Passionfruit & Poetry by Tea Cooper

Author:Tea Cooper
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, contemporary
Publisher: F+W Media
Published: 2013-06-17T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

Every muscle in Jeanie’s body screamed as she pounded the path through the trees. Her breath came in rasping sobs and the shadows grabbed for her, their slimy tendrils scratching her skin. She stumbled and fell, the burn of the gravel grazing her knees. Forcing herself onto her haunches she pushed up determined to keep ahead of the baying crowd. They closed in on her, nearer and nearer, the long, insistent fingers grabbing at her clothing until only shreds of tattered rags covered her body. No matter how hard she pushed herself every step did little more than mark time. The voices got louder, echoing in her ears until her own scream filled the night air and she lurched up fumbling frantically for the light switch.

Surges of panic ebbed and flowed through her like waves hitting a beach. She wiped the sweat from her forehead with a shaking hand. Her skin was wringing wet, the bed clothes a drenched tangle around her exhausted limbs and the customary heaviness clutched her chest.

Finally her fingers closed on the switch and light flooded the room, sending the howling crowd back into the deep recesses of her mind. Empty and shaking, she laid on the bed only her ragged breath breaking the stillness of the unfamiliar room.

Stretching her hands behind her, she pushed her way up the bed until her head rested against the bed head and she could concentrate on her breathing and settle her rapid heartbeat.

It had been ages since she’d had the nightmare, years since that fateful night in the park when she’d foolishly fallen for Billy Westward’s promises and made such a fool of herself. But what had sparked the nightmare?

She played back the memories of yesterday. Xander. Xander, the photographs, the beach, their swim, and his kisses. A fresh wave of heat washed over her and she kicked back the sheets. Her first kisses, her first real kisses sullied by the nightmare. She ran her hands over her cheeks and fingered her mouth, checking for any trace, any residue from his lips. Nothing but a curling deep inside her belly. At last, at long last, she knew what it was to be kissed.

How anyone could be only a few months shy of their twenty-third birthday and never have been properly kissed defied every statistic known. There had been a few fumbled attempts, but nothing before rated as a real kiss. To compare Xander’s kisses with the few sordid gropes under the mistletoe at the Christmas street party or behind the bicycle shed at school was a travesty.

And how had she responded?

She closed her eyes against the harshness of the bedside lamplight as a wave of disappointment flooded her limbs. She had run — well, swam — away, ignoring the delicious response of her clamoring body. Terrified it would be Billy all over again. And in running away, she had done the one thing years of counseling had taught her she shouldn’t do and she had paid for it. The nightmare had come back.

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