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or take the
leap of faith with him. And the air crackled around them, an unfinished fiery
past battling with a dark, uncertain future. And mixed in was the thrumming,
revving heat which always burned scalding hot between them. No matter what
damage they seemed to inflict on each other, it was always there, white hot,
cauterizing any hurts and wounds. Except the last one.
    “Do you, Lauren?” He took another step closer. Giving into
his desire, he snaked an arm around her waist, hauling her body to his. “Do you
know what you really want? ’Cause I sure as hell know what I want.” Her. And
she was in his arms. Where she should never have left.
    Her eyes darkened. Her mouth, the one he wanted to devour,
trembled. Her tongue nervously darted out as she wet her bottom lip. She was
scared. Like he’d never seen her. But she didn’t back off. She didn’t push him
away.
    “I know what I want,” she hesitantly replied, surprising him.
She lifted her chin, her mouth nearly touching his, her breath, a barely-there
brush against his chin. “I’ve always known that. And it’s never changed.” She
drew in an unsteady breath. “No matter how hard I try to change it.”
    And Bobby Wayne waited with his heart in his throat and everything
he ever wanted in his arms. This was it. She’d either tell him to go to hell
or—
    Her trembling hand curled into a ball between her breasts and
he saw the battle rage in her eyes. And still he held his breath. The not knowing
if he would ever drive again, not knowing what his future would hold without
racing in it paled in comparison to not knowing what she was going to say right
now.
    She held his heart in her hands.
    “I tried to forget,” she breathed out. “I tried to convince
myself, and I almost did. But…” Her lips trembled. Her chest heaved. “But it
never changed. I never changed. And,” her eyes grew moist as they darkened with
desire. “I know what I want.” Her arm slid from her chest to his.
    “I want you.” 

Chapter 7
     
     
    This was crazy. She was crazy. It had to be the house. Or
maybe Fate. No, she was definitely crazy. And then it no longer mattered what
she was. She was where she wanted to be. Surrendering to the moment. To the
rush. To Bobby Wayne’s mouth as he kissed her. To his lips as they devoured
hers, making her forget everything but his strength, his arms wrapped around
her, his rock hard body pressing into hers.
    And then she was taking control. Kissing him. Pushing him
back as they half walked, half stumbled toward the marble staircase. She pulled
on his shoulders until he sat down on the bottom stair. And then his hands were
sliding up under her shirt, cupping her breasts, stroking her nipples, his
touch exquisite.
    “I need you, sugar.” His plea was raspy, guttural. And he was
pulling down on her shoulders until she was on her knees between his
wide-spread legs. And his fingers were in her hair as her fingers feverishly
fumbled with the button fly of his jeans. And then he was free of his boxers
and she was holding him, cupping his balls in her hand, stroking his long, hard
length with the other.
    For the first time in her life a Foster wasn’t running away from something. No, she was running full-out, throw-caution-to-the-wind,
jump-off-the-edge-of-the-cliff-without-a-safety-net, right to him. And then she
was going down on him, sucking him deep into her mouth, licking and tasting him
like she couldn’t get enough.
    And she couldn’t.
    Nothing had ever felt like this except when she was with him.
    “Oh, yeah, baby, just like that.” His hands were tangled in
her hair, guiding her head up and down. And his groans, his guttural hisses of
pleasure were an aphrodisiac to her wounded spirit. God! She’d never felt so
empowered. So alive. So wanted. So sure she was exactly where she was
supposed to be.
    Her heart kicked hard in her chest at the revelation.
    And while she still reeled from that, Bobby Wayne gently
pulled her off him. He