Tie Me Up, Tie Me Down

by Sherrilyn Kenyon

  He took hold of both her arms, forcing her to face him fully. "I was a stupid kid, Savannah. I loved you so much. I would have given up everything for you, and that scared the shit out of me. We had always been so hot and heavy. We couldn't get enough of each other.

  "God," he said with a heartfelt ache in his voice, "I remember all those nights we made love, the way you would slide over me, your body so soft and warm, your mouth hungry against my skin...your hands pumping me. We'd do it in the shower, on the kitchen floor, the hallway, the living room. I remember that time at school when we pushed the emergency stop and did it in the elevator. We just..."

  He shook his head. "I don't know. But when it stopped, I thought you didn't want me anymore and it ate me up inside. Maybe I was just looking for an excuse when I found you and Kyle together."

  Kyle had become as much her friend as Donovan's, perhaps closer to her as Donovan got more and more famous, too busy for his childhood friends. And for her.

  She had felt shut out, and he had not been the only one who was jealous. She'd had to watch for years as first the high school cheerleaders and then the buxom college cheerleaders fawned all over him, flirting with him.

  How could she compete with such women? She was just a skinny, unworldly Southern girl, a memory of a life he wanted to leave behind. And all those emotions and fears came to a head the day that Donovan found her in Kyle's embrace.

  She could understand why he had been angry. Had she found him in another woman's embrace, she would have felt the same. But the way he closed her out, as though she had never meant anything to him--that she could not forget. Or forgive.

  "Let me go." She tried to move around him, but he remained firm.

  "I let you go once and it was the biggest mistake of my life. I'm not giving up so easily this time."

  Without warning, he leaned down and kissed her, and Savannah felt her body instantly respond, just as she had when they were randy college students, unable to keep their hands off each other.

  Her good sense told her to stop, but she couldn't. Her brain wouldn't slow down to wonder about what she was doing or feeling; she just wanted it to go on.

  Her hands slid up his soft cotton shirt and twined unconsciously in his hair, still silky and long.

  The newspapers had labeled him one of the top ten most eligible bachelors, a model with a helmet and cleats, an Adonis for that hair and his spectacular physique.

  He was, but it had been the boy who lived inside the famous football hero that she had loved.

  He pressed into her, his arousal a hard, hot length against her belly, and she couldn't seem to stop herself from moving against him, from reveling in the low moan that rumbled up his throat and the way his hands tensed against her sides, gripping and releasing, testing her flesh.

  He pushed her back against the railing, lifting her to sit on the edge, her legs spread around his hips, her pelvis ground against his.

  He took hold of her hair and tugged her head back, his mouth moving along her neck, lavishing kisses on every piece of skin, making her shiver.

  His lips trailed down the V of her blouse, a few small buttons the only thing keeping them from going too far. But it had gone too far already.

  Savannah bit her lip as Donovan's big, warm hand settled on her breast, cupping, massaging, lightly teasing her nipple, which pressed insistently against the thin, lacy cup of her bra.

  She was a grown, responsible woman with a child and a fiance, but her mind balked at acting that way now. She had been responsible for so many years.

  Her hand instinctively moved down the waistband of Donovan's jeans, sliding over his erection, his mouth slanting over hers with urgency.

  He groaned and lifted her off the railing, her feet dangling inches from the ground as he cupped the back of her head and continued to kiss her as he moved to the front door.

  Savannah barely heard the screech of the old hinges as he carried her over the threshold and into the house.

  It brought her back to the time when the house was alive with family and friends, and the days of Mississippi State and future disasters were yet to be seen. They had still been innocent and free.

  The back of her legs brushed against the sofa, covered with a white sheet, which Donovan yanked off before he laid her down.

  Her arms were still looped around his neck, pulling him down with her and over her, his weight heavy but welcomed.

  She felt like a virginal teenager as he shifted to the side so that he could move his hand to the top of her blouse, the first button sliding like butter through the hole, the second giving way just as easily.

