“Doug?”
His breath froze. Slowly he turned to face her. One of his T-shirts skimmed her thighs and rode up when she stretched to brush tangled hair from her face. As if realizing what she’d done, she lowered her arm to her side.
She smiled at him, a hesitant smile that filled him with the sunshine his soul craved. He told himself he didn’t need a lighter side to his personality, that he didn’t need Arielle.
His body told him otherwise.
“I woke up, cold,” she said, her statement sounding more like a question than an accusation.
Another point in her favor. She didn’t cling or make demands. While he had loved Kerry, those were two things she’d done. In the end, those had been the things from which he couldn’t save her. “You should be in bed,” he told Arielle.
“Yes.”
He was as drawn to her as a wave to the shore. And knowing he risked everything by venturing too close, he strode across the few feet separating them and placed his hands on either side of her head, spreading his fingers across her scalp, through her hair.
In seconds, her thighs straddled his, the softness of her breasts pressing against his chest.
“Are we going for another T-shirt?”
He smiled, needing her. “A matched set?”
“Hmm,” she said, her neck arching gracefully when his tongue touched the pounding pulse in her throat.
Her arms went around him, and she leaned into him, asking with her body. Her reaction to him, honest and raw, flared a response inside. He hadn’t had this much stamina since high school. Then again, he’d never met a woman like Arielle, a woman who’d put her own life at risk to save others from suffering.
That thought nearly paralyzed him.
The idea of Arielle putting herself at risk ever again... He gritted his teeth. Not while he was on duty.
Her hands trailed down his back, and she cupped her hands beneath his buttocks. He hardened. Denim chafed, and he wanted more of her...wanted what his T-shirt barely hid.
“You like romantic fires?”
“Doesn’t every girl?”
“Even if there’s no fire in the grate?”
“That means you’ll have to keep me warm.”
“Your wish is my command.” He grabbed a handful of black cotton and tugged it over her head, noticing the way her nipples puckered in the coolness.
He couldn’t resist laving them with his tongue, then easing a hand between her legs.
“Doug?”
“Yeah?”
“You’ve got too many clothes on.” She reached for the zipper, the drag against him chafing.
“Hold on,” he said, adjusting the front of his jeans.
“Now?”
“No time like the present.”
Between them, they pushed denim past his hips, and then she closed her hands around him. He swelled against her palm.
“You said later,” she reminded him.
“Yeah.” He’d meant it at the time.
“It’s later, Doug.”
She began to move her hand, leaning toward him to place a kiss on his neck. Her trust thrilled him....
Trust.
Hell.
He’d been caught unprepared. He was downstairs, and the protection was upstairs. “Arielle, hold it.”
“I am.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, asking for strength. Fine time for her to discover a sense of humor. “Not that,” he said. “The condoms are upstairs.”
“But can’t you...? I mean, if I, can you...?”
He was close to proving her right.
“Let me,” she said, echoing his earlier words.
Their limbs tangled, they somehow made it to the living room couch before collapsing. Her hand still around him, she trailed kisses over his chest, then lower.
He’d never met anyone like her, so giving, with no thought of receiving.
Her hair brushed his stomach, and strands trailed over his thighs as she worked her way lower.
Nothing would happen to her, he vowed. Her sunshine, her trust, her belief, all were like a lifeline to a drowning man.
Until recently, he hadn’t realized he didn’t know how to swim.
How much more, he wondered, didn’t he know? And how much more would she teach him?
“Is this right?” she asked.
He sucked in a deep breath. “Doug?”
“Yeah,” he responded, through clenched back teeth. “You’re doing fine.”
“Can we get a T-shirt?”
Her breath feathered against his groin. “Anyone ever tell you talk too much?” he asked.
“Fine. I’ll shut up.”
And she did, leaving Doug to whisper a promise...a whispered promise that she’d have her tomorrow.
Chapter 14
“Room in there for one more?”
“Doug?” she called back to him, through the shower curtain surrounding the claw-footed bathtub. She looked through the fabric, seeing his silhouette. Her heart thumped. He couldn’t be serious. The bath was barely big enough for one.
“Yeah, it’s me. Who’d you expect, room service?”
“I was hoping.” She pretended a sigh. “After all, I haven’t even had my first cup of coffee yet.”
Arielle hadn’t expected him to walk into the bathroom. It spoke of a new level to their relationship, of assumed intimacy. The knowledge that it couldn’t last filled her with pain, a pain she knew she had to hide.
“You mean you’d take coffee over me?”
Never. “Maybe when I’ve only had a few hours’ sleep,” she teased.
Bubbles frothed around her as she sank into hot water up to her chin. Her knees peeked through the foam, as did her toes, but nothing else showed.
He slid open the curtain, and steam seeped into the small room. He’d closed the door to the bedroom, making the atmosphere immediately intimate.
“Guess I’ll never make you the offer of coffee, tea or me.”
He stood there, bare-chested, with sleep-tousled hair in disarray that she longed to tame. She remembered his hair falling into unruly waves last night, when her fingers furled through the strands.
