Summer's Desire (37 page)

"Sunny—"

"Seth, let me help you with taking
care of our little family, okay? I know I can only help out in small ways right
now, but I want to do it. So please let me."

His face has filled with tenderness.
Again he leans in for a long, drugging kiss. Afterward he studies me with his impossibly
deep blue eyes and tells me, "All right, Sunny. If that's what you want,
then go for it. But promise to tell me if your job ever becomes too much; I
don't want you to neglect your school work."

"Oh for crying out loud, Seth,
teenagers all over the country hold part-time jobs and still do well in school!
Look no further than yourself if you really want proof of this."

He turns pensive. "Actually, I
didn't do well enough in school. Some of the college coaches who wanted me
suggested I should graduate early to join my new team for spring practice. But,
obviously, that fell through."

Oh, my God! "But Seth, if you had
graduated a semester early, you would have been long gone by the time I
returned to Rockford!"

He grins at my horror-struck expression.
"Exactly. Not too long ago, I was kinda beating myself up for skipping so
much school that I couldn't graduate early. Then you came back, and I called my
two missing credits a blessing. Funny, right?"

I glower at him. "Well, I wouldn't
call our near-miss at ever meeting again funny!"

His eyes darken with intent and he bends
down to me again. And proceeds to kiss me until I am so pliant that if he
weren't embracing me so tightly, I would probably slip from the counter and end
up a melted puddle on the floor.

"What days will you be
working?" he asks me hoarsely. His pulse is beating fast and powerful in his
neck, and I'm fascinated by it. I lean in, dart my tongue out, and lick the
silky skin over his pulse. He moans.

I croak out an answer: "I'm working
Mondays to Thursdays in the afternoon."

He lifts his head out of the reach of my
insatiable mouth. "Okay. We'll have to synchronize our schedules. I have track
Monday to Thursday, and work at Joe's each weekday afternoon except for
Wednesdays."

"And Saturdays too," I remind
him.

"Most of the time. On Wednesday
evenings I drive to Grand Rapids and meet up with my sparring partner."
His voice, gruff as sandpaper, makes me shiver.

Then I process what he's just told me
and the sensual haze clouding my mind lifts with a snap. "Sparring
partner?"

His expression becomes careful.
"Yes."

"And what does your 'sparring'
entail, exactly?"

"MMA, primarily."

I glare at him. "I don't speak 'me
he-man, me manly and fight; you woman, cook food'."

He smiles wickedly. "He-man, is it?
I doubt that food would be the he-man's first order of business." He
swipes a scorching look over me, and I blush engine-red. Oh God, it's too hot
in this room!

"MMA?" I clear my throat.
"In English, please?"

"Mixed Martial Arts, baby. I've
been practicing it as a hobby for four years, but I've only worked with Klaus
for the last two. He started out as my teacher, now we just meet once a week to
train together."

"And 'train', I suppose, is code
for 'kick the living shit out of each other'?"

He gives me an unrepentant grin.
"Something like that. Klaus and I are a good fit because we're evenly
matched, mostly, so we challenge each other. It keeps our skills sharp."

"Seth... I was meaning to ask
you..." I bite my lip.

His heated gaze instantly zeroes in on
my mouth, and predictably, his head starts to lower toward me.

I speak in a rush before he starts
kissing me again and I lose the capacity to string two coherent words together.
"I-want-you-to-teach-me-too-how-to-fight."

He arrests all movement. "What?!"

"You know. Just some moves, so that
I can..."

"Tell me." His voice is
inflectionless.

"Defend myself," I finish in a
husky murmur.

His jaw turns to granite, and that tiny facial
muscle above it starts to pulse angrily. He just looks at me for an inordinate
amount of time, his eyes dark and turbulent.

"I promise you," he says after
what feels like an eternity, "there's no reason for you to fear that Josh
could harm you again. Or for that matter, that anyone else will ever hurt you—I'll
finish off any bastard who even thinks of trying." His voice sends icy
chills down my spine.

My chin trembles and stupid tears fill
my eyes. "But I'll see Josh in school every day... and I feel
sick
at the thought. I just know that each time I'll remember how he grabbed me and
dragged me away, and then... He was so strong, Seth, and I was helpless against
him!" I hate that I'm crying again because of that scumbag, but I'm undone
with anger and fear. I sob, "I don't ever want to feel... like that again."

Seth steps forward into the space
between my thighs and his body melts around my own. His arms go around me,
strong and safe, and I curl into the haven of his body. His hold is so very
tight, almost too tight for me to breathe properly, but it feels so very good
that I don't care.

"Shh, Sunny, stop crying," he
murmurs above my ear. "You're okay, I'm with you, and I'll always protect
you."
Always?
Oh God, if only! I cry harder. "And I'll teach
you how to defend yourself if you want that. Please stop crying, baby."

His hoarse voice, filled with so much
sympathy and pure tenderness, overwhelms all my senses. I burrow deeper into
his warmth and accept the comforting balm of his presence and words. At one
point, I think he also says,
Don't be scared, Sunny, I'll make sure you won't
have to see that whoreson ever again
.

But I'm still battling my noisy sobs, so
I probably misheard him.

* * *

Two days later, I wake up to the touch
of Seth's lips on my neck, laying a trail of sweet, nibbling kisses, filling me
with languid warmth. He's on top of me, braced on his forearms, his muscular
frame pressing me into the soft mattress. I arch into him, rubbing against his
body.

It's sheer
heaven, sleeping and waking in his embrace, and he is my own personal angel. He
bites my neck lightly, and a frisson of sheer, undiluted
want
engulfs my
senses.

