a dream, like she was going to disappear when the clock struck twelve? His words fit how she was feeling.
“My job isn’t interesting,” she hedged, and then she found herself playing with the locket hanging around her neck. “But I love to design jewelry,” she admitted while her cheeks flamed the tiniest bit. Why had she told him that?
His fingers clasped the locket she’d been clutching as he moved to study it. “This is beautiful,” he told her. “Did you make it?”
“Yes,” she shyly admitted.
“You have a real talent,” he told her, making her more nervous. Why did this man’s opinion matter at all? It shouldn’t. But somehow it did.
“It’s just a silly dream of mine. It can’t lead anywhere,” she told him with a laugh.
He let go of the locket and gripped her chin, forcing her to look at him. She was voiceless as his gaze held hers captive.
“Dreams are meant to become reality. Don’t ever think you can’t do something just because it’s difficult.”
She knew there was a story behind his words. She desperately wanted to know what that story was. “I think it’s time for you to share something about yourself.” she said, very aware of how close his lips were to hers.
“No. I think we’ve talked enough for now,” he said with a slow smile that melted her from the inside out.
Then she was moving. Effortlessly, he lifted her and sat her across his lap as he gazed down into her eyes. She was lost as his head slowly lowered, the moonlight glinting in his sparkling eyes.
“I’m going to kiss you,” he said, waiting only a moment to give her a chance to say no.
Maybe she should refuse. After all, she didn’t even know the guy’s name. But she didn’t want to refuse him or deny herself. She wanted to see if his kiss was going to be even better than his touch.
His head descended and then those exquisite lips of his were on hers, and she couldn’t think anymore. The kiss was better than she could have ever expected. Her mouth opened to his, and he was caressing her in a way no one had ever done before. She felt the gentle touch of his tongue trace the edges of her lips before surging forward and commanding her mouth.
Shivers traveled through her frame as she rubbed her body against this man, trying to relieve the ache she didn’t quite understand. When he pulled away, she leaned against him, not wanting the connection to end.
“My boat is right over there against the dock. Say the word and we can go and have . . . a drink or . . . something more.”
His fingers were lightly trailing up and down her back and his eyes shone down at her clearly, the full moon making it seem more like dusk instead of closer to midnight.
This is where she should tell him thank you, but no thank you. Instead she felt herself nodding as she looked up at him. “I’d like . . . a drink,” she said.
He hesitated a moment longer, and Stormy couldn’t read the look in his eyes. But right then, she knew that she didn’t want him to change his mind. Because if he continued walking her to the boat, she was going to do the first seriously reckless thing of her life—she was going to sleep with a stranger.
Then he smiled.
“Right this way.” He stood with her still in his arms, and then he let her go so that her feet touched the sand. She hadn’t realized she’d risen to her toes in an effort to taste even more of his kiss.
Excitement and a feeling of trepidation warred within her. But as her fingers remained tightly bound with his, the excitement won out. They made their way down a dock lined with several beautiful watercrafts. Her sexy mystery man led her to one of the boats and she stood before it and gasped.
“This is what you call a boat?” she asked, hesitating before stepping to the plank that led onto it.
“Yes.” He seemed confused.
She suddenly giggled. Who in the world was this man?
“This is bigger than my place,” she told him. If her night ended because he realized she wasn’t one of the rich and famous, then so be it. She could only fake so much about herself and being impressed with the giant yacht in front of her was out of her control.