She was watching and listening to me. She was so damn beautiful it almost hurt. Her big eyes were thankfully softer than they first had been when she’d opened the door, but they were still guarded.
“I…” she started to say, and I pulled her to me. She stayed silent, her lips parted slightly. I moved my face right in front of hers, mere inches away from her lips.
“I’ll probably mess up again. I’m not a perfect man, not anywhere close to it, but I like you. I like so many things about you. I wouldn’t even know where to start. That kiss this morning…” my voice softened, my head leaning down so that our lips were a breadth away from each other. “Best kiss of my life,” I whispered and felt the exhale of a small gasp escaping from her.
“John…” I felt the whisper of my name from her lips and my body tightened even more, a warmth spreading over me unlike anything I had ever felt.
“Whatever you’re running from, I will make it better,” I promised her, and her eyes closed, but instead of her closing the tiny space between us, she took a step back, her face almost in pain.
“Anne?” My voice was beyond recognition and my heart stilled in my chest as I watched her open her eyes. Sadness, fear, and raw emotion were shining through her expression.
“You can’t,” she hissed.
“I can,” I told her, my hand going to the back of her head, cupping her scalp, her long hair brushing the outer side of my hand, “I don’t make promises I can’t keep, and I am telling you, no matter what it is, I will make your situation better. I will fix it.”
“Why?” She stepped back, away from my touch, her hands over her chest, protecting herself, “Why would you want to do that? Why me? You don’t even know me!”
“Thank fuck for that!” I stupidly blurted in frustration at her unexpected reaction.
“What is that supposed to mean?” She scowled.
“It means, Kitten, that if I knew you more than I already do right now, I’d probably be certifiable! You tie me up like a fucking pretzel!”
“I do not,” she huffed, a fire burning in her eyes that made her even sexier.
“Yeah, you do, and guess what? I fucking like it! I look forward to coming home. To seeing you, to talking to you, and to holding that little girl in there.” I pointed towards the shut bedroom door. “You don’t know this, but I’m not that kind of man. I’m the kind of man who, if he’s in the mood for company, doesn’t date but pays for it. I’m the farthest thing from a saint, Kitten,” I started telling her, knowing that I was screwing it all up, but she had to know.
“John…” She stepped forward, but I was the one who stepped back this time.
“You need to know the kind of man I am, Anne. I have to be crystal clear about it. I’m the kind of man who laughs and makes fun of poor saps that have their balls twisted up over a woman. I’m a ruthless beast, who will do whatever it takes to…”
“Shut up,” she surprised me by saying loudly and walking up to me, her hands on my face. I was breathing hard and watched her chest rise up and down just as quickly as mine. My eyes went back to hers, and I couldn’t stop talking.
“You need to know. I’ll do whatever it takes to get what I want. No woman has ever had me as tied up in knots as you. Never! Not once. I know I'm not good for you and I know a man like Nick Riley would be a better bet than me. That alone proves my point. I’m a selfish son of a bitch, Kitten,” I growled. Her eyes widened, but she didn’t flinch.
She wasn’t scared. She stayed still, holding my face in her hands, her chest pressed against mine, and my hands didn’t miss the golden opportunity of going around her waist.
“Watching you two laugh twisted me in ways I didn’t like.” My voice was deep. Leaning down, I skimmed my nose against hers. “I want to be the one to make you laugh. I want to be the one sitting next to you,” I clipped childishly and watched as an adorable smirk fell over her face as she shook her head. “What?” I tried to hold on to my frustration, but it was near impossible.
“Why didn’t you?” She asked, smiling, her lips twitching, her eyes completely amused by my obvious idiocy.
“What?” I asked, frowning at her.
“Why didn’t you sit by me? After you introduced me to everyone, you somehow always ended up across the yard from wherever I was. Staring at me,” her dark eyebrows were scrunched together.
“I wasn’t staring.” I shook my head, and she laughed. Her laughter was like a melody, instantly taking a heavy weight off my shoulders. Her body shaking in my arms felt so damn good I didn’t want her to stop.
