FullDisclosure (12 page)

“Rach?”

She turned to find Tanya and Alaina, arms laced around each other, gazing at her with concern. That was the other thing about this community. Rachel had never met a group of Christians that were so affectionate with each other. Men and women hugged, and hugged each other constantly. She’d seen couples arm in arm or hand in hand walking through the grounds without a care for who saw them. She’d even seen two men holding hands as they sat together at the fire the night before, and had thought to herself how deep their Christian love must be for each other to be so unselfconscious about that. She envied them that.

Tanya laid a hand on Rachel’s shoulder. “You okay, sweetie? You seem a bit lost.”

“No, no. I’m fine.” She took a deep breath of the morning air. “Just taking it all in. It’s a little overwhelming here.”

Alaina smiled. “In a good way, we hope. Noah better not be neglecting you!”

“Oh yes. Yes. Definitely. I’m having a wonderful time. And Noah’s wonderful.”

Alaina winked. “You won’t get an argument with us there. You’re a lucky girl.”

Rachel felt herself blush.

“So, you coming along for breakfast? I’m sure he’ll be—”

“He’s right here.”

All three turned to find a rosy-cheeked Noah striding up to them, a broad grin on his face. He had a blanket over his shoulder and a large—and very mysterious—picnic basket looped over one arm.

“Are you two talking about me again? Telling Rachel all my secrets?”

“Well, if you’d share them with
us
maybe then we could tell
her
.” Alaina shrugged grandly. “As it is we have to rely on elaborate fabrications to sully your pristine reputation.”

Noah moved right up beside Rachel and looped his free arm around her waist. “Bearing false witness is a sin, you know.”

Tanya waggled her eyebrows. “Well, a girl can’t be perfect, you know.”

“I don’t know,” quipped Alaina. “You’re perfect for me.” And then she kissed Tanya on the cheek.

Rachel was beginning to get a funny…vibe from those two, but she didn’t have time to process it because before she knew it Noah was whisking her away into the trees for a picnic breakfast beside the lake. “I hope you don’t mind,” he was saying. “But I got the impression that maybe you were a little overwhelmed by everybody and wouldn’t mind some more…quiet time before the workshops and seminars start at ten.”

“That sounds wonderful, Noah.” She laid her head against his shoulder. “Don’t get me wrong. Everyone is so friendly and welcoming, I have no right to feel anything but completely comfortable and at home.”

“But still…it’s a lot to take in all at once, isn’t it?” He squeezed. “Especially for a country hick like you.”

She laughed at what had become a running joke between the two of them. “Yeah. I guess it is.”

They reached the shore of the small lake and Noah spread the blanket out in a patch of sunlight where the morning rays had managed to dry out the dew. The sun glittered on the water like a million diamonds and the soft lap of the waves on the nearby shore strummed against her heart like the softest of hymns. She leaned back on her elbows, taking it all in as Noah laid out his feast of hard-cooked eggs, fresh bacon, croissants, fruits and cheeses. He’d even packed a carafe of hot coffee and a pair of stoneware mugs to drink it from.

“You know,” she said on a sigh, “I don’t know how anyone can sit in a place like this and see wonders like these, and not just
know
that there is a God and that he loves us.”

Noah offered her a mug of coffee and she sat up to take it. She took a sip and plucked a flaky croissant from the plate he’d set in the center of the blanket.

Noah chose a hunk of brie. “Maybe so, but there are a lot of people in the world who never experience this kind of beauty and serenity. It’s harder to believe in God when your parents kicked you out of the house and you have to beg for food and make your home in a cardboard box behind a Yonge Street strip club.”

The croissant turned to sawdust in her mouth. “Oh my. I’m sorry, Noah. Did I…I mean…is that how you—”

“No, no.” He picked up her hand. “I didn’t mean it like that. I was just speaking about city life in general. I was one of the lucky ones. I had a very happy—” He paused. “Scratch that. I was very well provided for in my childhood. I wouldn’t say I was
happy
, however, until I went to live with my father when I was twelve.”

