Opposites Attract

bed.
    “And they don’t float,” Asher put in, looking up at the ceiling of colorful shapes.
    “Good point,” Ty conceded as they fell together onto the bed. “Got any ideas how we should spend the evening?”
    “One or two,” Asher murmured. The balloon she held drifted up to join the others.
    “Let’s do both.” He stopped her laugh with a soft kiss that became hungry quickly. “Oh, God, I’ve waited all day to be alone with you. When the season’s over we’ll find someplace—an island, another planet—anyplace where there’s no one but us.”
    “Anyplace,” she whispered in agreement while her hands tugged at his shirt.
    Passion soared swiftly. Ty’s needs doubled as he sensed hers. She was always soft, always eager for him. If the pounding of his blood would have allowed, he would have revered her. But the force of their joined desire wouldn’t permit reverence. Clothes were hastily peeled away—a blouse flung aside, a shirt cast to the floor. Overhead, the balloons danced while they savored each other. The scent of victory seemed to cling to both of them, mixed with the faint fragrance of soap and shampoo from the postgame showers. Her lips tasted warm and moist, and somehow of himself as much as of her.
    When there was nothing to separate them, they tangled together, their bodies hot and throbbing. With questing hands he moved over territory only more exciting in its familiarity. He could feel reason spin away into pure sensation. Soft here, firm there, her body was endless delight. The warmth of her breath along his skin could make him tremble. Her moan, as he slipped his fingers into her, made him ache. With openmouthed kisses he trailed over her, seeking the hot heady flavor of her flesh. It seemed to melt into him, filling him to bursting.
    When she arched, offering everything, Ty felt a surge of power so awesome he almost feared to take her. Too strong, he thought hazily. He was too strong and was bound to hurt her. He felt he could have lifted the world without effort. Yet she was drawing him to her with murmuring pleas.
    There was no control in madness. She stole his sanity with her smooth skin and soft lips. There were no more pastel colors from frivolous balloons. Now there was gleaming silver and molten reds and pulsing blacks whirling and churning into a wild kaleidoscope that seemed to pull him into its vortex. Gasping her name, Ty thrust into her. The colors shattered, seeming to pierce his skin with a multitude of shards. And in the pain was indescribable pleasure.
    When he was spent, nestled between her breasts, Asher gazed up at the darkening ceiling. How could it be, she wondered, that each time they were together it was different? Sometimes they loved in laughter, sometimes in tenderness. At other times with a smoldering passion. This time there had been a taste of madness in their loving. Did other lovers find this infinite variety, this insatiable delight in each other? Perhaps the two of them were unique. The thought was almost frightening.
    “What are you thinking?” Ty asked. He knew he should shift his weight from her, but found no energy to do so.
    “I was wondering if it should be so special each time I’m with you.”
    He laughed, kissing the side of her breast. “Of course it should, I’m a special person. Don’t you read the sports section?”
    She tugged his hair, but tenderly. “Don’t let your press go to your head, Starbuck. You have to win a few more matches before you wrap up the Grand Slam.”
    He massaged the muscles of her thigh. “So do you, Face.”
    “I’m only thinking as far ahead as the next game,” she said. She didn’t want to think of Forest Hills, or the States—or the end of the season. “Madge is pregnant,” she said half to herself.
    “What!” Like a shot, Ty’s head came up.
    “Madge is pregnant,” Asher repeated. “She wants to keep it quiet until the Australian Open is over.”
    “I’ll be damned,” he exclaimed. “Old Madge.”
    “She’s only a year older than you,” Asher stated defensively, causing him to laugh again.
    “It’s an expression, love.” Absently he twined one of Asher’s curls around a finger. “How does she feel about it?”
    “She’s thrilled—and scared.” Her lashes lowered, shielding her expression a moment. “She’s going to retire.”
    “We’re going to have to throw her one hell of a party.” Rolling onto his back, he drew Asher close to his side.
    After a moment she