Every Breath Read online

  She pulled out a chair and took a seat. Tru did the same, both of them facing the window. Her throat felt dry and she took a sip of wine, thinking that their actions were unconsciously mirroring each other’s. When Tru lowered his glass to the table, the fingers of both his hands remained on the stem. She knew he was as nervous as she was, which she found strangely comforting.

  “I’m glad you came with me today.”

  “Me too,” he said.

  “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Where else would I be?”

  The phone rang.

  The receiver was on the wall, near Tru, but for a few beats, they just continued to watch each other. Only when it rang a second time did Hope turn toward the sound. Part of her was inclined to let the answering machine get it, but then she thought of her parents. Rising, she stepped past Tru and lifted the receiver.

  “Hey there,” Josh said. “It’s me.”

  Her stomach tightened. She had no desire to talk to him. Not with Tru here, not now.

  “Hi,” she said tightly.

  “I wasn’t sure I’d catch you. I thought you might be out somewhere.”

  She heard him slur his words and realized he’d been drinking.

  “I’m here.”

  “I just came in from the pool for a few minutes. It’s pretty hot out there. How are you?”

  Tru sat unmoving and silent at the table. He was so near…

  Noting the way his shirt hugged his body, she sensed the muscles beneath the fabric, remembering the feel of his hand on her hip.

  “I’m fine,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant. “You?”

  “I’m doing great,” he said. “I won some money last night playing blackjack.”

  “Good for you.”

  “How’s the cottage? Good weather at the beach?”

  “It’s raining right now, and it’s supposed to last through the weekend.”

  “I’ll bet Ellen’s upset, huh?”

  “Yes,” Hope answered, and for an awkward moment there was silence on both ends.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked. She could almost see his frown. “You seem quiet.”

  “I told you I’m fine.”

  “It seems like you’re still angry with me.”

  “What do you think?” She fought to keep her irritation under control.

  “Don’t you think you might be overreacting?”

  “I’d rather not talk about it on the phone,” she said.

  “Why not?”

  “Because this is something we should do face-to-face.”

  “I don’t know why you’re acting like this,” he said.

  “Then maybe you don’t know me at all.”

  “Oh, come on. Don’t be so melodramatic…” She could hear the ice clink in his glass as he took a drink.

  “I think I should go,” she said, cutting him off. “Bye.”

  She could hear Josh continuing to argue even as she hung up the receiver.

  Hope stared at the phone for a moment before letting her hand fall to her side. “I’m sorry about that,” she told Tru, sighing. “I probably shouldn’t have answered in the first place.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No.”

  On the radio, one song ended and another began. The music was plaintive, restless, and she watched as Tru rose from the table. He was so very close now; she could feel her back pressing against the wall as he stared at her.

  She met his gaze without wavering. He moved even closer.

  She knew what was happening. No words were needed. She thought again that none of this could be real, but as his body pressed up against hers, it suddenly felt more real than anything she’d ever known.

  She could still stop this. Maybe she should stop it. In a few days, he’d be half a world away, and the physical and emotional bond between them was destined to be broken. He would be hurt and she would be hurt, and yet—

  She couldn’t stop herself. Not anymore.

  Rain sheeted against the windows and the clouds continued to flicker. Tru slipped his arm around her back, his eyes never leaving hers. His thumbs traced small circles and the fabric of her dress was thin and light enough for her to feel as if she had nothing on at all. She wondered whether he could tell she wasn’t wearing any panties, and felt herself growing wet.

  He pulled her tightly against him, the heat of his body imprinting on her own. With a soft escape of breath, she put her arms around his neck. She could hear the music, and they began to rotate in a slow circle, his body swaying ever so slightly. He smiled then, as if inviting her into his world, and the last of her defenses began to crumble. She knew she wanted this. When she felt his breath on her neck, she trembled.

  He kissed her gently on her earlobes and her cheek, leaving traces of moisture, and when his lips finally met hers, she felt him restraining himself, as if giving her one last chance to end it. The realization was exhilarating, almost liberating, and when he buried his hands in her hair, she parted her mouth. She heard a soft moan, barely recognizing it as her own, as their tongues came together. He ran his hands over her back and her arms and then her belly, the sensation like a trail of tiny electric shocks. He traced a finger beneath the swell of her breasts and her nipples hardened.

  She could feel her body against his. She brought a hand to his cheek and ran her fingertips over the stubble as he moved back to her neck, nibbling softly while she caressed his chest. Finally, taking his hand, she led him to the bedroom.

  In the bedroom mirror, she saw him watching her as she found the candles and matches and lit them, placing one candle on the end table and the other on the bureau. The dim light made shadows dance along the walls, and when Hope turned, their eyes met and all they could do was drink in the sight of each other.

  She sensed his desire and allowed herself to soak it in before finally taking a step toward him. He did the same, the world between them shrinking, and when they kissed, she relished the moisture and warmth of his tongue. Untucking his shirt, she unbuttoned it slowly, and when it hung open, she traced her fingernail over his stomach and his hip bone. His body was hard and lithe, the muscles of his stomach visible, and she pulled the shirt over his shoulders, allowing it to fall to the floor.

