And the shocks continued to pile up by leaps and bounds when he discreetly inspected the price tags of several pieces, many of them in the five digits. He was astounded to realize that even the photographs could bring in thousands of dollars each. Lauren’s photographs in particular could bring in a whole lot of money, and she could make herself a very comfortable living just by selling a few pieces a month here at her family’s gallery. She wouldn’t have to traipse to remote corners of the world with him, living on a shoestring budget, would easily be able to travel in style wherever she wanted.

And that was when he knew he couldn’t ask her to make the sort of sacrifices she’d need to do in order to be with him. He had absolutely nothing to offer her at this point in his life – no steady job or income; a nearly empty bank account; no home of any sort, not even a stick of furniture or a single dish. Ben grimaced as he imagined the reaction Lauren’s parents would have upon meeting him for the first time, his only possessions what he could carry on his beat-up motorcycle. He knew that two people as talented and successful as Natalie Benoit and Robert McKinnon would naturally have equally high expectations for their daughters. And those expectations would not include one of their girls becoming a gypsy, with an unreliable source of income and less than ideal living conditions. While Lauren – stubborn, opinionated, independent Lauren – would more than likely give up or alter her own dreams and ambitions to be with him under any circumstances. And there was no way – no way – he would allow that to happen.

So he quietly made up his mind to leave, to head on down the road to the next stop, and by doing so to allow Lauren to have the sort of life she’d been raised to expect, the sort she deserved so richly.

Ben cherished each second of their last day together, committing it all to memory along with all of the hundreds of other memories he already had of her. He snapped photo after photo of Lauren – gazing out at the water, her long hair blowing carelessly in the breeze; giggling like a little girl as one of the dogs eagerly licked her face; as she wielded a spatula like a pro, flipping burgers and hot dogs on the big gas grill; taking a leisurely sip of Chardonnay from her wine glass; winking at him suggestively, her lush mouth quirked up in an inviting smile.

Thank Christ she hadn’t seemed as yet to detect that anything was amiss, because the very last thing he wanted was to provoke a confrontation, to give her a chance to argue and debate and demand. He’d seen firsthand just how stubborn and determined Lauren could be, how she held nothing back, and Ben knew she’d rant and rave and curse if she even suspected what his thoughts were, would call him ten kinds of an idiot for even thinking of leaving, and react furiously at the very idea of him making decisions for her.

But because she was so impulsive – not to mention so young – he had to be the strong one now, the one to walk away. Lauren was the sort of woman who very much lived in the moment, damning any consequences, and wouldn’t ever think ahead a year or two or ten. And it would break his heart if she ever decided that the life he led wasn’t what she wanted after all, or worse, blamed him for holding her back from what she could have made of herself.

No, he thought sadly as he drank his wine, much better all around to make a clean break before either of them got in much deeper. She was only twenty, he told himself firmly, and so beautiful, so completely desirable and passionate, that she could have any man she wanted. She’d forget that a man named Ben Rafferty was ever in her life without much difficulty at all. Whereas he – well, Ben knew he’d never forget this woman, would never love another in the same way. And he was probably ten different kinds of an idiot for even thinking of walking away from her, but he also knew it had to be done.

They went for one last moonlight stroll along the beach; took one final soak in the hot tub; watched another of the action/adventure movies that Lauren adored; and devoured almost an entire batch of her specialty slutty brownies. And all the while she never seemed to notice a single thing was wrong, chattering on as usual as though she didn’t have a care in the world.

But when he took her to bed later that night, he was terrified that he’d give it all away. Especially since Lauren was in a particularly feisty mood, leaving him in little doubt that she wanted to take control tonight. And while he enjoyed the times she played at being the dominant, tonight he simply wanted to cherish her, to savor her, and let the touch and sight and scent of her permeate his senses, to burn her into his memory banks for all time.

“Let me,” he whispered, tumbling her to the pillows as she would have crawled on top of him instead.

She gave a stubborn little shake of her head, trying to push him off of her, but then gave a little “mmph” of surprise as he captured her lips in a long, searching kiss. Within seconds her arms were wrapped tightly around his neck, pulling him in close rather than shoving him away. He kissed her with a sense of near desperation, as if to memorize the taste of her sweet mouth, the feel of her soft, plush lips beneath his. He rained kisses over her forehead, the tip of her small nose, across each rosy cheek, and then down the side of her throat.

Lauren gasped as his hot mouth traced a path between her lush breasts, and then around the underside of each full, round globe. She clutched his head to her as his lips closed over one pale pink nipple, sucking it hard, while his fingers plucked at the other tight little bud over and over. He’d brought her to an orgasm just like this once, simply from stimulating her breasts, but he was far too hungry for her tonight to try and repeat the experience.

But when his lips continued on their downward path to her belly and lower, Lauren somehow managed to squirm out from beneath him. Before he could protest, she’d urged him onto his side and then flipped herself around until they were both in the perfect position for sixty nine.

They’d experimented with this particular sexual position several times before, and each time Ben had thought that nothing could be much better than the twin sensations of eating out Lauren’s sweet, juicy pussy while she sucked his cock with deep, hungry pulls. It didn’t take very long at all for her to climax around his tongue and fingers, his cock slipping from between her lips as she moaned loudly with pleasure. He took advantage of her momentary lapse to ease her back onto the pillows just before surging deep inside of her pliant body before she could summon up a protest.

Even as he rode her hard, pumping his rampant cock inside of her over and over, Ben knew that what they’d shared had always gone far beyond mere fucking. As raw and hard and dirty as sex could be with Lauren at times, it had always, always been lovemaking from the very first time.

He forced himself to keep his eyes open so that he could gaze down at her beautiful face while keeping up the rhythmic thrusts of his cock inside her tight, slick cunt. She stared back up at him, her green eyes still glazed over from her earlier orgasm, and she was so fucking perfect that it made his heart ache with the realization of how much he loved her. It was only when he felt tears form in his eyes, trickling down his cheeks to mingle with the sweat that poured from his brow, that he forced his eyes shut. He couldn’t allow Lauren to see that he was crying, see how deeply their lovemaking was affecting him. And not because he was afraid she’d think him weak or less of a man. Ben was too assured of his own masculinity for something like that to ever bother him. No, the reason he couldn’t permit her to witness his emotional breakdown was because he was terrified that Lauren – with her innate gifts of perception – would suspect what he planned to do.