“I don’t need-”
Interrupting her, he said, “Of course, I realize you don’t have much in the way of comparisons. But I think I can remedy that.” When she reached for his hands, he caught her wrists gently in one hand, pinning them to the mattress.
“You have no idea how you haunted me,” he whispered, stretching his length out beside hers. “I’d wake up at night, aching for you, and you were there beside me all along.”
Her thick lashes fluttered over her eyes, a faint flush rising from her breasts upward. Still, she shifted and twisted against his hands. “Dale, stop it. This isn’t solving anything,” she ordered, her voice just the slightest bit ragged.
“You said it was solved,” he murmured, nuzzling his way down her neck.
“I’ve changed my mind,” she hissed, arching up against him.
“Are you saying you don’t want me to make love to you?” he asked, conversationally, propping himself up on his elbow and staring down at her. His blue eyes looked into hers with pure innocence while his free hand found the catch on her bra. As her breasts fell free, he caught one in his hand, plumping it, dragging his thumb lightly across her distended nipple. A tiny droplet of milk glistened there and he caught it on his finger, lifting it to his mouth, all the while staring into her eyes, waiting for her answer.
Lauren’s eyes were locked on his hand as he slid one long finger between his lips, licking it clean before tracing the damp finger down the center of her chest. Circling her navel, back up to tease at her sensitized breasts, then up to her chin, forcing her gaze to his. He caught her hand and raised it to his mouth, nibbling on her knuckles before telling her, “I’ll stop if you want me to. I swear it. What happened earlier won’t ever happen again.”
Guilt darkened his eyes briefly and he closed them, willing it away.
When Lauren’s hazy eyes cleared enough to see his face, his eyes were the way she had seen them the first time he had kissed her, sleepy, sexy, and just slightly wicked.
“Should I stop?” he asked roughly.
Words were frozen in her throat. Yes. Yes, she wanted him to stop. She opened her mouth to speak, but all that left her was, “No. Please, don’t.”
He smiled at her, tenderly. Lowering his head, he bussed her mouth with his before resuming his tactile exploration of her body. “I’d wake up after dreaming of that night, hard and aching. Sometimes, I thought I’d die if I couldn’t touch you again. And I felt so guilty, because you were lying there beside me, my wife. My life. I’d move all of heaven and earth to make you happy. But I couldn’t stop thinking of the woman I’d been with that night.”
Her eyes closed against the backwash of her own guilt, and the shameful pride of knowing it had been her, all along. The tiny smile playing at her mouth caught his eyes and he nipped her shoulder with sharp teeth. “Like knowing that I’d been going out of my mind?” he asked gruffly. That sly female smile, the desire that darkened her eyes to smoke tightened his skin, heated blood already hot. “Hell, you drove me damn near insane. Both of you.”
He buried his face in the curve of her neck and whispered, “Damn it, I love you, Lauren. So much it hurts. So much I ache with it. When I’m not with you, it feels like part of me is missing.
“And I’m not…” he nipped gently at the cord in her neck “going to let this come between us. Nothing will do that.”
He slid his hands inside the waistband of her khakis, dragging them slowly down the length of her smooth pale legs. He knelt at her feet, his eyes lingering on her body. How could he not have known it had been Lauren? he wondered. Those spectacular breasts rose and fell with each ragged breath. The scent that had haunted him rose from her heated skin. Her mouth parted and her teeth sank into her lower lip, her eyes fluttering closed. He grasped one ankle, raising it, massaging it with the pads of his thumbs. An involuntary groan of pleasure escaped her lips as he rotated her ankle, moved his way up her calf. “I’m not going to let you close me out, Lauren,” he murmured. “You’re too much a part of me.”
“Dale…”
He released her ankle, moving upward until he was kneeling between her thighs. With a feathery light touch, he stroked one finger down through the patch of hair, hot moisture dampening the tight curls. “I hurt you earlier. And before. As God is my witness, it’ll never happen again.” Tiny little droplets of her cream had collected there and were gleaming like pearls.