This morning, a forest green flannel shirt hugged his shoulders, making his eyes more vibrant than she’d seen them before. The scent of morning and the crispness of snow clung to him. He’d been awake for hours, she knew.
When the sunshine slipped through the bedroom window, she’d reached for him, only to discover that he’d risen. Feeling hollow and wishing he still held her, all the while telling herself she didn’t have that right, she’d hurriedly pulled on her panties and Doug’s shirt before heading for the soothing promise of a bathtub.
As she lay in bed, the remembrance of their lovemaking had sauntered through her thoughts. He’d been gentle, coaxing, wonderful. She knew she’d lock away the emotions, the memories, and store them for another time, when she could savor them.
She’d slept little, and he’d gotten up way before her. In spite of that, he appeared rested and ready for the day. Blue jeans snuggled around his waist, hips and thighs...just as she had been last night, and again this morning.
Her heart missed its next beat. She couldn’t believe how wanton she’d been, how much she’d responded to him, couldn’t believe how much the sight of him brought an instant awakening.
“You’re in luck, I come bearing gifts.” He held up his hand, fingers curled around the handle of a cup.
“That’s for me?”
He crouched near the tub, the smoky green of his eyes revealing the true lack of teasing there. His thighs were spread wide, giving her a view. More unsettling was the recollection of everything they’d shared. Passion and tenderness she’d only dreamed about were now a reality that made her yearn for more.
She poked her arm out to reach for the coffee, bringing them into closer contact.
“Blessings on you,” she said.
“So, how ’bout it? I’m sharing the last cup of coffee. You g
onna share your bath?”
She sipped from the coffee. It was hot and strong. She gulped as the accompanying thought scalded the roof of her mouth. Hot and strong...like Doug.
“Burn your mouth?”
If he only knew.
“Yesterday you used up all the hot water.”
She tried to concentrate on what he said. “Are you trying to make me feel guilty?” she asked.
“Appealing to your sense of justice.”
“Justice in...the bathtub?”
“My job is to deliver justice, ma’am, not quarrel with where the delivery takes place. Unless you’re too sore?”
“Tender,” she admitted, running her tongue across her teeth. “But not sore.” The conversation should have flustered her, but it didn’t. She offered the mug back to him. “Don’t want it splashing all over us.”
“Is that an invitation?”
She nodded.
He grinned, then took the mug, sliding it onto the vanity. From his waistband, he withdrew his pistol and placed it beside the coffee...a constant reminder of the threat. He’d been outside already, and as she headed upstairs, she’d heard the drone of his voice in the office.
If only she could pretend...
His jeans joined hers on the bath mat. His shirt settled on top of the pile, and she saw the evidence of his arousal.
“This is a small tub,” she warned him, sitting up and scooting back.
“Yeah. I know.”
“That’s why you suggested it,” she said, wondering how on earth they were going to make this work.
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“It’s also wet.”
Her insides melted at his husky words. This was the man she loved, a man she wanted for all time, a man with whom she shared only a brief interlude. She needed memories, as many as she could gather, to cherish on the long and lonely nights ahead...if she even had that much.
For now, though, he wanted her and she wanted him. That was all that mattered.
She pulled her legs closer to her when he stepped in, facing her.
He hissed in a breath. “No wonder there’s no hot water left when you’re done.”
“It’s not that hot.”
“Unless you’re a lobster.”
She scooped a handful of suds and tossed them at him, the white bubbles clinging to his legs, to his...
His eyes darkened with intent.
“I didn’t mean to do that.”
“Yes, you did.”
“Maybe just a little.”
“Maybe,” he conceded. “Come here.”
“Where?”
He extended a hand. “Here. I’ll collect my revenge in a few minutes.”
Trustingly she slipped her hand into his, dampness against dryness. Warm water swirled around their feet and calves, and her body heated, even though cool air circulated around her.
For a seemingly endless amount of time, he looked at her, and for that moment, she knew what it felt like to be loved. Surely he couldn’t have looked at her any differently if he did love her.
“Did you wash?”
She shook her head.
He reached toward the window ledge for a bottle of shower gel. “Peach?”
Arielle nodded. It was the only scent she hadn’t yet used.
“Hold out your hand.”
She cupped her hand, and he poured a liberal amount of the gel into her palm. After putting the bottle back, he dipped two fingers into the gel and soothed the silky smoothness across her shoulders. A second dip, then he trailed some onto her belly, then more on her thighs.
“Turn around.”
Each place he touched seemed to spark to life. Slowly she turned her back to him. He slicked some down her arms, then made a trail, tracing her spine from the base of her skull, making her glad she’d pinned up her hair, to the small of her back. He reached from behind her to take the remaining gel from her. He rubbed it between his hands, then cupped her buttocks and slid down the back of her thighs.
“Hmm...I think I like this.”
“I know I do,” he said, slipping the words into her ear.
He massaged her shoulders with gentle circular motions, bringing the slickness to a sudsy foam. He continued the motions downward, rubbing her buttocks and, for a hint of a second, slipping his hand between her legs.
She reached for the wall for stability when he said, “Open your legs wider for me, Arielle.”