  Her mouth moved to his neck, and she bit gently at it as she reached for his belt. She unbuckled it, then undid the button on his jeans. As she began to slide the zipper down, she felt his hands begin to move over her breasts. Tugging at his pants, she slid them down and Tru stepped back. He untied his boots and slipped them off, his socks after that. Then came the jeans, and finally his boxers.

  He stood naked before her, his body perfect, like an ancient statue carved from marble. Hope lifted one foot to the bed, then the other, deliberately removing her sandals with tantalizing slowness. Tru moved toward her, taking her in his arms again. His tongue flickered against her earlobe as he reached for the strap of her sundress. He slid it over one shoulder, then repeated the process with the other strap. The dress fell from her body, crumpling at her feet, their naked bodies coming together. His skin was hot against hers as he ran his finger gently down her spine. She exhaled as his hand drifted even lower, and in a single motion, he scooped her up, kissing her as he carried her to the bed.

  Moving onto the bed beside her, he caressed her breasts and her belly. She nibbled softly on his lower lip even as her fingers pressed hard into his back, feeling beautiful in the candlelight, feeling desired in his arms. He slowly ran his tongue between her breasts and over her belly before coming back up. The next time, his mouth went even lower, and she knotted her fingers in his hair while his tongue teased and aroused her. It went on and on until she couldn’t take it anymore and she finally pulled him back to her, clinging to him, drawing him even closer.

  He moved atop her then, radiating heat, and reaching for her hand, he kissed her fingertips one by one. He kissed her cheek and her nose, and then her mouth again, and when he finally entered her, she ar
ched her back and moaned, knowing that she wanted him more than she’d ever wanted another man.

  They moved together, both of them fully attuned to the other’s needs, each of them trying to please the other, and she felt her body shiver with growing urgency. When the massive wave of pleasure crested over her, she cried out, but as soon as the feeling passed, it began to build again. She climaxed over and over, an endless sequence of pleasure, and when he finally climaxed as well, Hope was exhausted, her body wet with perspiration. She was breathing hard as Tru held her. Even then, his hands never stopped moving over her skin, and as the candles burned lower, she let herself drift on the tide of what they had just shared.

  Later, they made love again, this time more slowly, but with the same intensity. She climaxed even more powerfully than she had before and was shaking with exhaustion by the time he finished. She felt utterly spent, but as the storm outside continued to rage, unbelievably, she felt her desire begin to build again. A third time wasn’t possible, she thought, but it was, and only after she climaxed again was she was finally able to fall into a dreamless sleep.

  * * *

  In the morning, Hope woke to gray light streaming through the windows and the aroma of coffee drifting from the kitchen. She grabbed a robe from the bathroom and padded down the hallway, conscious of a ravenous hunger. Only then did she remember that they hadn’t eaten the night before.

  Tru was at the table, and she noticed that he’d already set out scrambled eggs and sliced fruit. He was dressed in the same clothing he’d worn the night before. When he saw her, he stood from the table and wrapped his arms around her.

  “Good morning,” he said.

  “You, too,” she said. “Don’t kiss me, though. I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.”

  “I hope you don’t mind that I made breakfast.”

  “It’s perfect,” she said, admiring the spread. “How long have you been awake?”

  “A couple of hours.”

  “You didn’t sleep?”

  “I slept enough.” He shrugged. “And I figured out how to work your coffee maker. Can I pour you a cup?”

  “Definitely,” she said. She kissed him on the cheek and took a seat before scooping some eggs and fruit onto her plate. Beyond the glass, she noticed that the rain had stopped, but if the sky was any indication, the respite was only temporary.

  Tru returned with her cup and set it beside her. “There’s milk and sugar on the table,” he said.

  “I’m impressed you found everything.”

  “I am, too,” he said, sitting beside her.

  She thought about how much she cared about him and how natural the morning already felt. “Aside from making breakfast, what have you been doing?”

  “I went next door and brought back some towels. A few other things, too.”

  “Why did you need towels?”

  “I wanted to dry off the chairs out on the deck,” he said.

  “They’re just going to get wet again.”

  “I know,” he said. “But I’m hoping I have some time before that happens.”

  She studied him as she reached for her coffee. “You’re being very mysterious about all this. What’s going on?”

  Reaching for her hand, he kissed the back of it. “I love you,” he said simply.

  Hearing the words aloud made her feel suddenly dizzy, and she knew she felt exactly the same way about him.

  “I love you, too,” she murmured.

  “Then will you do something for me?”

  “Anything.”

  “After breakfast, will you sit outside for me?”

  “Why?”

  “I want to draw you,” he answered.

  Startled, Hope nodded her assent.

  After breakfast, she led the way outside, and Tru motioned to the chair. She took a seat, feeling strangely self-conscious, both hands cradling her cup of coffee.

  “Should I put this down?” she asked, nodding at her cup.

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “How do you want me to pose?”

  He opened the sketchbook. “Just be yourself and pretend I’m not here.”