She opened her mouth to say something but the words locked in her throat when he lowered his head, parted her flesh and licked her. A startled climax tore through her only seconds after he touched her, leaving her gasping and panting for air as he began again. He paused only long enough to ask, “All better, Lauren?”
Her only answer was the low ragged moan that left her body when he lowered his head and caught the bud of nerves gently between his teeth. He shifted until he had one leg draped over his shoulder then he tilted her bottom higher, braced his weight and slid one finger inside her body. Back and forth he stroked, suckling at her clit with his mouth, biting down gently, caressing the quivering folds of her body with a knowing hand.
Her hands fisted on his shoulders, closed around his head, tightened on his hair. Her body twisted restlessly against the smooth linen sheet. “Dale,” she choked. “Dale, please.” Her pleas faded away into a soft moan as another climax rolled through, slower, sweeter.
He drew away from her after the last wracking moan escaped her lips. “Why did it take me so long to find you?” he asked quietly. “What did I do to deserve somebody like you in my life?”
“…what?” she asked, her voice husky and thick, her eyes befuddled.
A grin tugged at Dale’s mouth. Nothing stroked a man’s ego like making a smart mouthed sassy woman speechless. Leaning over her, he cupped one hand over the wet heat between her thighs, dipping inside her swollen quivering entrance, he eased one finger inside her body, shuddering himself at the feel of her. Just as slowly he withdrew, then entered her again. And again. Repeatedly, until with each entry she was rising up against his hand, meeting him with her hips.
He felt her tensing again and he pulled away. “I’m going with you this time,” he told her, tearing open his jeans, spreading her thighs wider and lowering himself atop her. Her tightly beaded nipples pushed into his chest, her hands clutched convulsively at his shoulders. Her satin soft skin met his and Dale stifled a groan. Her thighs opened and her knees came up, one on each side of his hips, so that from groin to mouth, their bodies touched.
“Don’t lock me out, Lauren,” he pleaded as she tried to turn her head away. Catching her face in his hands, he held her gaze as he entered her slowly, bit by bit, until he was buried inside her quivering sheath to the balls. “Don’t lock me out.”
Her heavy lidded eyes fluttered but she kept her gaze on his. “It’s always been you,” she whispered, as the pressure within her loins spread through her body. Her heart beat wildly against his, his hips recoiled and plunged into her arching body. “Always you.”
Unbelievably moved, he lowered his head and took her mouth in a long deep kiss, hooking his arms under her shoulders and holding her tightly against him. She convulsed around his rigid cock as he pounded hard into her. “I can’t wait,” he rasped against her ear, reaching down with one hand to draw her knee higher.
“Then don’t,” she replied only seconds before another climax exploded in her, a keening cry rising from her lips as she went into spasms around him, milking his flesh as he emptied himself into her, filling her with his seed while he roared out in agonized pleasure.
* * * * *
Hours later, he rose, pulling the blanket over the sleeping body of his wife, his dream lover, his best friend. She slept curled up on her side, one arm tucked under her head, lashes fanning over her ivory cheeks. As he watched, she turned onto her back, flinging one arm over her head, frowning in her sleep. Restless. As calm as she was, or seemed to be, on the outside, at night, the restlessness came through.
; Why hadn’t he known it was Lauren?
In the stillness, the answer came to him.
He had known. He had always known. Why else would he have asked her to marry him? Why else would he have wanted that baby so badly? Somewhere inside, he had remembered.
Just as somewhere inside, he had already loved her. There was no other reason why he would have touched her that night. As much as he loved women, loved touching them, lying with them, tasting them, he didn’t bed his friends. He never had. Sex changes things, he had always known that.
