He supported her wobbly legs with his own as he turned her around. And then they were face-to-face, lips barely inches apart. Her arms reached across his shoulders, flushing her body closer to his, feeling her breasts press against him. The tight nipples ached for his lips and, at the same moment, his hair was in her hands. Since meeting him, she had wanted to play in his river of hair. The heft of his silky hair drew her closer to him, and they kissed, hard, lazily, lavishly. Tongues searched, hands caressed with ease and greed at the same time. His long fingers enclosed her derrière, forcing more of him into her.
The feel of it against her stomach set off a chain reaction of sensations. Without letting go of him, her body spiraled in sexual hunger, quivering against him, seeing rockets behind her eyes. It had been the best orgasm a woman could have possibly experienced. It was the epitome of sexual encounters in all her years of living.
Realizing what she had done, and who with, she stepped back despite the fact that he was still holding on to her blouse. “Darrius…what have I done?”
He stroked her blushing face. “It wasn’t you. It was me. I started this because I couldn’t help it.”
“What about your photographs?”
He looked in the tray. “They’re fine. Kissing you felt as though it were longer than it actually was. It felt so right, Justine.”
“But we shouldn’t have. I barely know you, and I let you master me.”
He took a few steps back. “I’m sorry.” He looked down, feeling bad for taking advantage of a situation he should have backed away from. In his heart, what he felt was real, natural, and he would never truly feel sorry for it.
Justine saw the anguish on his face, and stroked his cheek. “Don’t be sorry, Darrius. I could have pulled away—”
“Yet you didn’t. Why?”
“Because I wanted it; wanted what I shouldn’t have had.”
“Is the idea of me kissing you such a terrible one?”
Her smile lit the darkness. “The kiss was amazing, Darrius, but I’m here to work. My story has to come first.”
“And so it will.” He stepped to the photographs, took the tongs and lifted each one. Together they put the rest of the pictures into the solutions, but in dead silence.
He hung several and stepped back, looking at them. “The cave ones turned out great. Better than I expected them to.”
“You’re a good photographer, Darrius. I see that in work you think is so mediocre. You’re good with more than just pictures, and that’s what has taken me away from my work. No one has ever done that before.”
“And it would take a mere store owner to capture you.”
“Yes. Why do you think I didn’t pull back from you and slap you across the face a few minutes ago? Because you do something to me, Darrius. I’ve never admitted that to a man before; never had the occasion to. My camera simply aims at you without my help.” She looked at him, and then down at her sandaled feet. “My work must still come first. I’m not here to be romanced, unfortunately.” Her eyes met his in a sorrowful, heartfelt gaze. “I can’t come back here.”
“You can. I promise I’ll never touch you again unless you say so.”
“That’s just the problem. I would say so.” The neon hands on the clock caught her attention. “It’s after three. I should soon be on the way to the arts and crafts exhibits by now. I may have enough time to use your laptop to send a few photos to my editor. Would that be okay with you?”
“Sure, or you could come to the store this evening and do it. I have several laptops. The one at work is more sophisticated,” he added with the sly smile that he was so good at using. “Would that be good? Seeing as though you’re running out of time.”
Now comfortably eye-to-eye with him, she spoke. “It’s all good. Maybe I can come by and take a few shots of your store. Would that be okay with you?”
“When it involves you, everything is okay.”
6
UNCHARTED TERRITORY
They drove in silence, and they both knew why. There was no denying that what they had shared had been powerful, maybe more powerful than either of them could handle. Someone had to break the silence. Hers was the voice that eventually echoed in the stillness of the truck. “I left my basket at your house.”
“I can bring it to the store. Do you still want it?”
“Of course I want it.”
“I’ll bring it.”
That was all he said, and he barely looked at her. She knew why and understood. Desperate for him to feel good again, she touched his arm. “Darrius?”
“Yes?”
“Will you be able to meet me at the outdoor marketplace at six?”
“Well, I still have to rescue Derrick, who is probably wondering what happened to me. And then I have to check on things at my other store in Taos, but I’ll try.”
The car was still intact in the now more crowded golf course lot. Pulling up beside it, Darrius said, “I guess this is it. Take good pictures; capture the spirit. I know you will.” He moved a strand of hair from her face and looked into her eyes briefly, as if a permanent goodbye was in his thoughts. “I’ll get your camera bag and help you out.”
Justine didn’t know what to say to him. She sensed he wasn’t mad—but maybe a little hurt, but that was the last thing she had wanted to do to someone so incredible. She sat behind the wheel looking up at Darrius. “Is there still a possibility of me taking shots of you in one of your stores? I think it’ll be great business for you.”
“My business already does quite well.”
Her heart sank. “Oh.”
“But more is always better.”
“Really? Is Wednesday night still good?”
“It’s your schedule, your time. You tell me.”