Intrigued, she leaned forward. “Your parents aren’t together either?”

“Good grief, no. They divorced when I was two. And after living with my mom for another ten years I can’t say I blamed my dad for leaving. That and he had…other reasons.” He took a sip of his coffee, and she couldn’t be sure, but she thought he seemed a tad uncomfortable. But when he set down his mug he continued, as amiably as ever. “Barely a third of the people here have parents who are actually married or live together anymore. That’s not weird at all.”

“Oh. I thought my situation was so unusual.”

“Hardly. What made you think that?”

“Well, I knew that the way we lived was unusual. It only took a couple of trips into the city for supplies to see that. And also my mother always drilled into my head how important it was to find the right man and marry him. That I should learn from her mistakes and her sins. Marriage is a covenant, not to be taken lightly. I never even really thought about…the alternatives. I figured if you marry somebody it would be right. You know…forever.”

“Well, in an ideal world it would be. But we don’t live in an ideal world, do we?”

“No. We sure don’t.”

“And everybody is different, with their own needs and desires. And sometimes those needs and desires grow and change, and so do the people who have them. And those people should be free to
pursue
those needs and desires—and to make their own mistakes—as they see fit. Don’t you think?”

“I-I suppose.”

“I mean why would God punish us for following the very desires he instilled in us? Why punish us for being human, when He’s the one who created us that way?” He leaned forward. “I mean, does God really care about who we sleep with and when? Don’t you think he’s more concerned that we treat each other with love, charity and respect, rather than whether we’ve made ourselves miserable by denying the very things he gave us desire for?” He sat back again. “How does being guilty and miserable make us more holy?”

She stared at him, hardly daring to breathe for fear of ruining the fantasy that she seemed to be living. He had echoed the very thoughts she’d had just a few hours ago. Truth be told, she’d been having those thoughts ever since meeting Noah in that coffee shop. She’d never felt this way before, never dreamed it was possible. And she couldn’t bear the thought of her feelings being
wrong
somehow. How could something that felt so good and so beautiful—and so right—be wrong? How could it be a sin?

“Exactly,” she whispered, her face flushing hot with excitement as his gaze penetrated hers. “Those are my thoughts, exactly.”

“And that’s not just me talking, Rachel. That’s the philosophy of this community. We praise God for His gifts. And one of His gifts is the wonderful diversity and love that the human race is capable of. We celebrate our humanity and all the diversity of God’s creation. We don’t punish anyone for it. Or judge. If there’s going to be judgment that’s up to Him. It’s not our decision.”

His words were like honey to her starving soul. And she hadn’t even realized it was starving until she met him. Now that she knew it she wanted to be filled.

Her eyes must have spoken the words for her because in the next moment she felt his hand on her cheek and he was whispering the words she longed to hear. “You’re so beautiful, Rachel. One of the most beautiful women I’ve ever met. Truly beautiful. Inside and out.”

“I don’t think so. I don’t know how to be beautiful. I never thought of myself that way before.”

“Well,
that’s
a sin.” He stroked a finger down her cheek and she thought she’d die from wanting to feel the touch of his lips.

She placed her hand over his just to get another dose of the warmth of his touch. “But this isn’t. Right? What we’re feeling. It’s not a sin.”

“No. This is beautiful. It’s definitely not a sin.” And at last he leaned in and kissed her.

Sadie rolled over—and bumped into a warm body. Still half asleep but curious, she slid a tentative hand over the sheets to explore the warmth that was snuggled beside her under the covers.

Her fingers found smooth, hot skin and the veins and sinew of a hair-dusted forearm. Sighing with delight, she explored farther and came across the firm curve of a biceps muscle—and then a shoulder. Collarbone. Pectoral.

