To Love, Honour and Disobey

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Authors: Natalie Anderson
Tags: Fiction
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the way he was gritting his teeth. And while his eyes were hooded, his pupils were huge.
    And she knew. As crazy as it was there was no longer a choice, no reason to fight it. She knew what she wanted. She took a step towards him. And then another.
    He stood. Watching, not moving—except for his chest, which rose and fell fast. She heard him panting—more breathless than when he played football for hours in the midday heat. But he said nothing.
    She took another two steps, until only an inch or so separated them. As she relentlessly searched his expression his gaze dropped as if he didn’t want to see what it was she was thinking. She leant closer still. So she could feel his breath on her cheek, his heated body only a millimetre away. She dropped her head so her mouth hovered above his skin.
    ‘Doing this again is a bad idea,’ he muttered.
    ‘A very bad idea,’ she agreed, moving so her words were muffled against his shoulder. His salt was delicious, and so was his tiny groan. And her mouth parted wider, hungry for more.
    ‘Crazy.’ His lips brushed her forehead as he spoke.
    ‘Stupid.’ Her tongue touched his collarbone, tracing the ridge.
    His breath gusted out. ‘Foolish.’
    His head rested on hers for a moment; she nudged closer.
    ‘Mad.’ She lifted her hands, placing them, oh, so carefully on his chest, felt his heart thundering.
    ‘Absolutely insane.’ He dropped the whisper into her ear.
    She closed her eyes, angled her head to let him nuzzle the side of her neck. ‘Irresistible,’ she breathed. ‘Inevitable.’
    He froze. So did she. It was the moment. The decision would be made.
    Had been made.
    ‘Inevitable.’ He lifted his head, looked right into her eyes. ‘Are you sure?’
    ‘Is there a choice?’ she asked.
    His hands lifted, his fingers sliding into her hair, holding her face up to his. ‘There’s always a choice.’
    She tipped her head back further into his hold, deliberately letting her breasts press into his chest, her mouth part under his gaze. ‘Just once.’
    ‘For old times’ sake?’
    She shook her head slightly. ‘I’m not the person I was back then.’
    ‘Nor am I,’ he answered, sounding so serious, yethe seemed to be devouring her features. ‘So it’s a one-night stand?’
    It would be fitting. ‘That’s all it ever should have been.’
    He nodded. ‘Our getting married was a mistake.’
    ‘Huge.’
    ‘It’s not something I ever meant to do. I can’t offer anything more than—’
    ‘You’re a good-time guy. I understand,’ she interrupted.
    ‘That’s all I want.’
    ‘But last time—’
    ‘I was naïve. I mistook lust for love. I have it straight now.’
    Still he hesitated.
    Last time he had driven everything. And now he was holding back—despite the effort she could feel it was costing him. But his rigidity, his restraint only made her want him more. It was her turn to push it now. ‘I just want you, Seb. As a lover. For one night. Nothing more.’
    One night to indulge—and to expunge—the attraction. Maybe then she would be utterly free to move on. And now she didn’t want to think—just wanted to feel.
    He looked at her, eyes lingering on her lips. Lips that she licked—not to deliberately provoke or manipulate his response, but because they were so dry, felt so swollen with her fast-beating blood. He slid one hand round her waist, kept the other in her hair and pulled her closer against him.
    She closed her eyes against the brilliance of the blue sky, the blue water.
    And then she felt it—his lips on hers. Warm, saltyand yet so sweet. She felt his body leap harder and the passion that had simmered for so long boiled over.
    They kissed, broke apart, kissed again. His fingers threaded more tightly in her hair, tilting her so he could kiss her jaw. She arched further, encouraging him to kiss down her neck. Moaned at the delight of the hot, fast caresses and the urgency with which he curved his hand around her bottom.
    ‘Ana.’
    She

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