At long last, I broke the kiss, feeling lightheaded and knowing I needed to sit down. I’d overexerted myself, between my excitement and the actual physical activity of dancing. I tried to hold steady on my feet as Dawson guided me back, but I practically fell into my chair.

 

“I’m worried about you, Mari,” he said, eyeing me carefully.

 

I shook my head in dismissal. “I’ve had a hard time eating for the past few days, so I’m weak. Once I get a good meal in me, I’ll be perfectly fine.”

 

“You still don’t know what made you sick?” He sounded suspicious, like he thought I was hiding something, and I forced myself to look him in the eyes.

 

With all the conviction I could manage, I told him, “I still think it was something I ate. I’ve had food poisoning before. It felt very much like that.”

 

He sighed. “I wish you had gone to the doctor.” I started to argue with him, but he held his hands up in surrender. “I’m not trying to start anything. I’ll let it go. I’m sorry.”

 

“No apologies tonight, Dawson.” I meant it, but I spoke softly, knowing that there were things we both wanted to apologize for but that it was too late. It was already in the past and couldn’t be changed. And we’d forgiven each other long ago.

 

The food came, and I ate like I hadn’t had a meal in weeks. Then again, I hadn’t eaten a full meal in what amounted to a week, so it wasn’t that far off. I felt like a stuffed pig by the time I shoved the last bite into my mouth, and I fell back against the chair, glad I could take the scarf off the dress and let it hang loose if my stomach bloated.

 

Dawson crossed his arms and chuckled. “I don’t suppose you have room to share a dessert.”

 

I groaned. “I wish I did! After that, I’m sure the desserts here are fantastic. Everything was delicious. It all tasted so fresh and wholesome.”

 

“I’m glad,” he said, leaning forward and reaching for my hands. He intertwined his fingers with mine and held on tightly, the two of us silently enjoying the mutual satisfaction of a good meal and companionship. “You think you could go for another dance?”

 

I thought about it. I felt so heavy with the food, but at least there was energy surging through my system with the warmth of my blood after fueling my body. And the two glasses of wine had relaxed me to the point that I didn’t care what anyone else thought of how I looked on the dance floor. “Sure, I can do that.” I was out of my chair this time before he could help me up, and we headed toward the middle of the dance floor with mutual enthusiasm. The song was faster, and so was the next, but I didn’t care, laughing with delight as he swung me around the floor to the beat. I was dizzy, but this time, it was from a heady pleasure and not from a lack of sustenance.

 

Dawson was going to lead me away after that, but the band transitioned into a ballad, and I grabbed him, drawing him back to me. He grinned, surprised and glad, and he pulled me into a tight embrace. We didn’t bother with steps, just swayed to the rhythm, and I leaned my head against his shoulder, letting the warmth of his arms infuse me with the strength I knew I was going to need after the night ended, as well as the love he offered.

 

I didn’t want the song to end, and I wasn’t sure I was ready to go home and face any kind of reality, no matter how much I wanted to crawl in bed with him. There was something magical about this bar he’d brought me to, and I could have been content to spend the rest of my life here, in his arms. But I finally let go, and he paid the bill. We strolled casually back to the car, in no real hurry. It was our night, with no interruptions, the way it should have been a week ago when everything went south.

 

“I have a request,” Dawson said as he turned toward the freeway entrance that would take us home. I tilted my head in question, and he hedged, “It has to do with the day I get out.” I swallowed and turned to look out the window. I couldn’t get emotional about the thought of him getting locked up. Taking a deep breath, I turned back to him and waited. “I want my first meal when I get out to be pancakes, preferably with you and my daughter. But I want my second meal to be there, at the bar.”

 

I forced a smile. “If I can make any of that happen for you, I give my word that I will.” Unfortunately, that was the best I could do. The future was so unclear right now that I couldn’t guarantee anything. Everything was conditional, and I didn’t know if I would be in a position to do what he asked. I didn’t know how long it would be before that day came, and I certainly didn’t know if he’d still want to be with me.