  At the third, Savannah covered his hand with hers, her mind fighting to regain some measure of common sense, though her body protested every step of the way.

  She couldn't allow Donovan to just walk back into her life and turn it upside down. He had done that in college and she had thought she would never recover. She could not risk her entire future--again--on a man who would most likely walk out on her. She needed stability. A home.

  Happiness.

  She deserved it now. And not only for herself, but also for her daughter.

  "Stop."

  "Just give me tonight, Savannah," he begged as his fingers feathered over a nipple, making her breath catch in her throat.

  "Why?" she demanded, struggling to her elbows. "So you can come back and ruin my life again?"

  "No." He brushed a piece of hair from her face. "So I can have one last memory with you, if this is all I'll ever have. We both need to get this out of our system. There's still something between us, no matter how much you believe you hate me. I think this moment says differently."

  "This moment says I temporarily lost my mind. Nothing more." She pushed at his shoulders and fought to sit up, her head swimming from his kisses.

  His hand slid firmly up her spine and under the hair at the back of her neck, gently sifting the long strands through his fingers, making goose bumps rise on her arms. "Doesn't it mean anything to you that I still have feelings for you?"

  Instead of his words being a salve to her heart, all they did was cause pain. "No," she bit out, rising to her feet and turning to face him. "Not now. Not all these years later."

  Her body quaked with anger and suppressed desire. "God, you think a kiss and a smile will make everything better? You waltz back into my life when you feel like it and think I'll stop everything for you? Well, I won't, Donovan. Do you understand? I won't. Tomorrow I will be Mrs. Jake Marshall--and you will be forgotten."

  Chapter Four

  The slow clapping cut Savannah's dramatic exit short. She whirled around to see Donovan leaning back against the armrest of the sofa, his body negligently draped across it, his jacket having been divested somewhere along the way, exposing his crisp white shirt and the hard plane of muscle beneath.

  "That was a gifted performance of outrage. Oscar-worthy, in fact."

  Savannah fisted her hands at her sides, struggling to keep from throwing something at him. "You think this is funny? You could be arrested for kidnapping."

  "Are you going to press charges, Savvy?"

  "Don't call me that."

  "Bother you?"

  More than he knew. "I'm getting married, Donovan. Do you understand? This is not a game."

  Jake had been there for her when Reese had nearly died from a virulent strain of the flu. He had stayed with her every step of the way.

  During that long night, Savannah had realized she had feelings for him. Maybe those feelings were more of gratitude than love at first, but Jake had become an anchor for her, a safe harbor, and she had needed that.

  "Guess now you'll live safely behind your picket fence, planting your garden and taking stray cats into your perfect life."

  His assessment hurt and angered her. "That's right. So why don't you let me get back to it?"

  His hands reached up to bracket her face. "Because, Savannah, I still love you."

  Emotions churned wildly inside her, feel
ings and needs that she had believed exorcised long, long ago. She pulled back. "You don't mean it."

  "I do. The moment I saw you, I knew I had made a mistake in pushing you out of my life. But when I found out you were pregnant..." He shrugged and glanced away. "I figured you had moved on. I was so damn sure I was over you. But I wasn't." His gaze slid back to her. "I'm not. I know my timing isn't good--"

  "Isn't good?" A bubble of irrational laughter rose up in Savannah. "That's an understatement. Your timing stinks."

  She dropped down into a chair and gripped one hand in the other to keep them steady. She would not fall apart now.

  "So what do we do now?" he asked as silence descended. "Do we pretend this never happened? That I never said what I said? Should we go so far as to believe that we were simply a figment of the other's imagination and that what we shared was just a dream?"

  Savannah leaned her head into her hands. "I don't know."

  Donovan kneeled before her, taking her wrists into his hands. "Look at me."

  Savannah hesitated, then glanced up.

