Page 15 of Hayes

“No.”

“We’ll start over.” His tone was impeccable as he lifted her chin. “We never did that as a teen. The passion ignited between us so quickly that it swept us up and carried us along. We couldn’t control our desires for each other. We were young and had no idea what to do. This time, we will take our time, get to know each other.”

She actually stamped her foot in frustration and tried to ignore the hope flaring inside her chest. “You are not listening. Do you think that because you are Hayes Marsden, you get to do whatever you please? That my opinion does not count? I cannot be with you, and I would like you to respect that.”

His fingers tightened on her chin, and she felt a slither of alarm as she watched his face change.

She knew every nuance and had studied his handsome face until it was etched inside her brain. His eyes darkened, the emotions shifting subtly, and even before he bent his head toward hers, she knew what was coming and could not stop it. Her fingers tightened in the fabric of his shirt, her breath coming in rapid pants.

She knew she should stop him, stop this, but oh, she needed it. His breath stirred her lips, mingling with hers and causing a faintness that shimmered throughout her body. Her lips parted in expectation and anticipation, fingers curling tighter in the fabric of his shirt.

Twelve years vanished as if it had never been. The years, the anger, the pain, and the suffering dissipated into nothing when his lips touched hers.

The passion ignited, bursting into flames, and that was before his tongue plunged into her mouth. Someone moaned; they could not say which of them did as their mouths crushed each other’s, their bodies melting.

Hayes felt the fire uncoiling, burning a path through his body as the familiar sweetness of her mouth assailed his senses. Her breasts were pressed up against his chest, and he could feel himself hardening, his penis lengthening, his heart racing inside his chest.

With his tongue slowly stroking hers, he stirred the embers into flames that were soon eating away at them. Before long, the passion was driving them and whipping them into a frenzy that made the kisses of the past almost like a pale shadow!

He had to have more, he thought feverishly, hands roaming restlessly up and down her body. The need to feel her was so scorching; he felt as if he was being burned as if the fire was raining down on him.

Dragging his mouth from hers, he buried his face in her neck as he fought to control the madness that was taking over. Lifting his head, he stared at her hungrily, green eyes glowing as he took in the parted lips, swollen and moist from his ravishing kisses.

“I need you," he told her boldly.

“No.” Taking a deep breath, she started to push him away, but he would not budge; instead, his head swooped down, and he captured her lips again.

She put up a token resistance, but it was no use. As soon as his tongue met hers, she was lost. Her hands swept up and around his neck, her starved body pressed against his in complete surrender.

The second he felt her capitulation, Hayes took advantage, his hands moving toward her ribcage, feeling for her breasts. His touch through the fabric of the material sent heat straight to the core of her and had her moving even closer, her fingers digging into the nape of his neck.

The touch of her, the scent of her perfume was maddening and the need to feel her skin against his more than he could bear. But he was afraid to stop kissing her. The potent physical contact was the only thing keeping her here and he was not letting her go.

Sliding his hands from her neck, he shoved the shoulders of her peasant-style blouse down until he had left her upper body bare. His groan was stifled by her mouth as he unhooked the front clasp of her bra and dragged it down. His hands cupped her bare flesh, his knees weakening at the familiar feel of her flawless skin.

During their first encounter as lovers when they were just fifteen, she had been shy and uncertain about her voluptuous curves and had tried to hide to cover herself up from him.

“You are beautiful," he had told her with ragged sincerity and had meant every word of it. Now, feeling the generous breasts, the smooth nipples he had spent so many minutes giving special attention to he almost lost his mind.

He was about to end the kiss and insist on them going to the comfortable sofa when she started tugging at his shirt. Before he could help, she was dragging at the material hard enough to send buttons flying.

Her aggression and impatience had poignant memories swamping him. Lifting his head, he gazed at her in wonder, his heart hammering, the passion so vital, he had no idea what to say.

“I want to feel you," she whispered.

Swallowing the lump inside his throat, he shrugged out of the shirt and tugged the undershirt over his head, dropping it to the floor.

Camelia gazed at the smooth, muscular chest in wonder. There were many nights she dreamed about his golden skin, the feel of the muscles flexing beneath her touch as it was doing now.

Spreading her hands over the wide expanse of flesh, she lifted her head, her eyes meeting his as she continued to explore. Hayes stood absolutely still, hardly daring to breathe as her fingers moved slowly over his nipples. His eyes were stormy, his body aching, but he wanted to please her.

“I used to accuse you of being just a mindless jock," she whispered, feeling the flesh leap as she continued to stroke the tight bud.

“You said I was too pretty and too rich to have any brain cells rasped.

“You proved me wrong when we started studying together.” She would pretend that this was the past, and what had happened between then and now had never occurred. “You showed me up several times in French and History.”

“You were so damn competitive, it was exhausting.” Her hands were moving toward his belt, nails grazing his flat stomach, and he knew very soon he was going to have to end their journey.