There she stopped. Pressing her hand a little more firmly to his chest, she could easily make out the steady thrum of his heart. Opening her eyes at last, she gazed upon Jake’s face, still so peaceful in sleep and lit by the golden glow of the morning sun.

He looked very much like an angel, she thought. And she wondered if, perhaps, that was exactly what he was. Who other than an angel would give a half-naked woman a massage from scalp to ankles—a massage complete with scented oil, candlelight and the soft strains of a Mozart sonata? And what man would do that without expecting some form of…payment? Although the massage was incredibly sensual and erotic, he had remained true to his word, and had even turned down her semi-sentient request to make love to her.

Although she’d been half zoned out on wine and Jake’s touch she remembered it clearly. She’d gotten so aroused as his hands had kneaded the muscles of the small of her back and then the backs of her thighs. She’d been certain he was doing it merely to torture her, and had found herself yearning for his fingers to inch lower. Between her thighs. To sink deeply into her pussy and massage her where she needed it most.

At last, unable to stand it another moment, she had whimpered a barely coherent plea—which he had chuckled away with a kiss to her shoulder and a gentle promise that if she still wanted him in the morning, he’d be more than happy to oblige. She later had a vague recollection of him asking if she’d mind if he slept on the bed beside her. She didn’t recall answering, but had little doubt she’d been open to the idea. At one point in the night she’d snuggled up to him, drawn his arm across her waist and luxuriated in the pure joy of feeling completely safe. Completely cared for. Beyond that, however, nothing other than sleeping had happened.

But it was morning now and she was well-rested, sober and still wanted him—desperately. And she intended to hold him to his word.

The trouble was he was sleeping so soundly, his breathing so soft and gentle and his face so relaxed that she didn’t have the heart to wake him.

However, for as much as she didn’t want to disturb him, neither did she have the strength to keep from touching her lips gently to his. She closed her eyes and did just that, the kiss barely a breath of flesh against flesh, and yet so sweet and tempting it was as arousing as the entire evening of massage had been.

When she opened her eyes and drew away she did so with the biggest of sighs. And she wasn’t sure if it was the kiss itself or that sigh that did it, but either way his eyes opened. And he smiled. “Good morning, sexy.”

“Oh,” she said, full of regret. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

His hand found her cheek, again the touch so gentle it almost made her swoon. “Why on earth not? It’s been five hours since I’ve seen your glowing face. That’s already too long.”

The compliment made her blush. “You were so tired, and worked so hard last night. You deserve a good long sleep. I was going to make you breakfast in bed.”

“That wasn’t work.” His hand skimmed down her shoulder and arm, kicking up a gentle hit of the spicy-scented oil he’d used the night before. “That was my pleasure. But thank you for wanting to let me sleep. That was so—”

She didn’t know what came over her, but she couldn’t take it anymore. She kissed him hard, the desire that had built over the past couple of days welling up and bursting through her like a supernova. Even as she did it she was petrified that he would push her away, but her fears were needless.

He didn’t reject her. Instead he groaned with pleasure, accepted the kiss and wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her in closer as he allowed her tongue to plunder his. His arms still tight around her, he rolled onto his back so that she lay on top of him, looking down into those gorgeous green eyes. There were tiny flecks of gold in them, she realized as the sunlight hit his irises. How could any woman resist that? Or perhaps it was less the color and more the
way
he was looking at her. It at once embarrassed and thrilled her.

He gazed up at her, ran his fingers through her hair that fell over his cheeks.

Even though his eyes—and his erection that she could feel clearly through the fabric of his boxers and her silky thong—spoke volumes of his desire, she had to ask, “So do you want me? Do you want me now?”

He frowned. “Good God, Sadie. I’ve wanted you from the first moment I saw you. I just wanted to be absolutely sure you wanted me.”

And then he cupped the back of her head, his hands so strong and commanding, and drew her in for another long, deep kiss. The kind of kiss that made her clit throb and her nipples ache. They wanted to be touched.
Needed
to be touched.