Okay, so maybe
he's my personal demon instead of an angel and here to tempt me into carnal
sin.
In which case I stand no chance to resist him
, I think with an
anticipatory smile.

I shift under him, and my mouth parts on
the skin of his chiseled chest. Then it journeys upward with teasing kisses
until it reaches his strong throat. At the base of his neck, my tongue darts
out, licking the delicious, slightly salty skin. The taste of him intoxicates
me like age-old liquor, and a feverish excitement takes me over. I start suckling
at his skin with boundless enthusiasm, and my breath accelerates with each pull
and lick.

His chest, plastered to my body, seems
to be laboring for breath as well, and his hand at my waist has slipped lower,
molding my bottom and pressing me against his arousal.

"You're trying to give me a love
bite?" His voice is so deep with need it's almost unrecognizable. "Want
to mark me as yours?"

Startled, I stop suckling. I move my head
slightly back, open my eyes, and true enough: I see a red hickey forming low on
his throat.

I blink, raise my eyes to him. "I'm
so sorry, Seth. I didn't realize what I was doing." I pause, mortified.
"I have some concealer, so I can probably cover it up for you."

Oh my God, I'm such a dork! Why did I do
that to him?!

He grins. "Nah, leave it. It's only
fair that I carry your brand. I also marked you." I stare at him stupidly
and his grin turns positively wicked. "Last night," he reminds me.

Okay... I gulp nervously. Last night was
wild
.

Sweet mercy, each time we make out it
just gets more and more intense! And it makes me crazier and crazier for him,
and I don't know how much longer I can take this without wanting more. Without
wanting everything.

His hand goes to my neck and pulls at
the high neckline of my T-shirt, probably searching for his handiwork. His eyes
flare possessively, having apparently found the love bite he gave me last
night. Lost in my own whirling thoughts, I hardly notice that he keeps playing
with my neckline, keeps pulling at it. But abruptly his hand arrests its
movement, and his face takes on a watchful look.

It takes me out of my distraction.

"What's wrong, Seth?"

His fingers slip below my T-shirt and
come back out holding a silver chain segment.

I close my eyes, feel my cheeks
reddening. He's found it.

I sense his fingers moving lower along
the chain, releasing it gradually from under my T-shirt until they reach the
heart medallion. My skin prickles with embarrassment. I keep my eyes closed,
but when the silence goes on for too long, curiosity makes me lift my eyelids.

He's smiling his blinding, special smile
down at me, his gaze jumping between my face and the heart necklace. My heart
gives a joyful leap in response. I love to see him happy even if I do know that
I'm in for some merciless teasing.

His smile dims slightly and he cocks his
head to the side. "How come you were hiding this from me?"

He sounds truly perplexed, and I shake
my head in exasperation. "Did you forget already how you used to tease me
for never taking off your necklace? I sure didn't! And I wasn't in the mood for
all the ribbing I'd get if you found out that I
still
wear your necklace."
I sigh, accepting my fate, and add in thanks for his earlier smile: "I've
never stopped wearing it, Seth, even after all these years."

His expression fills with tenderness.
"Forgive me, Sunny? I know I teased you a lot about this, but honestly...
I just wanted to deflect attention from myself."

"Uh... why?"

"So that you wouldn't think to ask
why I gave you a heart necklace, of all things."

My barely calmed heartbeats start to come
faster again. "Why did you give me a heart necklace, Seth?"

His eyes glow with possessive warmth. He
raises a hand to my cheek and cradles it carefully. "The medallion stood in
place for my heart."

Thrilled but bashful, I murmur, "So
you gave me your heart enchained?"

His beautiful lips curl into a crooked
grin.

"You were in love with me even
then?"

He nods.

An infinite glow breaks out inside me, melting
my bones, making my body flow into his. I smile at him weakly, then bury my
face in his neck. "I didn't know."

"It's okay, you were very young and
innocent." His voice is exquisitely affectionate.

Oh, Seth, if you love me this much,
please don't leave me behind! Please talk to me about the future. Please tell
me that you want me beyond the end of July.

I look up again. "I'm so sorry,
Seth, that we lost so many years when we could have been together."

His eyes turn hard. "We're together
now, that's all that matters." Then his gaze thaws again to liquid fire.
"Thank you, Sunny, for wearing my necklace all this time."

I grin. "You're very welcome,
lover."

"Now let's go get ready for school,
okay?"

"Okay."

* * *

Seth is walking me to my first class of
the day.

There's still a lot of staring and
whispering following in our wake... but it's getting less. Less frequent, less
obvious, less aggressive; just less. People have started to accept that Seth
and I are, for now at least, a couple (even if Dana did inform me, with a
huge—though not unsympathetic—smirk, that many are taking bets on how long
it'll be until Seth dumps me). But in the interim, everyone's starting to get
used to the sight of us walking together. God knows, they've been seeing it a
lot these last few days: except for when I'm in class, Seth doesn't leave my
side.

Also, I've become—to my great
annoyance—somewhat of a celebrity: "the girl who caught Seth Lewis".
In most everyone's eyes, I am, at this moment in time, the (undeserving) Princess
of Former Anonymity to Seth's (must be temporarily insane but nevertheless continues
to be the undisputed) King of Rockford High (as an aside: I nearly busted a gut
laughing when I heard that Seth had been
literally
crowned king—at this
year's Senior prom back in April).

And because I'm his girl, now everyone
knows
my
name. Everyone is curious about me. And an overwhelming amount
of people want to be my friend.

I don't take it personally, though. I
know all of it (or at least 99% of it) is fake, and I know that if Seth were to
turn his back on me tomorrow, I'd go back to obscurity in a flash. Most everyone
would forget that I was once accepted by—and part of—the popular crowd. Or
they'd do even worse.