But then she was in his arms, and all other thought fled. It was all he could do to close the door quietly instead of slamming it in his haste.
The reasoning side of his brain gave one last warning, to remember what she’d been through and take care. But it was the last cogent thought he had before his body took charge. He would take care and give more than he took because that’s the way it should be, but take he would. He felt as if he’d been holding back since the first moment he’d looked into those green eyes of hers, and now he was done with it.
She came at him so hungrily it became elemental in an instant. The slow savoring he’d on occasion imagined would have to wait; this was an urgency beyond anything he’d ever felt. It was impossible not to respond in kind when the woman you’d been panting for made it so damn clear she was as hot for this as you were.
As hot for you as you were for her.
She was kissing him, not hesitantly but ardently, sliding her tongue over his lips and then farther, licking, tasting, until a vision of her doing that to other parts of him nearly put him on his knees. He tasted her in turn and felt his entire body tighten even more.
Her hands slid over him, her fingers stroking over his chest and down his belly, and for the first time in his life he realized how utterly arousing it could be to be the one who was practically naked, while she was still clad in a sweatshirt and heavy winter socks.
And then she was doing exactly what he’d imagined, following the paths her hands had traced with her mouth, her tongue leaving trails of fire over his skin. He had to slow her down or this was going to be, humiliatingly, over before it really started. He knew the perfect way. He reached for the hem of that sweatshirt and tugged. He hated the simple logistics that said to get it off her he’d have to break that kiss, but the temptation of baring luscious female curves topped all else. And then she was helping him, pulling off not just the sweatshirt but the T-shirt beneath it.
He groaned aloud as her breasts were bared now to his gaze, and for his hands. With a split second of thanks that she’d already shed her bra and he didn’t have to deal with it, he reached to cup them. She sucked in an audible breath the moment he did, and when he ran his thumbs over her nipples, she moaned. Then she slid her hands down his back and beneath his waistband. Almost without his volition, he lowered his head to take her mouth again in the instant her hands cupped his ass in a possessive way that snapped the last thread of his restraint.
He ripped off the pajama bottoms she had on and an instant later had his boxers on the floor beside them. And then she was backed up to the door, pressed against him from lips to knees, and he knew he couldn’t wait another second. When he reached to lift her legs she practically climbed him in her effort to help. He barely managed to stroke her with a finger, and when he did, it was so obvious she was slick and ready for him, he swore under his breath.
“Ash,” he whispered.
“Hurry,” she whispered back.
“Those shots you were getting,” he began.
“From a real, honest doctor. It’s all safe. Please. I’ve been waiting for you all my life.”
He broke. Drove forward, surging into her to the hilt. This time the oath wasn’t under his breath—he nearly shouted it in the same moment she cried out his name with a resonance that echoed in his ears. She was hot, tight and fit him perfectly. And he realized he’d underestimated the power of being wanted so fiercely in return.
He began to move because he had to, stroking her from within as he held her against the door. She wrapped her legs around him, shifting to take him deeper, adding the motion of her hips to his thrusts until it took everything he had to hold back the boiling tide.
And then she cried out his name again, then again in a tone of wonder, and her body convulsed around his, gripping, squeezing until that tide breached his control. Even his vision dimmed, and he was barely aware of holding on as waves of incredible sensation billowed through him, and with an echoing groan of her name in turn, he poured himself into her.
Nearly drained of strength, it was all he could do to keep her safe as they slid downward. His heart was still hammering, and he heard another low moan from her as, limbs entangled, they collapsed on the floor.
And he’d never wanted anything in his life more than to simply live in this moment endlessly.
* * *
“Morning-after regrets?”
Ashley gave him a sideways look as he lay on his side next to her, his head propped on one hand, studying her rather intently. It was morning, barely—she could tell by the light. Although the sun rose late here this time of year, so timewise it was probably later than it felt like. The foldout bed in the media room was more comfortable than she would have expected. More importantly, it had served their purposes sufficiently after he’d gently picked her up and brought her to it, making love to her all over again, the second time slower and more gentle. The third time had been a sleepy, cuddling affair that turned heated quickly, so quickly it had taken her breath away.
“I should be asking you that.”
“After the most amazing night of my life?”
She let out a relieved breath. “It was all that and more.”
“If it got any better, every circuit would be burned out instead of temporarily fried,” he said with the crooked grin she had seen far too little of.
“But you were the one who...wouldn’t. Before.”
“It wasn’t right.”
And there was Brady Crenshaw in a nutshell. “Thank you.”
“For what? Waiting?” The grin again. “If I’d known what I was missing—”
“I meant for the first nightmare-free sleep I’ve had in longer than I can remember.” She grinned back at him then, delighting in the feeling of lightness that she’d awakened with. “For what time we slept, I mean.”
“Well, if I’d known it would help that much...” he said with a suggestive leer.
