His gaze never left her face. He studied her features
as if trying like hell to make out a foreign language. His gaze moved over her face, her mouth, her eyes, and settled there. "I'm breathing, aren't I?"
"There's more to living than simply breathing, Jack."
"And I'm supposed to just forget that kid?" he muttered thickly. "Forget what happened in that alley?"
She watched the pulse beat at the base of his throat and felt the thundering pounding of his heart against her own.
"No," she said, her voice softer now, "being who you are, you couldn't, even if you tried." She scooped one hand around to cup his cheek and felt his jaw twitch beneath her palm. "But you might try remembering that the child you killed was trying to kill you." She shifted her hold on him then, and tightened her grip on him, sliding one hand up to thread through his thick, black hair.
"And Jack, if all you're doing is breathing ... then the boy did kill you. You might as well have stayed in that alley."
"You don't get it," he said, staring down into her eyes. "Every time I close my eyes, I see it all again. It plays out, just like it did that night, and I try to change it. Try to make it different. And I know it's a dream and still I think, maybe this time. Maybe this time, it'll be different."
"But it never is."
"No."
"And how long are you going to punish yourself for surviving?"
One corner of his mouth lifted into a reluctant smile. "Now you sound like Sean."
"Smart man." Carol smiled up at him. "I knew I liked him."
"Sure. He's smart 'cause he agrees with you."
"Right." She kept that smile on her face, even when her insides trembled. Even when she wondered if he was going to step back and away again. If he was going to turn his back on her and tell her to mind her own business. Because if he did, she was going to fight him.
"And I should, too."
She nodded. "In a perfect world."
"World's never been perfect."
"True."
"But some nights," he said softly as his gaze moved over her features like a caress, "are closer than others."
His gaze never left her eyes. She felt the heat of them, the strength in them, pouring into her as she came close, angling her head for a kiss.
"I'm not the man you want me to be," he said, as her mouth stopped just a breath away from his.
"Maybe not," she conceded, knowing that this step she was about to take was a dangerous one. For both of them. "But you are the man I want."
He sucked in air and rocked back on his heels as if her words had delivered a blow he hadn't been expecting and wasn't quite sure how to deal with. His hands opened on her back and he splayed his fingers against her spine, and even through the thin material of her dark blue tank top, she felt his touch slide right down to her bones.
He bent his head to kiss her, then stopped. Hesitated. 'The baby—"
In the midst of the heat swamping them both, he could put the brakes on long enough to worry about the baby. Her heart swelled with emotions thick and rich. He didn't see what kind of man he was—but she did. And for now, that was enough.
She glanced at the baby monitor on the nearby table.
"We'll hear her," Carol said and slanted her mouth over his, putting Liz and everything else out of her mind. The baby was safe and just a soft cry away. But for now, Jack needed her more. As much as she needed him.
His mouth came down on hers with a fierceness she'd never known before and Carol held on for that fast slide into oblivion that she knew was headed her way.
He grabbed her and held her close, lifting her feet clean off the floor in a wild attempt to hold her tighter, more firmly to him. His arms came around her waist, her rib cage, and squeezed tightly enough that she could barely draw a breath. She hardly noticed. Carol wanted him close. Hard against her. Wanted to feel him come out of the shadows and back into the world he'd lost two years before.
Her blood still pumped hot and furious at the woman who'd cheated on him. The friend who'd betrayed him. And for the dead child who'd lost so much that losing his life hadn't seem like too high a price to pay just to belong.
But her mind couldn't keep up with the sensations coursing through her body, so Carol stopped trying to think. Stopped trying to make sense of the tangle of Jack's life and instead simply gave herself up to the need to be here. Now. With him.
Her heart ached at his hungry tenderness. Despite the anger still rippling through him, he held her with care. Took her mouth, her breath, her heart, with an innate gentleness that drew her to him despite her own best intentions.
She'd felt it coming for days. Probably from that first moment when he'd looked at her in Phoebe's office. It had been inevitable. And impossible. And more beautiful than she'd ever imagined.
She was in love with a man who was so caught up in the past that he couldn't see a future.
He tipped her back onto the bed, and Carol fell willingly, taking him down with her. The mattress beneath them bounced with their landing, then seemed to curve up around them, cradling them together atop the quilted comforter.
Burying his face in the curve of her neck, inhaling her scent, losing himself in the feel of her, Jack let himself dissolve in the sensations he'd only found with her. He dragged his hands through her thick hair and tangled his fingers in the soft strands. And a corner of his mind whispered a warning—that he was as tangled in her life as his hands were in her hair. But he didn't care. Didn't care about anything save the next kiss. The next stroking caress. The next soft sigh and whispered moans.
She was all.
She was so much more than he'd ever thought to find again.
She tipped her head back and he followed the sleek line of her long, almost elegant throat with his lips, his tongue. Tasting her, defining her, needing to know every inch of her body. Needing to become a part of a woman so much a mixture of warmth and humor and stubborn determination.
Carol Baker was so many women rolled into one. She got into his head, wormed her way into his heart, and was well on her way to invading his soul.
