"Just take me home. I'm beginning to tire of your company."
    Slowly, Patrick walked toward, a silly grin on his face. "As soon as I get my kiss."
    She wanted to run, but her pride stopped her. "I was hoping you had forgotten."
    "Not on your life."
    Sabrina slowly backed away from him, trying to put the maximum distance between them. Patrick steadfastly advanced, his intentions clear from the expression in his eyes, causing her blood to pound with anticipation.
    The trailing wisps from the willow tree touched her face and she knew she was quickly running out of ground. Her breathing quickened as the scrape of bark against her skin confirmed her fear: She had run out of space and time. She was trapped. Patrick was going to kiss her.
    He grabbed her and pulled her into him, wrapping his arms around her, pressing their bodies together. With apprehension, she watched his mouth descend. Soft, warm lips covered hers, gently caressing her. Hot languid heat filled her body. She swayed in his arms, clutching his shirt for support. In an instant, she was transported back to a simpler time under this very tree, a time when she had been hopelessly in love with Patrick. His kisses, then, had been innocent, sweet. But no longer.
    She tingled with anticipation as his tongue made its way into her mouth, probing and retreating, exploring each crevice. This was not the sweet kiss of their youth; this was different. This was better. This had to stop.
    Forcing her arms between their bodies she pushed him away, breaking the kiss, ending the spell. Breathlessly she said, "You got your kiss. Now take me home."

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