She reached for him then, unable to quite believe her life had turned around so completely that this beautiful man was hers to touch, to stroke, to kiss. And this time, with a boldness she had never expected to feel again, she took the lead, doing that touching, stroking, kissing, until tough, strong Brady begged her to end it and she straddled him, taking him as deep into her as she could, savoring the stretching, the fullness, moving until all control shattered and he grabbed her hips and locked her to him as he arched up beneath her with a groan of her name in the same moment she gasped out his.
When she could move again, after collapsing atop him, he held her gently in place. “Stay there. It feels...perfect.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “It does.”
For a few long, silent moments, she just lay there, listening to the steady beat of his heart, feeling the heat of him warming her enough to make up for the fact that the covers on the bed had long ago been tossed aside.
And then he spoke quietly into the dim, dawn light. “Tell me about the nightmares.”
A little to her own surprise, she didn’t cringe at the thought. Telling Dr. Andler—her mind sparked with anger at just the name, but she set it aside for the moment—about it had been beyond difficult, but now, to Brady, it came out easily.
“It’s really only one, with slight variations. In it I’m a child again, in a dark house, and down the hall I see a monster walking toward my father’s den. I know it’s bad, that I need to warn him, but I’m frozen, I can’t even scream.”
Brady muttered an oath under his breath and pulled her tighter against him, and it comforted her more than anything had since this living nightmare had started. More than anything had ever, she realized. It felt more than right, it felt perfect.
“What does the monster look like?” he asked.
She gave a weary shake of her head. “I never see more than a shadow.”
“But you know it’s a monster.”
“In the dream, yes.”
“Is it an animal? Like a tiger or a snake? Or something unreal, like a dragon or hydra?”
“A troll or an ogre, maybe,” she said dryly.
“So it’s a human shape? Or could be a human exaggerated by a child’s fear?”
She blinked. She hadn’t really thought about it in that way. “I...suppose so. But whatever it is, it freezes me to the spot, and I can’t move or even scream.”
He hugged her again. “I’m sorry, Ash. I can’t imagine going through that every night.”
She shook off the chill that thinking of the nightmare always brought. “Not last night,” she said with a smile as she stroked a hand down his rib cage and savored the way he sucked in an audible breath and clenched his jaw. And using everything she had learned of him during the night, every way he liked to be touched, every caress that drove him wild, she pushed him to the edge until he rolled them both over and drove into her fiercely, just as she’d wanted. Craved. Needed. As she never had before.
And then, amazingly, she slept again. And the nightmare did not come.
Chapter 32
“That,” Quinn said, “is a nice sound.”
Brady, who had just come out of the shower in time to hear the laughter from the kitchen, looked that way in time to see Hayley and Ash grinning at each other over the rims of two coffee mugs.
“Yes,” he said. “The best.”
“I don’t even care if we’re the subject.”
Brady blinked. “You think we are?”
“Given how things changed overnight, I’d say it’s a good guess.”
“Changed—” He broke off when he realized what Quinn meant. He knew, which meant Hayley also knew, where Ash had spent most of the night.
The other man was looking at him steadily, but there was nothing of accusation in his gaze. “Not a surprise, Crenshaw. I am amazed—and impressed—that you waited until she had herself back again.”
Brady stared down at Cutter, who had arrived to sit at—actually on—his feet and grin. There was no other word for the dog’s expression. “Had to,” he muttered. “Would’ve been...wrong.”
“Yes. And that you waited says a great deal about you. You ever get tired of wearing that badge, come see me.”
Brady’s head came up sharply. Saw in Quinn’s level gaze that he meant it. “I’ll keep it in mind,” he said. “I like what you do.”
He looked over at Ash again and this time caught her watching him. And the smile on her face brought last night crashing down on him until all he wanted to do was grab her and cart her back to his bed.
Quinn laughed. And at Brady’s sharp look, he merely gave a half shrug and said, “Cutter told us this was coming almost from day one.”
Brady looked down at the dog again. It wasn’t only a grin, it was a smug grin. An expression he would have laughed at applying to a dog just...two and a half weeks ago.
He looked back at Quinn. “What are you talking about?”
Quinn proceeded to tell him of a one hundred percent track record Cutter had in another realm besides helping and comforting people. If it had been anyone other than Quinn Foxworth, he wouldn’t have believed a word of it. Even then he couldn’t help saying, “You’re as reality based as I am, but you believe it?”
“Ten for ten is pretty solid evidence.” Quinn grinned at him. “Make that eleven for eleven, now.”
“But he’s—”
“A dog. Yeah. I noticed.” Brady gave him an exasperated look. “I get it. I know how hard it was for me to believe. And,” he added pointedly, “how much better I felt when I just gave in to the inevitable.”
Quinn was having far too much fun with him over this. “Why do I get the feeling you enjoy this?”
“Because it reminds me of what it was like to find Hayley.”