Trembling, she did as he asked.
He washed the insides of her thighs and gently worked his way down. It wasn’t enough, and at the same time, it was too much.
“You can turn around again.”
“If I can.” When she did, it was to see stormy desire in his eyes.
His hands, so large and powerful, gave with such gentleness. He repeated his motions on her arms and sides, then spent an unbearably wonderful amount of time spreading lather across her breasts and her nipples, which pebbled with pleasure at his touch. Her breasts seemed to fill, throbbing as with last night’s lovemaking, wanting more, so much more.
He motioned her to sit and joined her in the tiny space. Facing her, he said, “Give me your foot.”
She raised her foot to his knee, and he gave her calves . and feet the same sort of attention. The bubbles had disintegrated, and try as she might, she couldn’t draw her gaze away from the part of him that communicated his desire, leaving her to wonder at the control he possessed. As for her, she didn’t know how much more she could take. “I can’t,” she said.
“Remember my revenge.”
“You’re a monster.”
She reached for him, closing her hand around his hardness.
“Uh-uh,” he said removing her hand. “This was my idea.”
It would only take seconds for her to reach fulfillment and, maddeningly, he denied her just that.
After her other foot was washed, he continued upward, not stopping till he’d cleaned all of her. His hand effortlessly dipped between her thighs, completing the task he’d started earlier. Her muscles weakened. She wanted him now. “Doug!”
“Still need to rinse you off.”
“I’ll do it,” she said quickly. Never in her life had she realized that such a state of craving existed.
He chuckled as she attempted to move away from him, quickly rinsing the suds from her sensitized body. Doug stood and stepped from the tub, grabbing a towel to hold for her.
The nubby material brushed her nipples, bringing out a small cry. He palmed his gun, then snatched away the T-shirt she reached for and said, “Don’t bother.”
In the bedroom, she pushed back the covers and lay on the bed, while he reached for a packet from the nightstand. When he kissed her neck, then started toward her breasts, she said, “Please, no more.”
He chuckled again, the sound seeming to resonate from his chest as he put the shield in place. Shifting, he positioned himself over her, nudging one rock-hard thigh between hers to separate her legs. Strength and power rippled beneath her fingertips, tempered with controlled gentleness. She didn’t want tender and gentle. Urgency thundered through her, and she wanted to lose control completely, wanted him to, as well.
She lifted her hips, taking him in, and within seconds, her world exploded. He surged deeper, taking her higher and higher. Then, through the tingling descent, she became aware that he hadn’t reached the edge yet. She smiled with new confidence and wrapped her legs around him, holding him closer, tighter.
“Arielle!”
In seconds, she felt the pulsation of his release, and heard the deep-throated sounds he didn’t try to hold back. Arielle rained kisses on his cheek, neck, shoulder, wanting the moment to be frozen forever, wanting to stay with him indefinitely. Yet she knew her only wish was the one thing she could never have.
He held her for a long time, as if he sensed that need.
The minutes blended together, and her eyes grew heavy, last night catching up with her.
Later, when
the ringing of the phone shattered the warmth that cocooned her, she opened her eyes to see that he was gone. The ringing abruptly stopped, and she realized that with his absence, her body had cooled, and goose bumps now dotted her arms. Sitting up, she reached for the towel she’d dropped on top of the covers and drew it around her.
She heard nothing, not even the drone of Doug’s voice. The silence hung so thick, she heard the constancy of her own heartbeat.
Sinking back onto the edge of the bed, she felt a wave of loneliness crash over her. Doug had been tender with her, patient, and just now driven by passion. None of it, though, was reality:
She loved him, but wasn’t foolish enough to believe he could ever return it. Even if they somehow found a way to survive this, it wouldn’t matter. They moved in different worlds. The world he existed in wasn’t even close to anything familiar to her.
More, the scars entrenched in his heart ran deep and ragged, cloaked by the burden of guilt.
All the rationalizing in the world didn’t help, though. She loved him, completely, totally, with all her emotions engaged. It left her needy.
A sob caught in her chest as she told herself that even a broken heart was better than never having experienced the joy of loving.
But if that was so, why couldn’t she convince her heart?
She grabbed some clothes, then went into the bathroom, reaching for a glass and filling it with water to chase away the lump lodged in her throat.
The front door slammed, the echo of it tracking up the stairs. He’d gone outside, as he did every couple of hours, always on guard. Protecting her.
After dressing, she dried her eyes and straightened her shoulders. She had strength and courage. She’d call on them, no matter how difficult it might be.
A dark shadow crossed the mirror.
Her pulse leaped, and she swung around. Seeing nothing, she told herself that she was being jumpy, that the stress of the past weeks had crept up on her, leading her imagination to play tricks on her. She reminded herself that she was alone in the house. Still, she curled her hands into fists and cautiously entered the bedroom. She saw nothing unusual or out of place.
Rationalizing that it had been a trick of the light, nothing more, she willed her heartbeat to return to normal. Returning to the bathroom, she applied a coat of mascara to her lashes, all the while keeping a constant watch on the mirror.
One Night At A Time Page 19
