Ill Take Forever

her, the feel of him against her legs, her breasts, beneath her hands. She imprinted each sensation on her brain, to remember always.
    Kyle raised his head, sought and found her mouth. He kissed her, kissed her again, rubbed his lips across her.
    'You're good, Jenny, you're so good,' he said softly, moving to kiss her cheeks, her jaw, back to her mouth.
    She smiled slowly, deliciously. She was floating and never wanted to come to earth. She loved him, loved Kyle Martin with all of her being, yet he'd never even said he liked her. Fat, hot, slow tears welled up in her eyes, and spilled over. She'd have her one night, but was it worth it?
    Kyle drew back. 'What's the matter?' One finger brushed her eye, wiped away a tear. 'Did I hurt you? Jenny, I didn't mean to. I wouldn't do anything to hurt you, sweetheart.'
    She looked up at him, his silhouette swimming in the tears.
    'No, I'm fine,' she whispered. It was too late to turn back. Too late to undo what they'd done. She loved him so much that she ached with it. His face was shadowed, she could only just make it out the shadow in the silvery moonlight, but she smiled just knowing he was there. For whatever time they had, she'd cherish it. There was no other choice.
    He rolled over on his back, bringing her to lie against his chest. Jenny rested her cheek against his shoulder, felt the rough scar tissue. Turning her head slightly she kissed the spot, then rested her cheek against it once more.
    'Does it hurt?' she murmured.
    'No, you kissed it and made it better,' his voice rumbled in her ear, amusement evident in his tone.
    He drew the sheet over them as the cool night air chilled their overheated bodies. As he held her in the circle of his arms, Jenny felt his mouth on her hair once or twice as she slowly drifted on the lassitude left from their lovemaking. Just before she dropped off, she remembered.
    'Are you really twenty-eight?' she asked sleepily.
    'No, I'm almost thirty-five. A decade older than you, baby.'
    'Mm.' She snuggled closer, taking in the scent of his cologne, the male smell that was specially Kyle. Giving into the lassitude, she slept.
    Kyle woke her in the night to make love. It was better than before and Jenny thought she had gone to heaven. Just before dawn he kissed her and told her he had to go.
    It was late when Jenny awoke to the day, bright sunlight flooding the room. She stretched languorously in the bed, putting her arms where Kyle had slept, dreamily reliving the previous night. His touch exhilarated, inflamed. The delightful pleasure he had brought her was wondrous. She wished he had not gone to his stakeout, but had stayed with her and made love to her all day.
    She rolled on to her back, eyes wide, staring at the ceiling. As she became fully awake, sanity and common sense returned. It should not happen again.
    But could she see resist? It had been wonderful, would always be wonderful with Kyle. But dare she let it happen again? She’d get used to him being with her, to glorious nights together. Which would make it that much more difficult when he left.
    She sat up, confused. What was she to do? Maybe she should suggest he leave, not be part of the temptation she was unable to refuse. But could she do that, deliberately send him from her life? He'd be gone soon enough. Too soon. She loved him so much, wanted to be with him as much as she could. How could she deliberately shorten their time together?
    The day dragged by. Jenny caught herself daydreaming about last night, about a future which would hold only her and Kyle, one with no problems, no conflict, just the two of them. Each time she realized what she was doing, she would plunge furiously into work, only to find her mind drifting again, daydreaming again.
    What she needed to decide was how to handle their next encounter. Should she play it cool? Or be angry? Looking again at the clock, she wished the day would go faster so he'd be back home. The hours were slipping away. She wanted to capture them, hold them wring as much time with him as she could.
    When Kyle had not returned by dinner, Jenny knew he was still on the stakeout, probably eating sandwiches and Cokes. Was he thinking of her?
    As the evening wore on, however, she fretted with impatience, waiting for his return, longing to see him. Anxiously she listened for the growl of the motorcycle, watched for a sign from Shasta that someone was coming. But the evening stayed quiet, the dog lay peaceably nearby.
    It was after eleven