 

Another thought occurred to me, as well. What if Ginger resented us both for the situation? She was young, but she was very smart. I didn’t think she’d be nearly as upset with me, since I was the one who would be there to take care of her when Dawson couldn’t. But what if she was so angry with him for going away for so long that she didn’t want to go back to him when he came home? That thought would have crushed me if I’d dwelt on it for long. I turned my thoughts toward the present now instead, not letting myself get bogged down in ‘what ifs.’

 

The drive home wasn’t long, and I felt the anticipation building as we neared the houses, though there was an unusual nervousness building inside right along with it. I couldn’t understand that. It wasn’t like this was our first time together by any means. But that feeling made me tremble, and I grew shy as we turned into my driveway. He put the car in park but didn’t turn off the motor yet.

 

“Mari, if you’ve changed your mind and you don’t want to do this, I’ll understand.” He didn’t look at me as he said it, and I stared at him in shock, my heart beating wildly out of control.

 

“Why? Dawson, do you want to call it off?” It was the only reason I could think of for him to say something like that. I had given no sign of backing down and, usually, he seemed perfectly capable of noticing my sexual energy and playing off it. Unless he had doubts, I couldn’t see why he wouldn’t know that I was as eager as I’d ever been.

 

He took a deep, shuddering breath and said, “We’re supposed to be happy tonight and, so far, everything has been absolutely perfect. Now, I want you so bad I can’t promise to be gentle and slow and make it the type of experience worth remembering.” He still didn’t look at me, and my heart broke that he would think he could do anything to ruin it.

 

I rested my hand on his thigh, a silent plea for him to look at me, and when he did, I locked my eyes on his. “Dawson, we have never been the kind of couple that takes their dear, sweet time in bed. I don’t care if we have frenzied, desperate sex or if it’s over before it even starts. I just want to be with you, and when we’re done, I want to do whatever else we’re going to find to do together. I want to fall asleep with you and wake up next to you, and I want to soak up every minute of you I can get. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

 

His eyes were liquid orbs as he nodded, and the corners of his mouth twitched in the ghost of a smile. “I do.”

 

“Good.” I winked, trying to lighten the mood, and asked, “Your place or mine?”

 

I think he chose his place for several reasons. In all the time we’d been seeing each other, he’d fought the idea of moving in together, and it was because there was so much danger, so much to hide. Now, there was nothing I didn’t already know, and I’d already faced that threat head-on once. I’d come out of it alive and, for the most part, unscathed, and I could do it again if I had to.

 

But I also suspected he wanted to treat me to an occasion out of my own bed, knowing I wouldn’t be going anywhere for a very long time. A change of scenery did everyone some good, and I had to admit there was something about Dawson’s bedroom that filled me with confidence and sureness. Most of all, I knew he would miss his house. He wasn’t going to be here for more than a few days, and it could be years before he ever saw the place again. I would have to talk to him about whether he intended to sell it or needed upkeep on it, but that was not a discussion for this moment.

 

We didn’t bother stopping in the kitchen or the living room. We went straight to the bedroom, and he turned on the lights and dimmed them to a low, romantic glow. With the mood set, my eagerness grew, and just looking at him with the shadows and light playing over his face and the hard muscle of his body had me highly aroused. He tried to be tender, and he succeeded at first. He touched my cheek softly, and I leaned into his palm as his lips came down to stroke mine gently but enticingly.

 

I opened to him, and Dawson still managed to rein in his impulse for quick, frantic sex. His tongue danced as closely with mine as we’d danced before we left the bar, with the intimacy of no barriers in between. And as he taunted my mouth with the sensual kisses, he reached behind me to untie the scarf and draw the zipper of the dress down. With fingers shaking as he fought for control, he pulled the dress from my shoulders and slid it down my arms, over my hips, and down to the floor. He crouched in front of me, continuing his work by taking off my boots and then rolling the leggings off.

