Elizabeth Bevarly - Write It Up!

For a long time, they only held each other, kissed each other, enjoyed each other, until Daniel couldn’t tolerate not knowing more of her. Slowly, tentatively, he pushed the hand on her hip higher, over her waist, along her rib cage, until he encountered the lower curve of her breast, cradling it in the deep V of his thumb and forefinger. Julia sighed at the contact but didn’t pull away. In fact, she leaned in closer, deepening their kiss. So Daniel inched his fingers higher, covering her breast completely with his hand.

The sound she uttered then was wholly erotic, sparking heat deep inside him where he’d never felt it before. She moved in his lap, her bottom rubbing against him, stirring his erection to completion in one swift maneuver. As he gently kneaded her breast, loving how it filled his palm so perfectly, he moved the hand on her back lower. He tugged at her shirt until it was free of her jeans, then dipped his fingers beneath it to open them again, this time over hot, naked skin.

Too much, too soon, he thought the moment their bare flesh made contact. It was a realization completely out of character for him. To Daniel, there was never enough when it came to sex, and it was never too soon to have it. So it was even more out of character when he, and not Julia, ended the kiss. But, suddenly, he jerked his mouth from hers, pulling back to look her squarely in the eye.

Gasping for breath and groping for coherent thought, he somehow managed to ask her, “What are you doing for breakfast tomorrow?”

She leaned in again, touching her forehead to his the way she had before, a gesture that was sweet and affectionate and should have had him running for his life in the opposite direction. Instead, it made him want to kiss her again.

“Daniel,” she said, pulling his name out on a long groan. “I know this is going to make me sound like a tease considering what we’re doing. But I don’t think I’m ready to—”

He moved his hand to cover her lips, halting her objection before she could utter it. “I’m not asking to spend the night,” he said.

And strangely, he realized that was true. Oh, all right, half true. If she had invited him into her bedroom right now, he would, without question, have followed her. But the knowledge that this evening wasn’t going to end in sex—and that he was the one who’d put a stop to things—didn’t bother him the way it should have. The way it would have, had Julia been anyone else. He was satisfied enough—for now—just to have been able to spend time with her. To have held her. Kissed her. Touched her bare flesh, if only for an instant. For some reason, he didn’t want to know any more than that tonight.

“I just meant,” he said, “if you’re not busy tomorrow, do you want to meet for breakfast somewhere?”

Did he only imagine the look of disappointment that clouded her features for a moment? he wondered. Must have, he quickly decided. Because she was the one who’d said she wasn’t ready to go any further. Even if Daniel was beginning to suspect the same was true of himself.

“I’d love to meet for breakfast,” she said. “Just tell me where and when to be there. But Daniel,” she added with a smile that was almost shy. “You don’t have to leave just yet, do you?”

He grinned, withdrew his hand from beneath her shirt and awkwardly tucked it back into her jeans. Then he wrapped his arms around her waist, kissed her once, twice, three times, four, and told her, “No. Of course not. We can still sit here and…chat…for a while.” Then he covered her mouth with his again.

And again. And again. And again…

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