  "Stay with me tonight. One night, Savannah. I can have you back in the morning before anyone knows you're gone. All I want is this little bit of time with you. A few hours."

  "So you just want to have sex with me, is that what you're saying?"

  "I'm saying that I want to be with you. I came home for you, Savannah."

  Savannah wanted to put her hands over her ears. "You came home because your illustrious career abruptly ended. You're going through a crisis, a trial of faith. Perhaps you've even found yourself. But none of that matters. It's too late, Donovan. There is no going back."

  Slowly, he rose to his feet and Savannah knew her barb had struck home. It should feel good, unleashing all that anger she had pent up, but it only made her feel small and petty.

  He turned from her and went to stand in front of the bay window overlooking the lake.

  "I guess I deserved that." His voice was edged with hurt and it pained Savannah to hear it, but she could not own his hurt. She had enough of her own.

  He shifted to face her and sat on the windowsill. "Is Reese my daughter?"

  His question hit her like a bucket of ice water.

  She stared at him as numbness settled over her body. "I don't understand what you're talking about."

  "Yes, you do. Your lack of an answer and the look on your face tell me everything. Shame on me, right? Deep down, I think I knew that you could never cheat on me. You loved me too much." He paused. "I'm pretty sure you still do."

  Savannah sprang up out of her chair and headed for the door, desperation chasing at her heels. As her fingers wrapped around the doorknob, Donovan's hand snaked around her upper arm, whipping her around before pinning her up against the door.

  "Not so fast. You owe me an explanation."

  "I owe you nothing."

  "We'll see what the courts have to say."

  Savannah's heart missed a beat. "You'd take me to court?"

  "Do you think I won't? You've kept my child from me. You had no right."

  "I had every right!" Savannah cried, fear constricting her chest into a painful knot. "You didn't want to hear anything I had to say. God forbid something should derail your football career. How many times did I hear you say that kids were a hindrance, that they would only get in the way? In the way of what, Donovan? Your fame? Your ego? Or just in the way of being free of me?"

  "That's bullshit and you know it."

  Savannah laughed bitterly, a single tear coursing down her face, which she swiped at. "Is it? Think back. Remember how absorbed you were in everything and everyone but me. I went to Kyle because I needed someone to talk to, someone who would listen. I almost wanted him to come on to me, because I was so hurt and angry at you. I wanted to get you back for not caring. But when a moment presented itself, I couldn't do it. I couldn't hurt you or Kyle. You both meant too much to me."

  "Savannah--"

  "You nearly killed me, Donovan. There were days when I thought I couldn't live without you. But when I almost miscarried Reese, I knew I had to pull myself together. I couldn't lose the last thing that I had of you. I needed her. And she needed me."

  "She needed me too, Savannah."

  "Oh, please. You were with another woman by then. Remember Cara Hunter, the supermodel? I certainly do. I had to see the two of you in every magazine for months."

  "She was a friend."

  "Is that what they're calling it these days?"

  "I was hurt."

  "Well, sorry, I guess I should have shoved my own pain down and only thought of yours. I meant so much to you, after all."

  "I never wanted any of this to happen."

  "But it did. You closed me out and I couldn't bear to have you in my life as a part-time father to Reese, to have you come and go. I didn't want a world of weekend visitations and every other holiday and birthdays. I didn't want you to decide one day that you didn't want Reese, either. I couldn't bear it if she was hurt."

  "You think that little of me, do you?"

  Tears rolled down Savannah's cheeks in earnest even though she had closed her eyes to try to staunch the flow. "I needed you gone. Forgotten. That was the only way I could manage every day." She opened her eyes and looked up at him. "You can't take her away from me. I won't let you."

  His grip eased on her shoulders. "I'd never take her away, Savvy. That's not what I want." He dropped his hands and stepped back. "Christ, I don't even know if I could have been a good father to her. You're right, I was self-absorbed. I didn't realize it until my injury forced me to take stock of my life. Three months of being laid up kicks your ass right into a good bout of self-examination. It's not pretty to look at the failures of your life, to realize you took the wrong road." He gently wiped a tear from her cheek. "But I'm glad I was forced to realize that. If it hadn't, I wouldn't be here with you."