Quinn’s voice had gone quiet, and the expression on his face as he looked over at his wife sent a flood of memories through Brady. Memories from last night, accompanied by a rush of heat. It had been the most amazing night of his life, and he wanted a long, unbroken string of them. Nights spent with Ash in his arms, the woman who had come to him last night, wounded but whole, the heavy burden she’d been carrying shifted, free of the fear at last. True, she had an entirely new ordeal to deal with, and he couldn’t imagine a worse betrayal. Except the kind she thought she’d been dealing with, the betrayal of her own mind.
But now he knew she had the capacity to do it.
More importantly, she knew she had the capacity to do it.
* * *
“Hope they don’t get stuck somewhere,” Brady said as the Foxworths drove off into the snow that had just begun to fall again. “So Hayley just suddenly wanted to go skiing?”
“They don’t even ski.” Ashley said it blandly, smiling inwardly as Brady looked bewildered.
“But she said—”
“They wanted to give us some time. Alone.”
He went still. She saw his expression change, saw the sudden anticipation. But he only said, “Oh.”
She wondered why, then understood he, being Brady, wouldn’t assume anything. Given the situation, that her life was so tangled, he was still leaving the decision to her. He wouldn’t make the first move. And she found herself longing for the day he did; then she’d know the worst was over.
But for now she merely said, “And they left Cutter in case we...needed direction.”
Brady glanced over to where the dog was plopped on his bed, watching them alertly. After what Ashley had told him about how the dog had practically herded her to his door last night, he wasn’t sure he doubted anything he’d heard about the animal anymore.
“I’m beginning to think that dog isn’t really a dog,” he muttered.
“Hayley says she won’t be surprised if they find out one day he’s an animagus.”
Brady blinked. “A shape-shifting wizard?”
She smiled, widely. “You really have read those books.”
“You didn’t believe me?”
She lowered her gaze. “I thought maybe you just wanted to make me feel better.”
“Well, I did, but it’s true.”
“How about now?”
His brow furrowed. “What?”
She looked up at him again. “Want to make me feel better now?”
The heat that flared in his gaze sent her pulse racing. “I’ve been wanting that since we got up.”
He might not make the first move, but once she had, he wasted no time. And she was suddenly reminded—as if she’d needed it—just how strong he was when he swept her up into his arms and carried her back to the bed they’d vacated just a couple of hours ago. And he proceeded to prove to her that he knew exactly how to make her feel better, taking his time until there wasn’t an inch of her that didn’t feel treasured. Loved.
She shied away from the word even mentally, in her own version of not wanting to assume. She simply gave herself over to the pleasure of his touch, the stroke of his hands and the feel of his mouth as he sucked at her nipples while stroking the very core of her, which was already hot, slick and ready. But when he moved next, it wasn’t as she expected. He replaced the fingers that had been caressing her with his mouth and tongue, until she was biting back a scream at the sheer intensity of it. And then she remembered she didn’t have to hold back—the house was empty except for a dog who’d made it clear this had been his plan all along.
She screamed Brady’s name as she burst into heat and sensation. And she had never felt anything more perfect than when he slid into her as her body was still convulsing, driving her upward again before the last throes had even faded. And when he let out a low, heartfelt oath as he shuddered above her, she grabbed him and held on, wanting him so deeply inside her that he would stay forever.
* * *
Brady woke to Ash curled up in the
curve of his body, his arm around her just under the soft curve of her breasts. To his amazement, after the day they’d spent, his body made clear it was ready for more. He’d thought the need would slow down now that it had been sated a bit, but obviously he was wrong.
Or he had underestimated the power of the attraction between them.
But she was sleeping so soundly that he didn’t move, didn’t want to wake her. Peaceful sleep had been nonexistent for her for a very long time. So he lay still, only shifting his head so that he could look out the window, where he could see snow was still falling, albeit lightly.
He wondered what Hayley and Quinn were really doing, since the skiing was evidently a pretense. Maybe, when this was over, he should offer to take them skiing, if they had any real interest. He was no instructor, but he’d taught a youth class once and it had gone fairly well. Maybe—
There was a loud, sudden crack of sound, familiar to mountain-raised Brady as a branch overloaded with snow giving up under the weight. But he had only a moment to categorize the sound before another wiped all other thought from his mind.
Ash screamed.
The sound of it was a physical thing to him, stabbing him as if it were a blade. He pulled her hard against him, wrapping around her as it came again.
“Ash, it’s all right. Wake up, it’s all right.”
She went rigid against him. He shifted so he could see her face. Her eyes were wide-open, and the look of horror in them stabbed him all over again.
“It’s all right,” he repeated. “The noise was just a branch breaking with all the snow.”
“The nightmare.” She shuddered, and he felt it ripple almost violently through her. Apprehension began to steal over him; there was more to this, he could sense it. But he tried again to calm her.
“It’s okay, Ash. There’s no monster, it was just your dream.”
Operation Mountain Recovery Page 21
