“I can’t help wondering what we’re missing. Look at Cassie. She’s so different from me. She leads with her chin and wears her heart on her sleeve. There are probably other clichés that apply, but I can’t think of them right now. The point is she just puts it all on the line.”

“Is she happy with her boyfriend?”

“Good question. I don’t know. I hope so. I think she’s settling for Joel, but then I’m not the one in the relationship.”

“Sometimes people would rather accept what they can get instead of spending their time wishing for the moon.”

It felt so good and right to be in his arms, she thought. She didn’t ever want to leave. If the price of this moment was another day of hiking in the Cascade Mountains, then it was a small payment. She liked the heat of him, the scent of him, the feeling of safety, the way her body was slowly coming alive.

“According to your fan club online, you’re something of a superhero, Arizona. Are you telling me you couldn’t get me the moon?”

“Hey, I’m just a guy.”

“Oh, but what a guy.”

She made the statement without thinking. Arizona raised himself up on one elbow and stared down at her. Light from the fire flickered on his face. His gaze locked with hers. Sometimes she didn’t know what he was thinking, but this time she had no trouble reading his thoughts.

The heat between them flared instantly as her body went up in flames. She knew what he was going to say even before he spoke.

“I want you.”

Those three words stole her breath. Every part of her melted in anticipation.

“I want you,” he repeated as he traced a line from her cheekbone to the corner of her mouth.

It wasn’t going to mean anything, she told herself. It was impossible that this would be for more than one night. In the end, it wouldn’t be more real than the dream. Was that enough for her? Could she live with those rules and not have regrets?

Her first lover had been Billy. Her second, a boy in college. She’d hoped he would help her forget her first love, but the plan hadn’t worked. The lovemaking had been disappointing. The only time in her life she thought she might have experienced ultimate pleasure had been during the dream about Arizona. What if reality didn’t live up to that billing?

What if it was better?

She continued to look at him as she realized it didn’t matter. She didn’t want to be with him because of her body, she wanted to be with him because of her heart. It wasn’t love, she reminded herself. She wouldn’t do that again. But it was respect and caring. Wasn’t that enough?

“I’ve never made love in a sleeping bag,” she said at last.

“Actually, I haven’t either, but I understand it can be done. There are, however, certain limitations.”

“Like what?”

He smiled. “Let me show you.”

CHAPTER NINE

HE BENT DOWN and pressed his mouth against hers. His lips were warm and firm. He moved with a sureness that told her he remembered their previous kiss. The one at the reception. Unfortunately her memories stretched back to another time when they’d made love in a cave on the side of a mountain.

She told herself not to think about that. The dream was just that—fantasy. This was real, this man who held her in his arms and moved his mouth back and forth as if seeking the most perfect fit. But even as she tried to push the past away, it intruded and she wondered if reality could stand up to what she’d experienced that night.

One of his hands moved behind her shoulders. He gently pulled her braid out from under her back, then tugged on the rubber band holding her hair in place. With his fingers, he freed the long curls and combed them into place around her face.

When he was done, she reached up and wrapped her arms around him, drawing him closer. She wanted to feel him press against her. She wanted to absorb his heat and his strength.

He tilted his head slightly, then opened his mouth and pressed his tongue to her lower lip. She instantly parted for him. He slipped inside, a quick, confident movement that made her wonder what else he would do well. Would he know how to touch her? Would he find the right places to stroke and tease, discover the proper cadence to send her soaring into perfection?

She couldn’t answer the question and when his tongue touched hers, she didn’t care. The warmth flowed through her, as if her body were melting against his. She moved one hand to his head, to hold him in place. His hair was soft and cool beneath her questing fingers. Her br**sts swelled, her ni**les puckered. An aching tingle began between her legs. She wanted this…wanted him.

He shifted, sliding one leg between hers. His rock-hard thigh pressed against her feminine place. The pressure teased her with promises of what would come later. Gently, slowly, almost as if she didn’t want him to notice, she began to rock her h*ps up and down, sliding herself against him. The action both eased and increased the feeling of tension filling her.

“Chloe,” he breathed against her mouth. “I want you so much.”

His hands cupped her face. He lifted his head slightly, so they could look at each other. His expression was hard, his muscles tense. His breathing came in heavy bursts. Against her hip she felt the proof of his desire.

A quiet pride filled her. She didn’t know why this man wanted her. No doubt he’d met other, more exciting, prettier women. Some probably had been smarter, some funnier, but none of that mattered to her. He was in her arms, holding her close. He wanted to make love with her and she clung to that reality with every fiber of her being.

He kissed her cheek, her jawline, then forged a damp trail to her ear.

“I want you,” he repeated. “It’s like being a teenager again. I feel like I’m going to explode.” He rubbed his hardness against her hip, then groaned. “I could lose control right now.”

Boldly, not sure where the courage sprang from, Chloe slipped one hand down his chest to his jeans. She placed her hand flat against the throbbing ridge. He swore once, then bit on her earlobe. Arousal shot through her, brought on by the feel of him against her palm, the word he’d muttered and the sharp nip of his teeth.

“You’re going to make me embarrass myself,” he told her.

“Then we’ll just have to do it again until you get it right.”

“That won’t be a problem.”

His slow, masculine smile made her toes curl. She wondered where on earth she’d gotten the courage to say these things to him. Was it the dream? She wasn’t sure and she didn’t mind. With Arizona she wanted to be bold—she wanted to be the kind of woman he would want and admire.

He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her again. This time he didn’t wait—this time he plunged inside instantly and she was ready for him. Her tongue met his. They brushed against each other, circled, stroking. She inhaled his breath. Her body softened against his hardness, dampening, swelling, readying. She continued to move herself up and down against his thigh. Her panties were wet and she had the feeling that if she could just figure out the right spot or rhythm, something wonderful would happen.