  "Please, Donovan--"

  "Do you love him, Savannah? Is he really what you want?"

  At that moment, Savannah didn't know what she wanted. She was so confused, and Donovan was too close, too dangerous to her senses.

  Her feelings for him had never truly died. They had simply lain dormant, buried as best as she could manage. Just seeing him had immediately brought those feelings to the surface, and only the pain of his previous defection kept them from spilling over.

  "Yes," she murmured in a tear-laden voice, "I love Jake." But never the way she had loved Donovan. And Jake deserved a woman who would love him completely, whose heart would not always belong to another man.

  But she could love Jake the way he deserved, given time. She would not allow Donovan's vows of renewed devotion make her doubt herself.

  "Will you at least let me see Reese?" he asked, looking suddenly tired and defeated.

  "Of course." She couldn't deny him any longer, and Reese deserved the truth. "About what I said earlier..."

  "It's water under the bridge now. What's done is done."

  He turned from her and walked away. Savannah nearly reached for him, her heart aching over what she had done.

  He didn't deserve this, no matter what had happened between them. But back when it was all happening, she hadn't seen it that way.

  For weeks after Reese was born, she had told herself daily that she would call Donovan, that he should know about his daughter, and if he told her to get lost, then she would have her answer and be free of any guilt.

  But one day had turned into another. Weeks became months. Months melted into years. The time never seemed right. Then she simply blanked out that phase of her life and continued on as though she had never known Donovan Jerricho.

  "So what do we do now?" she asked softly.

  "I guess I take you home. That's what you want, isn't it?"

  She had thought so--but now she wasn't so sure. Her heart felt as though it was dissolving into little pieces.

  "Yes," she answered, knowing she was doing the right thing. She faced the door and turned the knob, the
low keen of the hinges the only sound in the silence.

  Like a polite stranger, Donovan took her by the elbow and they walked in silence to his car, a low-slung, gleaming machine that seemed out of place amid the tall grass and chirp of crickets.

  He opened the passenger-side door for her and waited for her to get in. But something in Savannah made her stop, then turn, and take Donovan's face between her palms and bring his lips down to hers in a slow, sensual kiss that had her clinging to him in the sultry night air.

  "Savannah..."

  "Don't say anything. Please, Donovan--just take me back inside."

  Chapter Five

  Without a word, he did as she asked, his movements fluid as he lifted her into his arms, kicking the car door shut with his booted foot and carrying her back up the porch steps and over the threshold into the house, like a man carrying his wife.

  If he closed the front door, she didn't hear it. His mouth had returned to hers and he kissed her with such passion it took her breath away.

  Savannah felt reckless and frantic for him. She needed this time with him, needed to get him out of her system once and for all, she told herself as he carried her down a long hall.

  She knew this spot. It was his old bedroom, and it was just as she remembered it. In the corner sat the big mahogany bed, with its carved headboard and posts, which supported an extralarge mattress to fit his footballer's frame.

  At times during high school Donovan had hoisted her in through the window and they had lain in his bed, touching and kissing.

  She had been a good and proper Southern girl then and had never let it go too far. But he had introduced her to pleasure without intercourse, when simply having his mouth on her nipples could bring her to orgasm.

  She hadn't thought anything could be better--then he had shown her all the joy she could derive from having his hand between her legs.

  And when she turned eighteen, she finally discovered the ecstasy of having his big, solid body between her thighs; knew the true meaning of being one.

  She had craved that connection between them like some wanton, sex-starved woman. He would just laugh and snatch her up in his arms, always prepared to give her what she wanted--just as he did now as he eased down on top of her, his fingers entwining with hers, spreading her arms wide then moving them over her head as he pressed against her, his arousal hot and hard and tempting.