Tonight had been the most amazing night of my life. From the flowers, to the scrumptious meal, to being held in Philip’s arms for a moonlight dance under the stars. It had been absolutely breathtaking. I’d even managed to push back my anxiety and shake hands with a stranger. A male stranger even. And, honestly, it wasn’t as horrifying as I thought it would be. Not that I wanted to linger with the touching thing, but I’d done it, and I was damn proud of myself.

As the music played on the radio, I was lulled into relaxation from the wine I’d had, and the whole drive home, I was stifling yawns behind my fist. I might have even dozed off for a minute, because suddenly we were pulling into the driveway. Philip helped me out of the truck, and we walked hand in hand into the house.

“Thank you ag—”

My words were cut off by Philip’s kiss. The feel of his hand behind my neck sent shivers racing through me, and gooseflesh pebbled on my arm. My lips parted on a gasp as he wrapped his other arm around my waist, pulling me flush against him, and he took the opportunity to slide his tongue inside. Instinctively, my arms circled his broad, muscular shoulders, and I raised up on tiptoe to get even closer to his warm, strong body. I clutched his head in my hands and marveled at the softness of his hair. It was oddly erotic as I dug my fingers into his scalp, enjoying the feel and taste of him.

I grew bolder, and my tongue danced with his. My breasts felt heavy, and my core pulsed with need. I shifted closer and pressed my breasts against his chest, trying to ease the ache. I almost purred, it felt so good.

“Will you…will you touch me?” I whispered against his lips, my voice hesitant and breathy. “I want to feel your hands on me, Philip.”

His grip tightened just slightly on my waist before he relaxed. But there was a new tension in him. I held my breath as I waited for his response to my bold question. I felt in control, something sadly lacking in my life. There was power in being the one who said yes. I was allowing what happened to me. No one was making me do anything I didn’t want to. It was liberating to make my needs known. I’d never been given this chance before.

“Let’s go sit on the couch, maybe get a little more comfortable.” Philip’s voice was gruff and rumbled through me like a freight train.

As we settled on the sofa, I scooted as close to him as possible, until I was practically in his lap. My breath caught as Philip leaned forward and began plucking the pins from my hair, until he’d tossed them all on the coffee table. I let out a soft sigh as he threaded his rough, calloused fingers through my hair until it cascaded down, billowing around my shoulders and settling over my breasts.

“Your hair is like silk,” Philip said softly as he ran his fingers through my hair again, just stopping before he reached my breasts. “I can imagine it spread—”

He shut off the flow of words. My brain tried to puzzle out what he had meant to say, but when his finger ghosted across my neck, all thoughts flew out of my head. My nipples hardened, and I shuddered at his touch. I watched his eyes track the path his finger was taking as it brushed across my collarbones. I wondered if he could see how much his touch affected me.

“Are you going to touch me now?” My words were anxiously excited, but I couldn’t help it. I was desperate for his touch.

Philip’s lip quirked in a half-smile as his gaze met mine. His finger never stopped traversing across the top of my chest, moving neither higher nor lower. “I am touching you.”

My lower lip dropped into a pout. He was being deliberately obtuse. “Not there.”

“Oh,” he said with mock innocence. “This isn’t where you wanted me to touch you?”

My hair danced around my face as I shook my head. “You know it isn’t.”

In response, his finger navigated a path across my shoulder and down my arm, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. Now, he was just teasing me.

“Not there either?”

“Philip.” I hated that his name came out sounding so whiny, but I had no idea that I’d need his touch more than I needed air.

He must have taken pity on me, because he pulled me close so I was now almost lying on top of him, and he was kissing me again. He kissed me breathless, until I was almost delirious from lack of air. So much so that I hadn’t even noticed that his hand surrounded my rib cage, and his thumb was brushing the underside of my breast.

I whimpered with need and finally, Philip’s hand shifted upward and that same thumb thrummed across my peaked bud. A bolt of lightning shot through me, sizzling my blood in my veins. A thousand watts of electricity coursed through me and set my entire body aflame. There had to be a direct current between my breast and my core, because in seconds, I was wet. An ache grew inside me, and I didn’t know how to ease it. I’d never experienced these sensations before, and they were terrifying, yet exhilarating at the same time.

