by Linda Kage
They made love to each other's mouths, diving deep in the recesses of their souls as they mated, tongue to tongue, breath to breath. Ellie couldn't seem to get close enough and clung to him, clutching his shoulders for dear life. He growled out a sound of similar frustration and picked her up, setting her on the countertop to fit himself between her thighs and press close to her heat.
She gasped and wrapped her legs around his hips, cradling his erection to her core.
"It's you," he rasped against her mouth between each kiss, his hands crazily running up and down her body as if to convince himself of that very fact. "It's you. God, Ellie, I can't believe it's really you."
"Boston," she moaned, throwing her head back so he could nibble his way down her jaw, using both teeth and tongue to lavish her throat.
Reaching the base of her neck, he buried his nose in the top opening of her blouse and held her tight a moment as he breathed in her essence. "Jesus, you still smell the same.
Your hair, your clothes, your skin."
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"So do you," she said, kissing his jaw and running her hands through his thick black locks.
His fingers fumbled as he opened her shirt. "You and your buttons," he panted, sounding impatient yet tenderly amused.
"I swear, I bought you an entire wardrobe to replace all the buttoned garments I used to rip off you."
She grinned and nipped her teeth at his earlobe. "You did."
And she'd kept every one of them, storing them away in a box at the back of her closet.
She expected him to lift his face, look her deep in the eyes, and tear the two sides of her shirt apart...for old time's sake. But when he pulled back to grin at her, his fingers slowed, carefully continuing to release one fastening at a time. After watching himself work for a moment, his eyes slid up, and their gazes connected. She felt the punch of longing deep in her gut.
The last button came free, and Boston easily separated the two sides, letting out a breath as his gaze swept over her.
"Why didn't I ever realize how much more sensual it was to savor my prize and unwrap it slowly...one button at a time?"
Ellie shook her head, unable to speak, her mind blank of words. His blue gaze held her captivated.
"You're stunning," he said and lowered his mouth to press a warm kiss to her chest, right where her heart beat against the swell of her breast.
Stirred by such a sweet act, she skimmed her fingers over his cheekbone. He closed his eyes and rested his face on her chest, pillowed by her breasts. He wrapped his arms around her waist, and she hugged him back. They remained that way 132
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nearly a whole minute before his muffled voice came from her cleavage.
"These grew."
His hand came up to investigate the change in her breasts.
He pulled one free of its bra cup to study its fullness a moment, gently rubbing his thumb over her hard nipple before he dipped and took the throbbing peak into his mouth.
Ellie gasped and clutched the back of his head tight.
"Boston. Oh, God. Please."
After moving his attention to her other breast, his fingers found the top button of her slacks. He drew the zipper down.
Tensing with eager expectation, Ellie wanted to thrash her head from side to side and moan out, yes, yes, yes. But all she could do was tighten her grip on his head as he bit down on her nipple. She arched her hips up when he slid his hand over her stomach and into the waistband of her panties.
His fingers grazed her pubic hair until they encountered an old scar. Pausing, he broke free of her breast, looking confused. Then he leaned forward to examine the mark. After frowning at the foreign blemish that hadn't been there the last time he'd breached her panties, his eyes lifted in question.
"C-section," she answered his silent query. "I'd planned on a natural birth, but...there were complications."
Boston's eyes snapped open wide...alert. "Are you okay?"
She smiled, loving his concern. "I'm fine. Now."
"Now?" Latching onto that word, he wrinkled his brow in concern. His gaze fell to her scar, and his fingers traced it again in a gentle, loving caress. "What happened?"
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"Placenta previa. Problems with the placenta," she added at Boston's blank look. "It wanted to come out first, which would've put Cassie in danger. So, they gave me a spinal block and cut her out. It wasn't as bad as it sounds," she was quick to tack on when his face paled. "The doctor handled it beautifully, and Cassie was delivered just fine."
But Boston didn't look reassured. "I wish I could've been there."
Ellie swallowed and closed her eyes. When he pulled his hand from her underwear and zipped her slacks closed, her lashes shot open.
He looked distant and reserved as he took a step in reverse. "I should've been there, Ellie."
"Boston," she started. She wanted to reach for him but didn't dare.
As if he could read her thoughts, he shook his head and turned away, running his hand through his hair as he put distance between them. "This didn't turn out like I thought it would." He sighed and glanced blindly across the kitchen before he sent her a leery, untrusting look. "I guess we're just going to have to get used to my attraction and learn to deal with it. Because I won't ever touch you again."
With that, he turned on his heel and strode from her kitchen.
From her house.
From her life.
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Chapter Eight
After hearing the front door open and close, Ellie yanked her top back together, slid off the counter, and hurried toward the living room. The room was dark, so she felt safe in going to the window and lifting a curtain. From the streetlamp's glow, she watched him walk stiffly yet steadily around to the driver's side of his Infiniti.
