"Just where do you think you’re going?"

"None of your business." She struggled to get out from under him, but it was a waste of effort.

"Do you know what time it is?"

she thought he was trying to give her a dose of her own medicine. "Of course I know what time it is."

"Do you also realize how dark it is on the beach?"

"Your point, Mr. Weller?"

"My point." He lifted himself up to look her square in the face. "My point is that it is not safe for you to be alone on the beach before sunrise."

"Don’t be absurd. I run here every morning."

He stood up, dragging her with him, as if she weighed no more than a rag doll. "Not any longer."

Naomi snatched her arm free of him and turned.

"Take one step and I’ll tackle you."

Slowly she turned back as if he’d said the one thing that got her hackles up. "You don’t have the balls." She challenged his command.

"Balls are the last thing you ought to be concerned with."

The menace in his voice matched her own, but she had the upper hand and she knew it. He’d arrived yesterday from New York. He hadn’t slept much, been up all night; she had no idea what, if anything, he’d had to eat and he looked like he could use a good eight hours. In a moment Naomi decided to accept the gauntlet. She smiled slowly, then swung around and took off. In seconds she was over the gate, not taking the time to open it.

He followed her, but she outdistanced him easily. She was used to running in sand. She’d done it here for the past week. Her job took her to Los Angeles several times a year and she always stayed at the beach and jogged everyday. In New Jersey she had a house at the shore. She was intimately acquainted with sand. Stephen on the other hand had his size and weight against him, plus the abuse to that beautiful body, but he was gaining on her. Naomi stretched her legs and made the terrain harder. She angled into the trees running along the outside of the estate. They paralleled the beach. She knew the area. There was no path, but Naomi had made her own as she’d traversed this area in the daylight. In the darkness, if you didn’t know where you were going, it was murder.

She ventured a glance over her shoulder. Stephen was closer than she expected. He was only a few feet behind her. She had to get away. If he leaped she’d be in his grasp and she knew she didn’t want to be there. He only needed a foot or so and he’d be on her. She had to do something quick.

Along the woods ran the wall to the estate. It was over six feet of melded stone that had been placed there decades ago, long enough for the cementing to adhere to the stone and make them one unit. She struck out more, reaching inside herself for all the strength that remained in order for her to get further ahead. He must have anticipated her move. She felt more than saw him go for the tackle. Luck was with her and she zigged right as he zagged left, only milliseconds before his hands touched her. She veered further right and headed for the wall as Stephen’s airborne body propelled itself through nothing that could support him, then fell like a stone to the soft dirt of the ground. Naomi took no time to determine if he’d been injured. She scaled the wall as sure-footed as a billy goat and headed back toward the house, never breaking her stride.

Then she heard him. Before she could look around strong hands closed over her shoulders and the rushing weight of him broke her rhythm and pushed her to the ground. She skidded under him across the soft grass. Her lungs whooshed air out as they came to a halt. She lay spent beneath him, unable to speak or move. For long moments she lay still dragging air into her lungs and exhaling, panting like a dog to return her body temperature and heartbeat to its normal rate.

She couldn’t help but think of the man laying on top of her. She was already sweaty and hot, yet she felt the heat from his body seeping into hers. There was nothing she could do to control the elevating temperature.

"Could you please get off of me?" she asked, feeling more out of breath now than when she’d run two miles trying to evade him.

"Yes," he said, then turned her over, but keeping her under him. His legs straddled hers.

"Haven’t we already done this?" she struggled.

"Not quite," he said. Then before she knew what he intended, his hands anchored her head and his mouth covered hers. Naomi was too surprised to react. His mouth was hard and insistent. She pushed at his shoulders, but it was like trying to move a bulldozer with a toothpick. His tongue slipped between her lips. She kept her teeth clenched. Then his mouth changed as if he’d decided on another course of action, as if the bad cop had finished and the good cop was now playing the role. Naomi understood this. Her brain still functioned and she was determined to resist him, but then her body relaxed. And his fell on top of her. The groan in her throat sounded in his mouth. Her legs opened to give him room and desire shot through her like a drug. His hands released her head and gathered under her shoulders pulling her into his arms. She held her breath as long as she could, then on an intake of air Stephen’s tongue filled her mouth and she gave up resistence. The hands that had pushed at his shoulders, encircled them. The teeth that were tightly closed, released. Her body molded to him and her mouth melded with his. Feelings she hadn’t known in years pumped through her as his mouth did magical things to her mind and body. He gathered her closer, keeping her under him, making her aware of every inch of his long, hard frame.

Naomi didn’t know what was happening to her. She understood that Stephen was asking more of her than anyone had ever asked. And she was giving all he asked for. She wanted to. Stephen lifted his head and looked at her. She could see the desire in his eyes and feel the want inside herself. She felt good in his arms and she wanted to stay there. His mouth was different when it returned to hers. It was tender and soft. He kissed her cheeks and her eyes, then returned to her mouth. Cradling her again him he deepened the kiss, holding her close. Naomi could feel his erection grow hard against her. She couldn’t keep her legs from moving against him, couldn’t stop the rapturous sensation that streaked through her with each movement, couldn’t damp down the need that wanted him.

When they finally separated Naomi’s breath was ragged. She lay against Stephen hearing his labored breathing as he tried to take air into his own lungs. Her head remained against him for a few minutes. Then she leaned back to look at him.

He stood up, this time leaving her alone on the ground. "You were saying something about balls."

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