“Oh, god.” I breathed out at the overwhelming emotions rushing through me.

Philip’s movements paused as though weighing my reaction. “More?”

“More,” I echoed.

He brushed my hair off my shoulder and began nibbling on my neck. I tilted my head to give him better access, and I gasped when he nipped gently at me, before soothing the slight sting with his tongue. My entire body almost catapulted off the couch when his large hand engulfed my breast, kneading it with the gentlest touch.

An inferno of heat burned through me as he continued his sensual assault. Between Philip’s lips on my neck, my lips, my shoulder and the friction against my aching breast, I was going through sensory overload, and was afraid of spontaneous combustion happening at any moment. I wanted to capture this night, these overwhelming emotions of lust and arousal, and bottle them. That way I could experience them at will whenever I wanted this glorious sensation to wash over me.

My body writhed and ached, and the throbbing in my lower belly screamed for something just out of reach. Needing to do something, I found myself straddling Philip’s lap. It was as though my body had been inhabited by someone I didn’t even know as I rubbed my breasts against his chest.

“You like that don’t you, baby?” Philip’s voice was rough with arousal.

At his words, a cold rush of air smothered me, and I couldn’t move. In that split second, my chest no longer rose, and no air entered my lungs. The sound of waves crashing against cliffs came with a resounding boom in my ears. My vision darkened, and sweat poured profusely from my pores.

“Casey? Casey? Talk to me. What’s going on?” Philip’s voice was muffled and broken as it battled against the ocean water in my head. It came from far away, and I could barely make it out.

“Damn it. I’m right here, Casey. You’re safe. It’s just me, Philip. Come on sweetie, open your eyes. Look at me. That’s it. Open your eyes. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Finally, Philip’s words broke through the white noise, and I slowly regained awareness of where I was. Philip was on his knees next to the couch, and I was laying on my back as he pressed a cold towel across my forehead. I laid there, feeling the thudding of my heartbeat slowing down in my ears, the buzzing sound dimming to a dull roar. My hair felt sticky with sweat, and my head was starting to pound. None of this mattered in comparison to the raging embarrassment I felt. To this utter powerlessness coursing through me as the memories came crashing in.

“Oh god, please kill me now,” I moaned with my forearm draped over my eyes to avoid the pity surely shining out of Philip’s. This was utterly mortifying.

“Casey, baby, what happened?” Philip’s words were imbued with concern, but I couldn’t help flinch.

“Please don’t call me that.” My voice was rough, my throat thick and tight trying to get the request out.

“Don’t call you what? Baby?” I could hear his confusion.

I pushed the washcloth off my forehead and sat up on the couch, scooting as far over as I could possibly go as I curled into the armrest, knees to chest, with my arms wrapped around them. I couldn’t bear to look at Philip right now. Not that he’d done anything wrong. It wasn’t his fault what just happened. He couldn’t have known how I’d react. I didn’t know how I’d react.

“That’s what Mr. Childress would call me.” It had taken me a long time to be able to say his name without vomiting. I inhaled a shuddering breath before continuing. “Every time he would come to my room and touch me, do things to me, he’d always say ‘you like that, don’t you, baby?’ Hearing those words again just…freaked me out, I guess. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t you ever fucking say you’re sorry about something like that.”

I jumped at the biting words. My eyes drifted to Philip. Some of his hair had come loose from its tie, and several strands were sticking up as though he’d run his fingers through its long length. His fists clenched and unclenched on his lap. My gaze darted up to meet his.

“I’m the one who is sorry. I knew this was a bad idea from the beginning. I got carried away. Don’t worry; it won’t happen again.”

His tone held a note of finality.

“Yes, it will. I mean, not the freaking out part. I mean, at least, I hope it doesn’t. But, if it does, we’ll talk it out. Re-evaluate and start over.”

“I can’t go through the last twenty minutes, Casey. Do you have any idea what it was like for me when you were gasping for air? I won’t do that to you again. I’m sorry.”

He rose from his kneeling position and headed for the front door. I jumped to my feet.

“Philip, wait.”

He stopped and turned toward me with such a sorrowful expression; my whole body jerked back. “I’m sorry, Casey. I just can’t.”

Then, he was gone.