“Yes, you were.” She rolled her eyes at me, and I tightened my hold, our bodies now flushed up against one another. I knew she knew the effect she had on me.
“I was not,” I argued back, even though I completely had been.
“I know you were because I was staring at you!” She exclaimed, her cheeks bright pink.
Both of us were breathing harder than normal, wrapped up in one another's arms. We were inside our own world, my hardness poking between us, but she didn’t shy away.
One of my hands went to the apple of her cheek, my eyes searching hers for something.
Permission?
I was looking for permission to kiss her, but I was not stupid enough to think she would give it easily.
“I’m really sorry I was a jackass and embarrassed you. I hurt you. I should let someone like Nick Riley whisk you away and protect you, but I don’t want to.”
“What do you want?” She asked, tipping her stubborn chin up at me, but her eyes gave her away. I let the pads of my thumb trace her lower lip.
“I want to kiss you again,” I admitted, and she licked the pad of my finger. The feeling of her warm tongue made me close my eyes and grip her harder.
Anne
“You don’t seem like the kind of man to need permission.” My words surprised me and not only because of the breathy way they came out.
They were bold and unlike me or at least the me that I’d allowed myself to become. I couldn’t look away; my eyes were transfixed on his stubbled neck, and I shivered at the thought of licking his skin. When I watched him swallow hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, the images in my mind were crystal clear: licking his neck, the feeling of the sexy stubble of his face against my lips and tongue, the deep rich sounds he would make, each image was so damn clear I could feel the wetness at my center, and all I could do was clench my thighs tightly together.
“I’m usually not.” His voice was hoarse with need, his body tight, the sexual tension only heightening the current surrounding us, “But you’re different.” His eyes widened with his admission.
“How?” My voice was trembling. I was turned on and feeling vulnerable at the same time.
When I’d opened the door and he’d said those two words, it had melted away my anger and terrified me. I wasn’t the best judge of character when it came to men, but there was something about the man in front of me. Being around him made a team of butterflies flutter in my stomach, but at the same time it made me comfortable in my own skin.
“You make me want things.” His lips kissed the corner of my mouth, my hand splayed open over his hard chest.
“What things?”
“Everything.” He nipped my lower lip, and I moaned.
“Like?”
“I want to fight with you.” He licked the spot he’d nipped, “Does that sound stupid? I want to fight with you, make up with you.”
His lips moved to the corner of my own again, then he tilted his head, so that his forehead was touching mine, his nose grazing mine. It was more than hot, it was primal, almost feral, and it made me want to squirm.
“I want to kiss you a thousand and one different ways, each in a thousand different spots on your body.” I closed my eyes as my mind wrapped around every sensation he brought to life with his words and the sincere way he was saying them.
“I want to do mundane every-day things with you like laundry and dishes… fucking vacuum and have you
put your feet up. I want that so bad that when I picture it, I can see your smile clear as a damn summer day in my mind.” His deep voice was breathy as he moved again, lowering his face into my neck. My skin was covered with endless goose bumps.
“John…” I whispered, his name a prayer on my lips, and he breathed in deeply at my neck, then exhaled slowly.
“I want to make you laugh so hard your sides hurt." His tongue flicked the bottom of my earlobe, and I leaned deeper into him. My skin was on fire.
“Are you funny?” I asked, my mind fuzzy with sensation. His soft chuckle made me shiver.
“Sometimes.” His voice was low and husky, his mouth moving to my jaw, “I want a chance, Anne.” His forehead was now against mine.
We were so close that we were inhaling each other’s air, and it was such a beautiful intimate moment I had no idea how we even got here.
“What are you asking for exactly?” I needed to know, needed to know to know wha exactly it was he wanted from me, needed him to say the words so there would be no confusion later on. “A chance at more… with you, Kitten, I want a chance to see where this goes.”
“What about Zoey?” I asked, trying to somehow keep my sanity and not give in to what my body was yelling at me to take.