One of his hands moved down her neck to her shoulder. From there he traveled across her chest to her right breast. She arched against him, encouraging him to touch her there. Her skin tingled, her nipple was hard, her body ached with a need that threatened to overwhelm her.

He slid over the curve, then cupped her. Through the layers of her clothing—bra, T-shirt, sweatshirt—she felt him move in a circle, as if discovering all of her. Chloe was pleased with her long, slender legs, could live with her butt and hips, but she’d always felt self-conscious about her small breasts. She thought they were fine, but compared to those she saw in magazines, she knew she was bound to disappoint some men.

But not Arizona. She wasn’t sure how she knew this. He didn’t say anything and she wasn’t sure she believed that she could read his thoughts by how he touched her. Yet the rounded curves fit perfectly into the palm of his hand and she knew that was exactly how he liked it.

His hand moved lower until he reached the hem of her sweatshirt. He tugged on the garment, pulling it up. They broke apart enough to help him free her of the fleece. Her long-sleeved T-shirt followed. Instantly the cool night air nipped at her skin. She shivered, knowing that soon he would be on top of her, touching her everywhere, warming her through to her bones.

He knelt, straddling her legs. With a quick movement, his sweater and shirt joined hers in a pile on his sleeping bag. His green eyes glowed as if lit from within. His breathing was as rapid and ragged as her own.

She gave a nervous laugh. “So what do the forest creatures think about what we’re doing?” she asked.

He grinned. “That humans have a funny way of staying warm at night.”

He stretched out beside her and pulled her close. Her head cradled in the crook of his arm. Their mouths met. With his free hand, he tangled his fingers in her hair, then stroked her bare shoulder. Shivers rippled through her—shivers that had nothing to do with the air temperature and everything to do with anticipation.

She didn’t notice him unfasten her bra, but the undergarment loosened, then fell away. “So beautiful,” he breathed against her mouth as he used his index finger to circle the underside of her breasts.

Her ni**les puckered and her breath caught in her throat. She wanted him to touch her there on the tight peaks. She wanted to know if it was going to feel as good as it had in the dream.

He broke away from their kiss and moved down her neck. Her upper body arched toward him in anticipation. He didn’t disappoint her. His mouth closed over her left nipple.

Soft, wet heat encircled her. He teased the taut bud with his tongue, then gently scraped it with his teeth. A moan escaped her, then another. She grabbed his head, her actions a silent plea for him to never ever stop what he was doing.

His fingers mimicked the action of his mouth, then he switched. As the dampness between her legs increased, her h*ps began to move with a will of their own. She needed him.

“I never thought—” She began, but couldn’t finish the sentence. There wasn’t enough air in her lungs. She’d never thought it could be like this. It was better than the dream. So much better. And yet it was all familiar.

She didn’t want to think about that. If she got caught up in trying to figure out what had really happened the night she’d worn the nightgown, she would miss what Arizona was doing to her now. She didn’t want that. She wanted to live in the moment, because life had never been this perfect.

He licked the valley between her breasts. At the same time, he unfastened her jeans. Large hands tugged at the fabric and slowly pulled it down.

She’d taken off her boots when she’d first sat on the sleeping bag, so her jeans came off easily. He tossed them on the growing pile of clothing. He knelt between her legs and kissed her belly. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized he’d pulled her panties off, too.

But there wasn’t time to worry or protest. Because before she could figure out what was going to happen next, he’d kissed her right on top of the soft auburn curls protecting her femininity. His fingers urged her legs apart, then gently parted her woman’s folds. With an unerring accuracy, he touched his tongue to that single point of pleasure.

Chloe gasped and came up into a nearly sitting position. No one had ever done anything like that to her before. She didn’t know what to make of it, but she was sure she liked it. Even as she braced her weight on her hands, she parted her legs more.

His tongue was magic. He circled her and danced over her. He began a fast rhythm, then slowed until she thought she might scream. Tension filled her. Tension she’d felt before, but not like this. In the past, she’d experienced mild anticipation. Now she knew she was going to die if he didn’t finish what he’d started.

Even as he continued to pleasure her, she couldn’t help watching him. His head bent low as he loved her so intimately. The play of the firelight on his bare back. Broad shoulders, long legs tucked under him. Bare feet. When had he taken off his shoes and socks?

Then she decided she didn’t care. As long as he never stopped what he was doing. As long as— She collapsed onto her back and exhaled his name. Pleasure raced through her, making her tense more, making her want to plead and demand and scream. All her attention focused on the places he touched. Not only on his tongue teasing her so deliciously, but also on the single finger he’d inserted inside of her.

He went in deep, exploring her, urging her on. Her h*ps jerked, driving him in more, needing him. His tongue moved faster, then stopped, letting her concentrate just on his finger. In and out, rubbing against her, forcing her to a place she’d never been.

She tried to catch her breath. Her heels dug into the sleeping bag, her fingers grasped at the quilted fabric. More. She needed more.

He read her mind. His mouth pressed against her again. He flicked his tongue back and forth. The finger inside of her circled and plunged. The movements conspired together to force her to the edge. Every part of her body tightened in anticipation. Then he stopped. One heartbeat. Two. She knew he was making her wait, building the anticipation. A whimper escaped her.

He touched her again—in tandem. His tongue, his lips, his hand. And she exploded.

She knew what was happening, but she couldn’t control it. The moment was too perfect. She bucked and grabbed his shoulders, begging him not to stop. He continued to move, faster and lighter, drawing it all out of her until every cell of her body had filled itself with the passion and pleasure.

Slowly, very slowly, she relaxed. He pulled his mouth away and sat up. Perspiration coated her body. Her legs trembled. She would never be the same again.