  It wasn’t easy. No one had ever drawn her likeness before. She crossed one leg over the other, then tried again with the other leg. But what to do with the coffee? Again she debated setting the cup aside, but she took a sip instead. She leaned forward, then tried leaning back. She turned toward the house where Tru was staying, then toward the ocean, then back to Tru. Nothing felt right, but she noticed that he was staring at her with quiet concentration.

  “How am I supposed to pretend you’re not here with you looking at me like that?”

  “I don’t know,” he said with a laugh. “I’ve never been on the other side.”

  “Some help you are,” she teased, and tucked a leg beneath her, trying to get comfortable. Better, she thought. Thankfully, Scottie had followed them out and she decided to focus on him as he lay curled beneath the kitchen window.

  By then, Tru had descended into silence, and she watched him pick up the pencil. His eyes flickered from her to the sketch and back again, and she noted the confident movement of his hand as he drew and smudged with practiced ease. Occasionally he would squint or furrow his brow, and she knew he wasn’t even aware of it. Somehow, that flash of nakedness beneath his assured demeanor made her want him even more.

  When the clouds began to darken again, they both knew it was time to stop.

  “Would you like to see it? It’s not finished, but there’s enough to show the general idea.”

  “Maybe after I shower,” she demurred, rising from her seat. Tru collected the pad and the pencils, and halting just inside the doorway, he kissed her tenderly. He pulled her close and she leaned into him, inhaling his scent, wondering again at the mysterious forces that had brought them together.

  Together

  After her shower, Hope sat beside Tru on the couch as he showed her his drawing of her, as well as others in his sketchbook. She took her time admiring them. Later, when the rain tapered off, they ventured out for lunch at a café on Ocean Isle Beach, while the storm rose to a fury beyond the windows.

  When she finally had to start getting ready for the rehearsal dinner, Tru sat on the edge of the bed, his gaze steady in her direction. There was something about watching a woman put on makeup that he’d always found sexy, and he sensed that she enjoyed having him as an audience.

  At the door, when it was time for her to leave, they kissed for a long time. He held her close, imprinting her body upon his, and stood on the front porch, waving as she pulled away. She’d asked him to take Scottie out later, and said he was welcome to stay at the cottage if he wished.

  He made a quick trip next door to pick up a steak and some side items, and prepared the meal in Hope’s kitchen. As he ate, he tried to imagine Hope among her friends, wondering whether they would be able to see in her face all that had happened in the last few days.

  He spent some time adding further detail to the drawing of her that he’d started earlier, stopping only when he was finally satisfied. Still not ready to put the pencils aside, however, he started another drawing of the two of them standing on the beach, facing each other in profile. She didn’t need to be there for that; it was enough to imagine the scene, and the work went quickly. By the time he stopped for the night, hours had passed, and he felt Hope’s absence like an ache.

  She made it back to the cottage by midnight. They made love, but she was still exhausted from the night before, and soon after, he heard her breathing change as she fell asleep in his arms. For him, sleep was elusive. Their time together here would be ending soon, yet he knew she was the woman with whom he wanted to spend the rest of his life.

  He stared at the ceiling, trying desperately to reconcile those two realities.

  * * *

  In the morning, Tru was quieter than usual. Instead of speaking, he held her for a long time in bed, and she felt her entire being resound with the depths of her feelings f
or him.

  But it frightened her, in the same way she suspected that it frightened Tru. What she wanted was for all this, these last few days, to last forever while time stopped everywhere else. But the clock seemed to be ticking louder with every passing minute.

  It was still raining moderately when they got out of bed, but they decided to take another walk on the beach nonetheless. Hope found rain jackets in the closet, and they brought Scottie out. They held hands as they walked, and by unspoken agreement, they paused at the spot where they’d met for the very first time. He kissed her and when she pulled back, he took her hands in his.

  “I think I wanted all of this to happen from the moment I met you.”

  “What part? Sleeping with me or falling in love?”

  “Both,” he admitted. “When did you know?”

  “I think I knew we might sleep together when we had wine on the porch after dinner. I didn’t know I’d fall for you until the night you came over for dinner.” She squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry about turning away when you tried to kiss me the first time.”

  “Don’t be.”

  They started the trek back, stopping in at the house where Tru was staying. On the answering machine was a message from his father, saying that he hoped to arrive at the house between two and three. Which would work out perfectly, Hope thought. She’d be leaving around then for the wedding. Even though the ceremony started at six, she had to be there early for photographs.

  Tru gave her a quick tour of the house while Scottie explored on his own, and she had to admit it was more tasteful than she’d imagined it would be. Despite her initial prejudice, she could imagine renting the place with her friends for a week and having a fantastic time. When they got to the master bathroom, Hope gestured at the huge whirlpool tub.

  “Shall we?” she suggested. The next thing she knew, they’d disrobed, tossing their clothes and jackets in the dryer. Once submerged in the foaming water, she leaned back against Tru, sighing as he gently moved the washcloth over her breasts and belly, her arms and legs.