“I want to watch her laugh, too.” He moved away, his head semi-tilted as he looked at me. “You two are a team, I get that. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” His smile washed away, regret filling his eyes. “Forgive me for being an asshole, Anne.” He was sincere and opening up in a way that his usually grouchy self hadn’t done before.
“Apology accepted,” I told him, and he wrapped his arms around me, his scent and warmth comforting me, soothing me.
“Thank you,” he said, sounding so damn grateful that all I could do was nod. “I should probably go. It’s pretty late, huh?” He lamely asked, his cheek against mine, and I smiled.
“Stay,” I whispered like an idiot, and his body stilled.
“I didn’t come for…”
“I’m not offering.” I looked at him. “Stay,” I repeated.
Why? I didn’t know. I just knew I felt better with him around. Safer. Safer? I almost wanted to laugh at the idea of having the big bad beast of the hill staying overnight somehow making me feel safer, but there was no other word for it.
“I might kiss you if I stay,” he told me, and I laughed, my heart skipping a beat.
“I might kiss you back if you do.” Stepping back from him and taking a deep breath, I extended my hand and looked at him. He didn’t hesitate in grabbing it and walking with me to my bedroom.
Chapter Twelve
John
My heart was pounding in my chest in a way that it never had, not even when I was a teenager.
Standing in the darkened bedroom with Anne in front of me holding my hand, I was surrounded by her scent. Her hand was pulling me towards the bed, and I kicked off my shoes as I watched her lie down on the bed.
I hesitated getting in bed with her. Can I lie in bed and not try to get in her pants?
"John?"
"How far?" I blurted out, my tone harsher than I had intended.
"What?" She asked, sitting up in bed, her knees bent up to her chest, her face tilted, and even in the darkness, her eyes were sparkling with amusement.
"How far can I push the boundaries?" I asked seriously, and she was now grinning at me.
"Are you afraid of sleeping with me?" She asked, now clearly amused by me.
"Anne."
"I'm not a virgin, John." She told me, raising a pretty little eyebrow.
"I didn't think you were with being Zoey's mom and all."
"Then what's the problem?" She asked, and I wondered how the idea of lying down, sleeping all night with her in my arms, could somehow terrify me yet have my body actually crave it at the same time. Swallowing hard, I looked at her.
"I..." I was at a fucking loss for words, was what I was. I watched her face the moment she realized my problem.
"You're scared." Her voice was full of wonder. How could she not realize how damn terrifying a creature she truly was?
"What? No!" I childishly answered, and the room filled with the sweet sound of her soft laughter that slowly disappeared. I sat at the edge of the bed by her feet and looked at the floor.
Tonight's apology did not go the way Mike had suggested.
Not anywhere close.
If I’d followed Mike’s directions, I wouldn't have even stepped into the house. I wouldn't have told her the things I had. I wouldn't have held her in my arms and I sure as hell would not have been invited to sleep with her.
I wasn’t sure if I was an idiot or a damn genius.
"John?" She was kneeling on the bed in front of me, a sweet expression on her face. "You can go home. I mean, if you don't want to stay. If you changed your mind, it’s no big..."
"I've never done this," I admitted, feeling like the world’s biggest jackass.
"Are you a virgin?" She asked jokingly, and I scowled at her.
"I've never done the sleepover thing." Anne was looking at me like she couldn’t decide if I was being honest with her or if I was joking.
"You're forty-three." The shock in her voice made me wince.
She was never going to want to take a chance on me.
I was forty-three and intimacy had somehow eluded me. I couldn’t tell you how many women I’d had beneath me, on top of me, and in front of me, but simple things I had no clue how to do. Panic spread through me. Do I want a chance?
I wanted everything with her.
Shit.
I looked at her. Really looked at her, at her beauty in front of me, and I realized that somehow, she spread a calm through me. Well, shit. When did this happen? How had I not let myself realize it before it was too late? Not that I was actually sure what ‘it’ could be.
