This was so right. This was…now.

Crazy but right. Stupid but wonderful.

Perfect for now.

Her body was on fire.

Not crazy. Not stupid.

Perfect.

He was touching each nipple in turn with his lips, reverent, wondering, and she arched back, hot with want. It felt so good, so wonderful, to be lifted out of the past six months, to feel the grey fading away like some forgotten nightmare.

Her body was surging to his touch, a bud unfurling in a blast of heat, coming to life in ways she’d never felt before.

Jake.

She should be embarrassed. She should at least be a little self-conscious.

She felt nothing but right. His gaze told her she was beautiful and for tonight she believed that message absolutely.

‘I believe things are a little unequal,’ she managed, and somehow she unfastened his shirt, button by button, a slow, inexorable path of exploration, while he kissed her lips, her breasts, the nape of her neck, trailing kisses downwards while she tried to concentrate on undressing him. His shirt was gone, his belt, his chinos, and then, finally, he was kicking them aside and all his clothes had disappeared. Her skin met his as he tugged her close, closer, her body curved into his and fell onto the bed of soft, lush grass.

They gasped as one as the coolness of the grass met their bodies. They were clinging to each other for warmth, for heat, waiting for the loving to take over and for the cool of the night to disappear.

As it did. As it must.

She wanted him. She ached for him as he kissed her, deeply, searchingly, wonderfully, as his fingers explored every contour of her body, as her breasts moulded to him, as their heartbeats synchronised.

She wanted him, wanted him, wanted him…

Skin against skin, full-length, she had him all. He was hers.