 

His extreme caution and attempt to make the night last tugged at my heartstrings, but more than anything, I wanted to get him as bare as I was now. I reached for the collar of his shirt and began unbuttoning it, all the way to the waistband of his jeans. He stood completely still, letting me work, and I saw him clench his fists to keep himself from brushing my hands aside so he could make faster work of it.

 

But when I released his cock, which had been straining hard inside those tight jeans, and I touched him with just the tips of my fingers, he roared and lost his cool. I rolled my eyes up to his face, watching his demeanor change and his eyes ignite an instant before he picked him up with rough hands and tossed me on the bed. I reached for him, but he rolled me to my stomach before his weight came down on me. He shoved a knee between my thighs, spreading my legs, and the pressure against my center made me pour as I gasped at the sensation of his lips searing the back of my neck.

 

I fisted my hands in the covers as his cock replaced his knee, stroking the wet lips with hard, long motions. It was a complete tease, and it worked, my whole body seizing with my first orgasm. I screamed out and shook with the weight of the wave crashing over me, and Dawson chose that moment to plow into me. I cried out again with a new explosion, and he thrust again, harder and more insistent. With each motion, he was deeper, and he filled me more fully. I arched my back, lifting my ass and hips off the bed, inviting more of him, and he grabbed my hips, angling them even higher and shoving more violently.

 

I gasped and tugged at the sheets, trying to gain some sanity and a moment to breathe, but Dawson didn’t let up, keeping my body quivering and my inner walls convulsing around him as he bruised and battered me in the most delicious way. I thought he was going to explode right then, but he pulled back, teasing me with just his head.

 

I whimpered, unable to find the words to ask him to give me more, and he chuckled maliciously, enjoying his torment of me. Just when I was sure I could take no more, he pulled out entirely and turned me onto my back so I could finally face him. Throwing my legs over his shoulders so my knees bent on them, he loomed over me and folded me practically in half as he pressed into me as far as he could go in one long, smooth thrust. I let out a low, keening moan as the pleasure rolling over me heated me to the point of burning, my skin hot to the touch.

 

Dawson was still for the space of a heartbeat, and I delighted in the feel of him buried inside for that short moment before he started to drill me in earnest. This angle changed everything, and he was so deep inside me I swore I could taste the tip of him in my throat, feel his length in my stomach. I nearly choked on the sensation, and my head fell back as I lost the strength to hold it up, the muscles in my neck going limp with all the rest.

 

I couldn’t see straight and couldn’t think at all, my body responding on instinct as my mind shut down completely, and in that moment, Dawson found his release, erupting brutally inside me and bringing me along with him for the ride. I flew with him, a body high that blanked out the world and brought nothing but insane, unrelenting pleasure. When the ride ended, it was a slow, floating descent to reality, and we landed together, both of us barely lucid.

 

I still couldn’t breathe, and it had nothing to do with all of Dawson’s weight being draped over my body. It was literally the exertion, the sweeping emotion, and the release that made my lungs burn and kept them from functioning properly. But at long last, I recovered, and Dawson seemed to sense it as he lifted his head and gazed into my eyes. I held my breath because there was one thing I wanted to hear from him, one thing I still wanted him to say.

 

I felt it welling up inside me, and I had said it so many times. But I wasn’t going to say it first this time. I knew he loved me. I could taste it in his kiss, feel it in his touch, see it in his eyes, and sense it in the way he made love to me. But he never said it. It was the one thing I’d waited for, the one thing I had yearned for, and as I saw the raw emotion in his expression now, I prayed he was going to say it for the first time. And hopefully not for the last.

 

He brushed a hand over my brow, pushing back the damp locks stuck to it, and he kissed my lips softly. He opened his mouth, and I swallowed past the lump in my throat.

 

Searching my face, Dawson said, “I want you to have my house.”