"I…”
“It’s okay. I get it.” Her soft hand cupped my jaw, and I leaned down and kissed it.
“I’m not a good man,” I admitted like a damn moron without a filter.
“John.”
“You should tell me to go home,” I kept going. SHUT UP! A voice inside of my head yelled at me.
Both of her hands were now holding my face, her lips hovering over mine, and my own breathing and hunger picked up.
"No one is perfect." Her voice was soft. "You keep saying you're not good, but I've seen what bad looks like. You don't have that in you.” Her eyes sparkled as she hypnotized me with her huge eyes. “You kept a woman and a baby in your home. You looked after us and had no idea what you were getting yourself into."
"Anne," I tried to argue, but she kept talking.
"I've lived with a monster," she whispered, and my body froze. I was holding myself completely still, knowing that what she was admitting wasn’t easy. Still touching my face, her cheeks a slightly brighter shade of pink, she continued, "I didn't know he was one until it was too late and even then I tried, John. I really, really tried." Her huge eyes were glassy, and all I wanted to do was find that little worm that hurt her.
"I tried to get away. I did.” She closed her eyes, the emotion bared in them keeping me speechless. “The first time he… I left....then I went back. I believed he would change. I know it sounds stupid, but I really did. I believed it, deep in my soul.” A tear escaped, and I brushed it away immediately with my thumb. “I was wrong. I was stupid and naïve. The second time he hurt me, I left. Maybe if he weren’t who he is… he made it impossible to leave. My point is, I've lived with a monster. You might be beastly once in a while, growling about things here and there, but you, John Davenport, are no monster."
"What did he do to you?" I asked her, my voice strained, and she shook her head.
"It doesn't matter. Not anymore. When I found out I was pregnant with Zoey, I planned and escaped. It took him a year and a half to find me."
"Does he know about..." I started to ask, but Anne shook her head furiously.
"No! He..."
"Tell me his name and I'll take care of it," I growled, and she once again surprised me. Leaning in, she kissed me. "That’s not why I shared. My point is you're not a bad man."
"I'm not a good one either," I retorted, and she gave me a small smile.
"No one’s perfect,” she instantly replied, and hope streamlined through me. “Stay," she requested again, and I couldn’t help nodding, leaning in, and kissing her lips softly. Tenderly. Before things got out of control, I stood up and started to unbutton my dress shirt when she shook her head.
“May I?” Her voice was thick, and I nodded.
I was about to embarrass myself when I watched her lick her full lips as she moved closer to the edge of the bed, then kneeling on the bed, her hands reached out and starting at the bottom of the shirt.
Slowly, her delicate fingers worked the buttons of my shirt. The small pads of her fingers grazed over my stomach, and I shut my eyes tight. Feeling the sensation of her hands on my skin, I couldn’t help but let my head fall back. My heart was roaring in my ears, and all she was doing was fucking touching me and not even sexually. Not really. But every touch from her ignited me unlike anything I had ever experienced. She pulled my shirt completely off. One of her hands stayed at my shoulder, the other roaming over my bare chest with feather-light fingers, and I miraculously found the strength to not push her down on the bed and have my way with her.
“Wow,” she whispered into the silence, and I opened my eyes. She was looking at my body with wide eyes, biting her lower lip, “I didn’t think men like you really existed other than in like Wolverine movies, and even then…” she rambled, and I laughed.
“Wolverine movies?” I asked, smiling, enjoying her touch and observations.
“Yeah, you know, from the X-Men, the comic book character with the claws?”
“Yeah, I’m familiar.”
“Your body is way better than the guy’s in the movie,” she blurted out, both her hands shifting away from touching me and immediately covering her mouth, and I roared with laughter. I was laughing hard, trying to stop when I noticed she was frowning, but when she noted I couldn’t seem to stop, her cute scowl melted into a smile. Gasping for breath, I grabbed the sides of her beautiful face and kissed her.
Davenport Harbor (Six Degrees Book 3) Page 8