His hands moved over her body and he thought that he would know the feel of her anywhere. They'd only been together once and yet she seemed to have been branded into his memory. He touched and she shifted beneath him. She sighed and his heart lifted. She moaned gently
and everything in him went still and tight. He wanted her.
More than he'd ever wanted anything or anyone in his life.
And the wanting was killing him because he knew, at the core of him, he couldn't have her.
Levering up on one elbow, he stared down into those golden eyes that shone with such a warm light, he felt the glow of them down to the bottom of his soul. He felt the first tremors of something almost magical rock him and knew that he was walking a fine line. This woman had slipped too far past his defenses already. Soon, he knew, he'd never get her completely out of his system, even if he tried.
In the moonlit room with the crackle of a baby monitor the only sound, he knew he'd found something special. He only wished he hadn't found it too late.
"Jack?" She smoothed one hand over his cheek. "What is it?"
He deliberately cleared his mind. He didn't want to think. He only wanted to feel. God, it had been so long since he'd felt anything like the alluring ease she brought to him.
"Nothing," he lied and slipped one hand beneath the flimsy fabric of her tank top to cup her breast. His thumb dusted across her hardened nipple and a trembling sigh slipped from between her lips. He smiled. "It's nothing that won't hold until tomorrow."
"Good." She licked dry lips. "Because I really don't want you to stop."
"No worries there."
"Except," she whispered as she arched into his touch and sucked in a ragged breath. "You broke your last condom."
He smiled. "Smart-ass. Always a smart-ass." His hand
slipped down along her rib cage, across her abdomen, and beneath the waist
band of her soft cotton drawstring shorts. From there, it was just a fast slide toward heaven. He cupped her and she moaned through gritted teeth. He touched the damp heat of her, felt himself drowning and entranced, let himself be drawn under. "I bought more," he admitted. "God help me, I was hoping for this and bought more."
"Smart man." She lifted her hips into his hand.
"Sometimes." This wasn't smart. He knew that. He also knew if he didn't have her in the next few minutes, he'd die from the emptiness crouched inside him.
"Then stop talking and kiss me." She grabbed his face between her palms and drew his head down to hers. Tongues tangled in a wild dance of breathless anticipation. Blood roared, hearts pounded, and bodies ached.
Seconds flew past as they each tore the clothes from the other. Feeding the hunger roaring through them, they gave and took. Bodies brushed together in a sinuous dance that pushed them higher and higher, toward the goal that lurked just beyond their reach.
The air in the room seemed heated almost beyond the point of easy breathing. But the muffled sounds of skin meeting skin and hungry sighs were more than enough to sustain them.
Hunger roared up inside Carol. Fiercer, more demanding than before. She needed to show him, to let him see that she wanted him, all of him. She kissed his throat, his chest, she moved until she could reach more of his skin, running her fingers across his flat nipples until he trembled and she felt the rush of raw, sexual power fill her. She could do this. She could bring this strong man to a quivering peak. And she reveled in the knowledge, wanting to do more, feel more.
"Let me have you," she whispered, her voice muffled against his sweat-dampened chest.
"Ah, God, Carol," he murmured, "you do have me."
"More," she said, her voice a breathy hush in the still room. "I want more."
Carol pushed him over onto his back, and kept her gaze locked with his as she straddled him. His hands moved up to caress her breasts as she stroked her own palms up and down that finely sculpted chest until she knew every inch of him. Until she felt as though his body had been burned into the tips of her fingers.
"I want you now," he muttered thickly and she heard the need grating in his voice.
"Now," she agreed, but didn't shift with him, as he tried to roll her onto her back. "But my way," she said, rising up onto her knees.
"You're gonna kill me." He swallowed hard, keeping his gaze locked with hers.
She saw sparks of something hot and delicious flash in his eyes and Carol felt her own body quicken in response. He touched her. Touched her so deeply, she was sure she'd never be the same.
"Not until I'm through with you," she promised with a wicked smile that slammed into him hard.
His hands at her waist clenched spasmodically as she tortured him slowly by fanning the flames within. As she slowly lowered herself, taking him into her body, he groaned and clenched his teeth, straining to hold on. Dammit, he felt like a horny teenager, about to explode way too soon just from the damn thrill of her body accepting his.
Then she moved on him, languidly at first, her body sliding up and down on his with an almost liquid ease
that enthralled and tortured him and pushed him closer to the ragged edge of control.
She lifted her arms high, as if reaching for the ceiling, and her body, illuminated by the moonlight, seemed to glow with an inner fire that sizzled the air in the room until Jack could hardly draw a breath. She rocked her hips, taking him in deeper and then shifting, twisting as she rode him, increasing the pressure, doubling the intense pleasure bursting inside. Her body held his tightly, surrounding him with the kind of warmth he'd thought long lost to him.
Jack stared up at her, silhouetted in the moonlight, her breasts dusted with a silvery light that almost seemed to sparkle over her. She tipped her head back and sighed, her body still moving, writhing, still shaking him to his core.
All he could do was hold on. Yet he had to touch her. To reach down and stroke the heart of her, where their bodies joined. He felt her body kick in response and as the first trembling ripples of completion raced through her, he gave himself up to the glory of her and poured all he was, all he'd ever hoped to be, into her depths, knowing, believing, she wanted it all.
