"Hello," she answered breathlessly, nearly tearing the phone off the wall in her eagerness to get to it in time. While her breathing returned to normal, she was forced to listen to a twenty-second campaign from a professional carpet-cleaning company.
By the time she replaced the receiver, Erin was shaking with irritation. Not because she was angry with the salesperson, but simply because the caller hadn’t been Brand.
He’d left two weeks earlier, and she’d heard from him twice by phone. A handful of letters had arrived, and although she treasured each one, she found something important was lacking in this second batch. Something Erin couldn’t quite put her finger on. Each letter was filled with details of his life, but she felt Brand was holding back a part of himself from her, protecting his heart in much the same way she was shielding hers.
She’d written him a number of times herself, but she’d always been careful about what she told him. Anyone reading her letters would assume she and Brand were nothing more than good friends.
After he’d left the second time, she’d battled with the right and wrong of continuing a long-distance relationship. Over the years she’d repeatedly promised herself she wouldn’t allow this very thing to happen, yet here she was involved with a navy man! Her principles had vanished like topsoil in a flash flood. Past experience had taught her that Brand wouldn’t give up on her, and frankly, she hadn’t the strength to sever things on her own.
Her plan was to subtly phase herself out of his life. But the strategy had backfired on her. Each day she found herself hungering for word from him, convinced this separation was far more difficult than the one before.
Erin dreamed of Brand that night. He’d come to her when she was in bed, warm and cozy, missing him dreadfully. Slipping under the covers, he’d reached for her, his eyes wide with unspoken need. His kisses were hot and hungry as he buried his mouth in hers.
In the beginning, Erin had tried to hold back, not wanting the kisses to deepen for fear of where they would lead. Gradually, without Brand ever saying a word, she felt herself opening to him. She was lost in the wonder of his arms, and he seemed to be equally absorbed in hers. Both seemed on the brink of being found, of discovering heaven.
His body had moved over hers, his skin hot to the touch and as smooth as velvet. The clothes that had been a protective barrier between them seemed to melt away. Bare, heated skin had met bare, heated skin, and they’d both sighed at the mysterious joy found in such simple pleasure.
His hands caressed her, his touch light and unbelievably gentle. His kisses robbed her of her sanity, and when he moved above her, she parted her thighs and moaned in welcome.
"Do you like this?" he whispered close to her ear.
"Oh… yes," she assured him.
His hands cupped her buttocks while his kiss raked her mouth. By the time he finished, Erin was panting and weak with longing. "Make love to me," she pleaded. "Brand, please, don’t make me wait… not again."
In response, he lowered his sleek, muscular body to hers. Thrilled and excited, Erin opened to him, wanting him so badly she clawed at his back, needing him to hurry and give her what she craved.
To her dismay, he didn’t enter her. She squirmed and closed her legs around the hot staff of his manhood, arching and buckling as he began to move, sliding between her thighs, the friction moistened by her excitement and need.
"Brand," she pleaded again, her voice hoarse as she clutched at him, breathing hard and fast. "Give me what I want."
"No…" His voice was that of a man in torment.
"Yes." She thought to outwit him, and she rotated her hips so that his thrust met the apex of her womanhood. If he were to continue, penetration couldn’t be avoided, and he would fill her the way she craved. Arching her neck, she lifted her hips, coaxing him to completion, wanting him so much she couldn’t think clearly.
"Please," she begged, tilting her hips higher and higher, but he stopped short. "I want to feel all of you…. Oh, Brand…"
"No…no…" He sounded like a man pounding against the gates of heaven, lost for all eternity. "We can’t… It isn’t right, not now, not yet. Soon," he promised. "Soon."
"We can… we must."
Her cries and pleas seemed to have no effect on him, and try as she might with her body, pushing her hips forward, inviting him, even demanding that he give her what she sought, did no good.
He was full and hard, and he teased her until a violent release delivered her physically from the prison of unfulfilled desire. She lay panting, her eyes closed, physically relieved but emotionally starving.
It was then that Erin had woken.
For a long while, she stared up at the ceiling, her head spinning, her heart pounding. She’d never been one to put a lot of stock in dreams, but this one had been so vivid, so real, that she couldn’t help being affected.
This was the way it would be with Brand. It wasn’t that he’d cruelly refuse to make love to her, but he’d never be able to satisfy the deep inner longings of her soul.
She required more than he could ever supply.
And they both knew it.
Each day that followed, Erin reassured herself nothing good would be accomplished by loving Brand. She’d made a decent life for herself, and she wasn’t going to leave the only security she’d ever found because a few hormones refused to let her forget she was a woman.
She repeated the same tired arguments to herself in the mirror every morning and then went about her day. But when the nights arrived, her dreams were filled with loving Brand. Not all her dreams were wild sexual romps. When they did come, she found herself left frustrated and miserable. More often, her nights would be full of memories of him and the scant time they had spent together. Brand and she would be walking, hand in hand, along the beach together, talking, laughing, appreciating the love they’d discovered in each other. Then Brand would take her in his arms and kiss her until her mouth was moist and swollen. His eyes would delve into hers while his hands tenderly brushed the red curls from the side of her face.
They’d kiss, and their lips would cling, then kiss again, slowly, lazily, savoring each other.