Water Signs: A Story of Love and Renewal

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Having had enough of the beach for one night, they returned to her

white Le Baron. As Madeline strapped herself securely in the bucket seat,

she was fairly certain that this time he would drive her to his villa, bid her

goodnight and leave her to replay the evening's events alone in her

apartment. Instead he paused as he brought the key to the ignition, then

turned his body toward her as far as the fastened seatbelt would allow.

Madeline shifted in her seat to face him. Moonlight streamed through

the windshield as their lips met again, gently at first, then with more force

as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. The intensity of his probing both

fascinated and frightened her. She froze for a moment, wanting to etch

the sensation of his exploration in her mind forever. She wanted to savor

every moment of his kiss the way she did every mouthful of warm,

chocolate chip cookies-an indulgence she rarely allowed herself. Mark

stopped and pulled back a little. She looked at him questioningly.

"Go like this," he whispered hoarsely. She watched as he danced his

tongue around the parameters of his own lips before fulfilling his request

as best she could, expressing her growing passion as freely as her

persistent self-control would allow.

"You're smooth," he whispered. She felt his hands on her waist, and

then sighed softly as they massaged her back, working their way up to her

neck. With his left hand, he reached down to unlock his seatbelt, freeing

himself to concentrate on her fully. Feeling flushed and breathless,

Madeline pressed her face close to his in an affectionate embrace. She

breathed deeply the scent of his spicy cologne and perspiration, wanting

to remember the smell forever. Mark complied and held her tightly for a

moment. Then, placing a hand on her cheek, he turned her face to his and

stared into her eyes.

"Kiss me, kiss me," he demanded firmly. In an instant, his mouth

devoured hers once more as Madeline matched him in ferocity until it

nearly overwhelmed her. Mark paused again only briefly. Madeline

watched as he pulled his white golf shirt from the waistband of his jeans

shorts and lifted it up, revealing a broad, masculine torso.

"Touch my chest," he demanded huskily. He reached for her hand

and placed it on his skin as he moved in for another kiss. Madeline

caressed his shoulders, agilely working her way down to his waist. Beneath

her fingers, she felt the warmth of his skin and the rippling of well-toned

muscles. His stomach contracted as she explored that area.

"Feels good," he groaned. Her hand lingered above his waist, moving

back and forth slowly, lightly. "I'm afraid I've developed a beer belly from

all the drinking I did tonight," he confessed, apparently unaware of how

good his body was looking to her at that moment.

"It's ok," was all she whispered in response as her hands continued to

work his flesh. Mark gathered her auburn hair in his hands, holding it to

one side while he hungrily pursued her neck.

"Is biting legal?" he asked, proceeding to nibble at her soft, inviting

skin. Lost in her own emotions, Madeline barely heard the question. Her

silence did not hinder him and he continued his activity, moving to the

front of her neck, and then inching his way lower.

Madeline closed her eyes as her entire body tingled. She ran her hands

through his sandy-colored hair as the nearby surf pounded with the

rhythm of their breath. Then a touch in a new area shook her out of her

reverie. She abruptly stopped and looked down at her inner thigh.

Reading her mind, Mark assured her, "I promise I won't go any

higher. I am trying to be really careful where I touch you. Too exhausted

to argue, Madeline gave in to his tantalizing caresses. It was incredibly

stupid in a way. After all, she was twenty-eight, not twelve. What was

really stopping her? It is technically only our second date. I don't really know him

yet. He could really hurt me if I'm not careful.Mark's hand stubbornly remained on her thigh, creating a rush of

sensation in the part of her anatomy that defined her femininity. He

buried his head in her chest, prying at the buttons on her dress with his

teeth. Consumed by both desire and awe at his hunger for her, Madeline

did not resist when she felt the second button come undone, revealing the

black lace of her bra.

Mark's hands slowly fondled her breasts through the delicate fabric,

sending chills throughout her body. He couldn't get enough of her silky

soft skin, the floral scent of her perfume, the feel of her chest against his.

He was about to free her from the bondage of lace and under-wire when

she suddenly caught his hand and pulled it away.

Like a little boy begging to keep a stray puppy, he moaned in protest,

"I want to kiss your nipples."

Madeline straightened up in her seat and refastened the buttons on

her dress as guilt overtook passion. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "It's

not that I don't want to. Please just give me some time." She lowered her

eyes as she spoke, unable to look at him. Mark, feeling guilty for rushing

her, gently drew her into his arms.

"I'm the one who's sorry, Maddy. You just excite me so much I can

barely control myself."

"The feeling is mutual."