In the sparse lighting, he looked so much like the boy with whom she'd fallen in love. His hair was still pitch black and his form was that same slim, sleek build. It tore her up to see him like that. Once upon a time, he'd smiled whenever he'd seen her. And now...now he scowled as he sent one last glare up at her house before sliding into his car. It was almost shocking how drastically their relationship had changed.
But the one thing that remained the same and surprised her the most was his physical response to her. She couldn't believe they'd both gotten turned on so easily. It wasn't a good kind of shock, though. His instantaneous attraction to her had been one of the main things that had drawn her to him. The man could've had any girl he wanted back in college. Heck, he still could snag any woman. But he'd wanted Ellie. It'd been so flattering she'd been powerless to deny him anything.
The fact that this hadn't changed in ten years was going to make her struggle that much harder. Ellie closed her eyes and snorted out an ironic laugh. Harder. Oh, yeah, she could say that again.
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Outside, his car engine started. Her eyes flew open. As he pulled away from the curb, she rubbed her fingers over the ache in the center of her chest. There was something else that hadn't changed. It still hurt to watch him leave.
Gritting her teeth, Ellie dropped the curtain. As the cloth fell over the window, she backed away and slid her hand down until she clutched her churning stomach. She continued to step in reverse until the backs of her legs bumped the sofa.
Though she wanted to sink into the soft, comforting cushions and cry, she opted to walk down the hall and check on her daughter.
Surprisingly, Cassidy was fast asleep. Though she hadn't done so in years, Ellie slipped into the room and tiptoed to the bed. She pulled back the covers and crawled onto the mattress with her baby. Cassie's sweet little-girl smell enveloped her and she
closed her eyes. Instantly, she smiled, thankful she was here, thankful she'd ended up so blessed.
Ellie hadn't lived an easy life. Since the time she was eight and her parents had died in an automobile accident, she had grown up in a home where food came sporadically, if at all.
She'd lived with her deceased grandmother's older sister, and Aunt Eadie didn't have the greatest memory. Ellie had practically raised herself.
From the moment her daughter was born and that tiny little life had been placed in her arms, totally her responsibility, she'd sworn Cassie would never live the way she had. Her daughter would always have a meal on the table, and she'd always have a structured, orderly life where she could take part in as many after-school activities as she 136
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wanted. Plus she'd grow up in a neighborhood where she could play out in the open in a safe environment and attend a nice, reputable school.
So far, Ellie had been able to provide all of that; she wasn't about to lose slack now. Most of her good fortune had come from luck. The house she owned, or at least would own after another twenty-five years of payments, could actually be accredited to her louse of a boss. Winston's brother, Dr.
Mendel Young, had wanted to sell his guesthouse for years and when it went on the market, Winston mentioned it to Ellie.
Like a dog to a bone, she'd jumped on the chance to live next door to doctors and bankers. It didn't even matter that her home was only an eighth the size of every other house on the block. It was hers and didn't have wheels under it. She adored it.
She lived in a beautiful, safe community with a wonderful neighbor friend in Dr. Young's wife, Nora. Even their son, Keller, was a blessing to have nearby. From the moment the two children had met, they'd been best friends.
So yeah, Ellie pretty much adored this life she'd built up all by herself. She might've had grand dreams when she'd lived in Tennessee, but she'd never really thought she'd get this far. Hard work and pure determination actually did pay off sometimes.
As she listened to Cassidy's even breathing, she was helpless but to remember the man who had helped her create this gift. It was like meeting him for the first time all over 137
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again. She'd fought so hard not to like him, not to fall for him. But she'd failed miserably.
She couldn't let that happen again. She refused to trip into Boston Kincaid's seductive web one more time. This round, they were enemies. It wouldn't do to lose sight of that.
He wanted to take her daughter.
Remembering the look on his face, however, when he'd seen Cassidy for the first time and the way he'd treasured her body tonight, touching her like he'd actually missed her, Ellie gnashed her teeth even harder. Closing her eyes, she swallowed back the guilt over keeping father and daughter apart. Though she tried to stop it, her mind wandered further into the past, back to Cassie's conception, back to when those good times started to turn not so good.
It was early April, and Boston was in a mood. He often became irritable and tightly wound when he had a big test or a paper deadline to make. The man was the ultimate worrywart. Ellie teased he was going to have an ulcer before he hit twenty-five. But his mood swings had never turned her off before. She'd always delighted in the fact she could pull him out of his doldrums. That was one of the reasons she'd been so drawn to him. Because he'd been so positively affected by the mere touch of her hand.
As one who'd never been comfortable with getting close to other people, she could curl up to Boston and have his body humming in seconds. It was unreal how near she always wanted to be to him. He was like a drug, and she'd become addicted. So addicted, in fact, the first time he'd pulled away from her had felt like a bad overdose.
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She went to his apartment to visit. It was a rainy Saturday afternoon. Though she'd been scheduled to work, another waitress had begged to switch shifts with her. So, Ellie unexpectedly had the entire day off. She could've caught up on a little homework. But she went to Boston instead.
After tapping on his door, she heard his muffled call, "'S
open." So, she grabbed the handle and entered.