Dale opened the door to Krista’s nursery, flipping on the light just as weak little snuffles started echoing from the crib. He scooped the baby out just as her eyes fluttered open. Warmed bottle in hand, he carried her over to the rocker, easing down into it as Krista latched onto the bottle with an avid mouth. He started to lean his head back.
And froze.
There was a canvas standing next to the window, one he hadn’t seen before.
It was a portrait of him, holding Krista.
Lauren had captured them in the rocker of the nursery, shafts of sunlight falling across part of his face and Krista. Her tiny little hand was reaching up for his face and he was smiling down at her. Looking for the signs now, he could see how closely Krista resembled him, the shape of her face and eyes, her hairline and the dimples in her cheeks.
His daughter.
Nobody looking at the picture, even without knowing the two, could deny that the two were linked by blood.
She had been planning to tell him.
How long had she been working on this?
A soft noise in the doorway pulled his attention from the portrait and he looked up, meeting Lauren’s eyes. She met his eyes somberly, before closing her eyes briefly. Then she looked at the baby and said, “She’s gone back to sleep.”
“She didn’t wake you, did she?” he asked gruffly as Lauren gently took Krista from him, kissing her brow before settling her back in the crib.
“No. I woke up out of habit, I suppose.” She turned then, crossing her arms tightly under her breasts. Studying the painting, she said nothing.
“It’s…it’s beautiful,” he finally said.
“I’m glad you like it,” she replied politely. “It’s your birthday present.”
“Thank you. I know you don’t think you do very good portraits, but it’s unbelievable,” he said. Reaching out, he traced his finger down the painted edge of Krista’s cheek. “How long did you have to work on it?”
“A month or so, I guess. I was only able to work on it a little at a time.” She still didn’t look at him.
“She looks like me.”
She turned her head at that, meeting his eyes with hers shuttered. “Of course she does. We’ve already established that’s she’s your daughter.”
“I meant that anybody who has eyes is gonna see the resemblance,” he said, shoving splayed fingers through his hair. His blue eyes were dark with frustration and confusion. “I thought you weren’t planning on ever telling me.”
“I wasn’t planning on it. But if you ever asked, I wouldn’t have denied it.” With that, she turned her eyes back to the painting, studying it as if she had never seen it before.
“This was your way of telling me,” he murmured out loud, realizing. She had been planning on telling him. “Why didn’t you just come right out and say it?”
“Haven’t we already been over this?”
He moved closer, until he was standing behind her, and rested his hands on her shoulders. Together they stared at the picture in the dim light. “You’re not going to lose me, Lauren,” he whispered in her ear. He moved his arms down to her waist, dragging her stiff body against his. “I’m not going to get tired of you. I’m not going to abandon you. Nothing short of death will ever take me from you. God willing, we’ll grow old together, die together.” Hugging her tightly against him, he told her, “You don’t have to be afraid to open up to me.”
A slight tremor wracked her body and she covered his hands with hers, but said nothing.
“Will you trust me, Lauren?”
She stood with her head lowered, chin tucked against her chest. He gently turned her to face him, lifted her chin to his. A single tear fell to trickle down her face as she stared up at him, her eyes dark and miserable. Dale felt his heart twist inside his chest. “I’m not going anywhere, Lauren,” he promised, lifting his hands to frame her face.
Lauren stared up at him, those ice blue eyes seeing clear down into her empty heart. “Dale, I don’t know how to handle this,” she whispered, her lower lip quivering slightly before she firmed it. “Nobody’s ever loved me. I’ve never loved anybody. I was so sure I’d mess it up, and I did.”
“We both did. And it’s nothing we can’t fix. But, baby, I can’t do it alone. And I can’t do it if you keep thinking I’m going to leave sooner or later. Isn’t that what’s been going on inside that head of yours?”
A dull flush turned her cheeks pink and she averted her eyes. “Yes,” she whispered. “I mean, why would you stay? Nobody else ever has.”
