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272 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published June 4, 2013

He settled over her, his cheek to hers, and she reflected on a new facet of touch. Rough-stubbled jaw against soft skin. Breath huffing against her ear as he maintained his pace. The heavy weight of his body pressing her into the mattress. She dug her fingers into his shoulders and clung to him as he moved, pulses of sensation washing from deep inside her out to the edges of her skin. The normally solid boundary between her and the world that disappeared when she took wavered again, then vanished as release flung her into blackness.
It was like no time had passed at all. Different season, different decade, two seemingly different people, but it was the same. The heat, the passion, the need, the sense of total rightness; and this time he held nothing back.

"That's my secret, Ris. I focus on whatever I'm doing. I block out everything else. Now I'm focused on how tight you are, how you're slick and hot, and I'm paying attention." He stroked in once, twice, and pleasure began to simmer. "That's good," he said.

"You're cold," she exclaimed, then brushed her thumb over his lips. Even those were cool to the touch.
"I don't feel cold." His voice was distant, remote, as if the forty-degree temps and fog had chilled his voice, too.
She let her hand slip down his jaw to rest on his chest. He looked down at her, physically present, emotionally in the cold emptiness of space. "Says the Marine. I know cold. You're cold."


"It's the sun," she said through the lump in her throat.
"It's always there, Ris," he said gently. "Sometimes you just have to go searching for it."


"Slow," he said. "Really slow. Like it has to last forever."

"I'm asking. Please. Give me something more than a facade, more than a dream. Give me something real. Give me you."










There are no words for what we were. Love isn't big enough. Lust isn't deep enough. Lost covers it. We were lost in each other.

To err is human. To forgive divine. Neither is Marine Corps policy. But life didn't deduce to a bumper sticker, and maybe that was the answer to who he was when he wasn't this Marine. Not inhumanly perfect, or unable to forgive. Just Adam. Just like everyone else.

Her father taught her to dream. Life taught her dreams don't always come true. Her first time with Adam fell more into the realm of fantasy fulfilled.

She chose bed partners without much regard for rules or convention, but something dark and dangerous occasional breathed under Adam's steel-hard exterior. He had the power to annihilate her. He'd done it before.
"Why aren't you defensive about this? Most guys would be?"
"About having reached the advanced age of thirty and slept with two women, instead of two dozen, or two hundred?" When she nodded, he added, "'Quantity equals quality' is just another way of saying size matter, and I'm not most men."
"Then was one running battle between testosterone and willpower. He was the life of the party, the strategist behind every prank, skating through school on charm and just enough to get by"
"Girls?"
"What's the old Marine Corps slogan? Many were called. Few were chosen."

"Just so you know...if you change your mind ask anytime." He bent forward and kissed her, soft, hot temptation personified, before he stepped back. "I won't say no."
An image flashed bright on the movie screen of her mind: Adam, in her bed, saying yes to everything she asked. She'd been shocked by electric currents before, and that's exactly what happened now, the charged air between them zapping the breath from her lungs. Leaving the bedroom lights off, he covered the distance to the back door in four steps, then walked out into the rain.

"I can handle a lot, Adam. Giving up a dream I had no hope of realizing isn't much at all in the big scheme of things."
"Don't you see?" he asked gently. "I don't want you to give up anything for me. I want to give you everything I have, everything I am, everything you've ever wanted.

“This is about you and me, Ris,” he said. “It's always been about you and me.”
‘When you get everything aligned, when love welcomes the longing, accepts it, learns to live with it, you make love.’
‘One hard, demanding kiss and she opened to him. a little whimper escaped her before she lifted one hand to his nape and the other to his ruthlessly shawed jaw.’
This is the first time that I recall waiting over a month and a half to rate a book that left me unsure at the end.![]()