It will be done. Her body stiffened as Ian kissed her neck and put his hand under her shirt to feel a breast.“You sure you want to do this?”“Yes,” she said.He kissed her, but her lips felt tight and hard; she couldn’t seem to help it. Hurry.Leaves crackled under the blanket when he rolled onto his back. The half-moon leaked enough light to reveal his scowl.“I’m sorry.” She rearranged her shirt and sat up.“You’re just not into it.”Fear of Maeve sensing her emotions would ruin this experience, Moira knew; she’d blocked so much and so hard that she wouldn’t let herself feel anything at all. And that was wrong. Because for all she felt anxious about this night and how it would change her and her life, she wanted to make love with Ian. She wanted to do this for him and for herself. She touched his cheek. “Sorry, I’m just nervous.”“Maeve Leahy is never nervous.”The words broke her. She stretched out and lay atop him. “You’re right. I forgot, for a second, who I was.”She opened, felt all: his hands on her, his mouth, the rush of emotion at her core, the rise of desire.“Touch me,”
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