Minutes, hours, eternities later, Carol lay in the curve of his arm and relished the tingling sensation still shimmering inside her. She stroked one hand lazily across his chest and felt him tremble.
"You are trying to kill me," he murmured, "aren't you?"
She smiled against his heated flesh. "I told you. Not until I'm done with you."
He caught her hand in his and held it, his fingers closing over hers. "If you're not done yet, you're gonna have to give me a minute or two."
Carol tipped her head back to look up at him. "I can do that."
He stared down at her and something deep and dark flashed across his eyes. "You keep looking at me like that, and it's not going to take very long."
"Promises, promises," she teased.
"Now, that's a challenge." He rolled over, pulling her under him, letting her take his weight so that he could feel the sweet brush of her nipples against his chest. Her heartbeat pounded hard and beat in tandem with his own. He bent his head, kissed her, nipping at her bottom lip, feasting on it.
She trembled, lifted her hands to encircle his neck and—
Liz's soft, whimpering cry drifted from the baby monitor and over that gentle sound came Quinn's low-throated response. This time though, the baby wouldn't be soothed by her nanny-dog. The now plaintive wail built slowly until it speared through the room, demanding attention.
Carol smiled up at him.
Jack nodded, kissed her again because he needed to, then rolled over, freeing her. "Guess that's our cue that the party's over."
"Yeah." She sat up, pushed her hair back from her face, then looked over her shoulder at him. "Come with me."
He just looked at her. "What?"
"Don't be here alone," she said, stroking one fingertip along the middle of his chest, sending lightninglike bolts of expectation darting through his system. "Don't make me be alone."
"Carol—"
"Sleep with me, Jack. Hold me."
She leaned over him even as the baby's cries erupted in earnest and Quinn's high-pitched whine joined in for a concert in beleaguered harmony.
"Come home with me tonight."
He wanted to. God, he wanted to leave this empty apartment, if only for the night. He wanted to hold her as she slept and keep her warmth as a shield against the cold that would slide back into his heart the moment he fell asleep. Staring up into those eyes that had now shifted to the baby monitor with a stab of guilt shining in their depths.
She had to go.
He had to be with her.
It was simple then, wasn't it?
"I'll come," he said and felt the smile in her eyes slam home in him.
"Good." She kissed him, hard. Quick. Then grinned as she jumped off the bed and grabbed up her clothes. Clutching them to her chest, she snatched up the baby monitor and headed for the door. "Don't be long," she called out, then disappeared in a rush of movement that he would always associate with Carol.
Jack pushed off the bed, and grabbed his jeans from the chair where he'd tossed them hours ago. Tugging them on, he headed out right after her, eager now to be away from the shadow-filled room that felt so much emptier with her gone.
He stepped into the hall and instantly noticed the box sitting on the carpet runner outside his door. Addressed to him. Carol must have been bringing it over when she heard him in the throes of that nightmare.
His heart felt suddenly heavy in his chest and he
slapped one hand to the ache. He didn't have to look at the return-address label to know it was from Hal. He felt it as surely as if what was inside that box had reached out with bony fingers to give him a shake.
Gritting his teeth, Jack shoved at the box with his foot, pushing it along the floor and over the threshold into his a
partment. He didn't want to think about what might be inside. That part of his life was over, as he'd told Hal. Whatever flotsam had been left behind, he sure as hell didn't need.
Through narrowed eyes, he stared at the damn thing, half-expecting the flaps on the box to fly open and everything tucked within to jump out at him.
From Carol's apartment came the sound of the baby, still crying, and Carol's soft, soothing voice, calming her, reassuring Liz that she was safe. Loved.
Jack knew where he belonged—in the dark. The shadows. But he also knew where he yearned to be. He shot a look through Carol's open door and instantly felt the welcome of the light-filled rooms spear out to draw him in.
He wouldn't go back to the shadows—those memories—again tonight. Tonight, he would be with Carol. Shoving the box into his empty apartment, he temporarily closed the door on his past and stepped into the present.
And absolutely everyone who came into the store— from the customers to the UPS man—had to make silly noises at her. The man in the corner, Carol thought now, sliding him a quick look as he inspected the hand-carved stocking hangers, had even snapped a picture or two, calling Liz the cutest little elf he'd ever seen.
Darn it, she did look cute, Carol thought, smiling at the baby, dressed in her little reindeer-decorated jumpsuit. What had she done with herself before Liz? And how could she ever have thought she could get through her life without children in it?
Laying one hand gently atop the sleeping baby's tummy, Carol felt the rapid, steady beat of a tiny heart and knew that her world would never be the same. And it wasn't just Liz. It was Jack.
For the last week, he'd spent more nights in her bed than in his own. Habit had become routine and routine had become second nature. They laughed and talked and made love, and every day she thought she saw him opening himself more to the possibilities around him.
But there were still shadows in his eyes that hadn't lifted. Pain she couldn't touch and a part of him she couldn't reach. And she ached for him. She'd taken that terrifying first step with both Liz and Jack. She'd let them into her world and the two of them had taken it over.
Some Kind of Wonderful Page 18