“I’m not them, Lauren,” he told her, wanting to shake her. “I’m me. Just me. The man who loves you, who loves our daughter.” He brushed her tumbled hair back from her face. “I’ve got a wife who loves me, a beautiful sexy wife. A sweet, beautiful little girl. Why would I leave?”
Lingering panic kept the tension in his shoulders, hardened his face. The doubt in her eyes would tear them apart. He knew it. He could fight most anything that threatened their marriage. But he couldn’t fight her fears. They went too deep. “Lauren, if you don’t believe in me, in us, we won’t last. You know that.”
Her hands came up to grip his. “Dale…” Tears gleamed in her eyes, making his image blurry. She blinked and the tears fell, his image cleared. And the love she saw in his eyes, the determination was like nothing she had ever seen.
“I will never willingly leave you, Lauren,” he swore again, his hands moving down to grip her shoulders. Her hands crept up, linked behind his neck. “Never.”
She shuddered as a sob burst from her lips, tears she had kept hidden for fifteen years. Swiftly, Dale scooped her up and carried her to their bedroom. Hot tears fell on his neck as he cradled her on his lap on the edge of the tumbled bed. “Believe in us, Lauren,” he whispered in her ear, stroking her hair with a soothing hand. “Believe in me.”
Harsh sobs tore from her, wracked her body. The torrent of grief, of hopelessness, of loss filled the room. Her fingers kneaded at his shoulders, clutched desperately at his hair as she cried helplessly. The sobs eased into sighs and her tears dried. Unbelievably weary, and unbelievably embarrassed, she raised her head, forced herself to meet his eyes. “I don’t think I ever cried over her leaving me,” she told him, rubbing the back of her hand against her cheek. “My father…I really don’t remember him being around much. Just my mother. And then she was gone. I didn’t even matter.”
Stroking her hair back from her face, Dale said, “You’ve always mattered to me. Always.” Sliding his fingers through her hair, he drew her closer, until his brow touched hers. “Believe in us, Lauren.”
She closed her eyes and rested her aching head on his shoulders. His strong arms came around her and held her close against him. “I believe in us, Dale. I think I always have. I just have to work on believing in me.”
With a relieved smile, Dale kissed her hair. “I believe in you enough for both of us.”
EPILOGUE
Two Years Later
The door flew open, revealing Dale standing in the doorway glaring at Lauren with irritated eyes. “You forgot me at the damn airport again.”
She raised her head from the couch where she and Krista had been napping. Face flushed, eyes heavy with sleep, her eyes wandered from Dale to the clock and back before they widened. “Dale, I am so sorry,” she whispered, moving carefully, trying not to wake Krista. It was exhausting, trying to get a rambunctious toddler to nap. “I fell asleep…”
“Did not,” she replied. “You didn’t even try to call.” Turning around, she threw a light throw over Krista and headed out of the room, beckoning for Dale to follow. “Besides, I had a very good reason.”
“Yeah. I saw. Taking a nap. Good reason to stick me in a damn cab.”
“Dale, don’t sulk. You look just like Krista when you do. And I had a good reason, too, for taking that nap.”
He had been reaching out to swat on her butt when he started thinking. “A good reason?” he asked, his gaze thoughtful and curious as it trailed a path down her slender body. “How good a reason?”
With a coy smile, she tossed over her shoulder, “I’m pregnant.” And with a laugh, darted out of the room.
“Pregnant…” Dale whispered. Stunned, he dropped down on the nearest step. “Pregnant.” Studying his hands, he replayed what she had said in his head.
And then, with a whoop, he was on his feet, dashing up the stairs after his long legged woman.
The End
ALSO AT ELLORA'S CAVE
SWEPT OFF HER FEET
By Camille Anthony
FORBIDDEN
By Anastasia Black
IN HIS OWN DEFENSE
By Ann Jacobs
ELLORA’S CAVE PUBLISHING, INC.
www.ellorascave.com
Her Best Friend's Lover Page 21