He sat on his bed, one leg tucked under him, the other hanging over the mattress as he tapped his toe on the floor to the tune on the radio and worked from an open textbook in his lap.
He glanced up briefly. When he saw her, he didn't smile as he usually did. In fact, he looked a little sick. His face drained of color, and a haunted expression crossed his features so quickly Ellie convinced herself she'd imagined it. Still, warning bells went off.
"Hey," he said stoically and immediately dropped his face to return his attention to his homework, tapping his pen against the textbook.
"Hey," she murmured in reply, closing the door behind her and easing closer to his bed. Something was wrong, ergo, she immediately wanted to fix it and soothe him back into being the guy she loved so much.
"I got off work today. Angela begged to switch schedules so she could go out with some new guy tomorrow night."
"Hmm," he responded, not even bothering to sound interested.
Wanting to cheer him the quickest way she knew how, she sat down on the mattress and scooted closer. "Anyway," she 139
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went on. "I was thinking...since I have the entire afternoon off..." She left the invitation open ended.
Spotting a lock of his hair obstructing his view from reading, she reached out to brush it out of his eyes. But before making contact, he shifted his face away. Ellie's fingers froze and her body constricted with pain. He'd never rejected her touch before. Swallowing, she quickly pulled her hand back to her lap.
He glanced over. When he saw the hurt on her face, his eyes filled with regret, and he opened his mouth as if to apologize. But then he forced his gaze away and mumbled, "I really need to study."
"I'll help," she offered and once again reached out, intending to slip his book off his lap. She'd grown accustomed to helping him study. And he'd always gratefully appreciated her efforts, especially when they did the strip off, where she peeled of a piece of clothing for every question he answered correctly.
But for a second time, he rebuffed her and jerked the book away before she could get it. "Damn it, Ellie," he snapped and lifted his face to send her an irritated scowl.
Her mouth fell open; she could only gape at him in agonized surprise.
His annoyance fell flat when he caught her gaze. He gritted his teeth as if supremely conflicted. Then he sighed and closed his eyes, letting his head fall back to bump against the headboard.
"Look, I just want to be alone and study this for a while, okay." His tone was mildly apologetic. Though the word 140
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"sorry" didn't cross his lips, he opened his eyes and said it with his expression.
Ellie had no idea what was wrong, but she was vividly aware of the fact that this was the first time she hadn't been able to pull him from a mood. It shocked and scared her and made her think she'd done something wrong, something to upset him. Not wanting to look clingy and beg him to talk to her, she nodded wordlessly and scooted off the bed.
"I'm sorry I bothered you," she murmured and hurried from the room. She ran all the way back through the lazy rain to her dorm room, where she shut herself inside and wept the rest of the afternoon.
Boston appeared the next day. Once again, dismal weather filled the campus with a slow, miserable warm rain. Ellie had dried up from her tear fest and was doing homework when the soft knock came. After scooting off her bed, she went to the door and checked the peephole. Her heart about thumped out of her chest when she saw Boston standing there, his hair glistening with raindrops.
Pulse racing, she flipped the deadbolt and flung the door open. He lifted his face, and th
ey both froze, taking a good ten seconds to just stand there, soaking in the sight of each other.
Finally, Boston asked, "Want to go for a walk?"
Neither seemed to care how wet it was outside. Ellie merely bobbed her head and answered, "Let me put on some shoes."
He stayed in the hall and watched her through the open doorway as she plopped onto the floor and jerked on a pair of 141
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sneakers. The fact that he didn't come inside told her things still weren't kosher. But Ellie didn't care. He was here. He was attempting a reconnection.
She assumed he'd tell her what was wrong, what she'd done that had upset him. She'd been wracking her brain for twenty-four hours, trying to think up something she might've said to displease him. But she couldn't think of anything. All she knew was that she loved him, and thinking he was upset with her hurt her to no end.
Ellie was surprised when he remained strangely mute as they started their walk. He didn't seem to want to talk. He only wanted to walk.
So, they walked.
It was ten minutes into their stroll before he even took her hand. Still no words were spoken; he merely slipped his damp fingers through hers and held on. Ellie closed her eyes briefly and tightened her grip in quiet support. Another ten minutes passed. He led them to a deserted memorial park and into a thick copse of trees off the beaten path.
When he slowed to a stop, Ellie looked up. He turned to her slowly and blinked as if surprised to see her.
"You're all wet," he murmured, realizing it for the first time. He lifted his hand and wiped a stream of rain off her cheek.
Her heart warmed. "So are you," she told him and brought her hand up to mimic his actions.
He closed his eyes and moved his face against her fingers, delighting in her touch. Lightly catching her wrist, he held her 142
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hand still as he pressed his mouth against her palm and kissed her, licking the rain off the inside of her fingertips.
Ellie's loins tightened and her spirits lifted. "Boston," she whispered.
He inhaled loudly, smelling her scent. When he opened his eyes and looked at her, she felt the zap in every pore of her being.
