by Sosie Frost
“Maybe.”
“Were you hers?”
He picked up the pizza, but the slice lowered to the plate without a bite. “No.”
“Never?”
“I did everything I could to please her…and she took advantage of it. I tried my hardest to keep her happy. I never yelled. Never stood up for myself. I didn’t know how a real relationship worked—or that I might have found someone who tried to make me as happy as I worked for her.”
“What happened?”
“You name it. She cheated on me. Took my money. Insisted I mistreated her. One day she’d be…lovely. The next, she’d scream. She always threatened to expose me to her father if I didn’t do whatever she asked. I paid for purses and concerts and trips. And this was early in my career. I didn’t make much money. She couldn’t understand that.”
“Why did you stay?”
“I thought I loved her.”
That sounded miserable. “What made you leave?”
“The second time she cheated on me. With my partner on the force.”
“Oh.”
“I thought it couldn’t get any worse, so I walked away. Ended it then and there. But she had the power. Ruined my life. Almost destroyed my career.”
“I don’t understand. You want this woman back?”
“No. Not her.” His voice warmed. “I miss the woman I left her for.”
I stiffened. “You were…”
“I wasn’t cheating. I only approached her after the relationship ended. And it was the biggest blessing and mistake of my life.”
“That doesn’t sound too flattering.”
Shepard shook his head, a genuine grin growing. “Oh, this girl. She was a spitfire. Beautiful and sassy and from a completely different world. We didn’t belong together. She didn’t understand my job. I didn’t understand her world. But we made it work. We knew we were meant for each other.”
I heard the pain in his voice. “So what happened?”
“Life. Work. My career was in ruins. My ex told her father to make me miserable, and he did. I was punished. Every assignment I accepted was another chance for him to destroy me. The precinct accused me of everything and anything—aiding and abetting criminals, abuses of power, breaking laws. I lost promotion after promotion, and the only way I kept my job was by working more and more hours.”
“And your girlfriend?”
“I wanted to give her a better life. I had plans to become lieutenant. Captain even. But I couldn’t earn that rank if I didn’t work hard. Long, hard hours. Dangerous cases. I was so obsessed with my badge and getting promoted and starting our life that I completely neglected the one I meant to live it with.”
“She broke up with you?”
“I deserved it.”
“Where is she now?”
“I don’t know where she is.” He met my gaze. “And I don’t know if she’s ever coming back. I regret what happened, but I’ve grown. I think she’d see that now. I transferred precincts. Got a more stable career. I’m stuck at detective for a while, but the work is fulfilling. I could support a family.”
“You’re a great detective.”
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “So now, my life is on hold, waiting for something new.”
“Like what?”
“You.”
It was the greatest, sexiest, most amazing answer he might have whispered. But I said nothing. Stared at my pizza. Ate a tasteless bite.
Was it wrong to be flattered? Sad if I was thrilled by his admission?
Pathetic if all I wanted to do was reveal the same to him?
Everything Shepard had done was to please me. From the help he offered, the dinners he made, the games he played with Clue. He guessed what I needed and provided it before I even knew that it was important to me.
He was attentive. Compassionate.
And he had been there for my entire forever.
The baby loved him. And I…
God, I was so lonely.
The waitress returned, offering a box for the pizza that now went untouched. My appetite vanished, chased away by the crashing of my heart.
We paid the bill in a quiet silence, rode home with the music on, and Shepard walked me to the door, pizza in hand.
“You’d better take this,” he said. “Working twelves this week. Not sure when I’ll be home to eat.”
I opened the door to my apartment. He hesitated at the entry.
Was it wrong to invite him in?
Probably.
But my hands were full with the baby, and the pizza needed to be put away.
And I didn’t want him to leave.
“I have to change Clue.” I really needed to work on my pick-up lines. “And I should feed her and put her down.”
Shepard nodded. “That’s fine. I can call you after my shift tomorrow. See if you need anything.”
I scolded myself. All I needed to say was Please wait, we should talk.
That was all. Simple. To the point.
It couldn’t be any more awkward than dimming the lights and sobbing in the corner as I betrayed a memory that wouldn’t come.
Instead I fumbled over the right words. Put the pizza in the fridge? It wouldn’t take him long. Stay for a drink? Not like I could open a bottle of wine. Stay for dessert? Why didn’t I just sling off my panties and toss them at his face?
“Just…” I held Clue close. “Stay?”
Shepard said nothing. He tugged off his sport coat and rested it over the back of the couch. No uniform tonight, but his badge strapped against his belt. Golden. Proud. Commanding.
Just like him.
What was I doing?
I took Clue to the nursery, resting her on the changing table. She gave me that skeptical, furrowed glance—the one I knew would plague me for the next eighteen years. Her little eyebrows twitched, and she uttered a gurgling squeal as I readied her for bed.
“I know,” I whispered. “You’re right.”
“Apapapa.”
“But we’re only going to talk.”
The baby judged, but the instant the boob came out, her attitude vanished. Fancy that.
“I have to face him at some point,” I said. “We can be adults about it.”
She swallowed and gave a cough that sounded an awful lot like a scoff.
I deserved that.
I didn’t know what I was doing. What I wanted.
What was best for either of us.
Clue had a snack, but she wasn’t super hungry. The car ride had knocked her out, and I placed her in the crib. She slept immediately. I flipped off the lights and returned to Shepard.
He waited by the door. Gentlemanly. Quietly.
“All settled?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
I stilled. Shepard stared at me as brazenly as I watched him. His storybook blue eyes revealed a desire so perfect, desperate, and miserable that the tension didn’t simply silence me. It strangled.
I bit my lip. The little sting was pleasing, tingling through parts of me I hadn’t thought to investigate until my memory returned.
“I wanted to thank you.” My whisper couldn’t carry across the room. I stepped forward, approaching him with tentative steps. “For everything.”
“It’s nothing.”
“That’s not true. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me and Clue.”
“It’s not enough.”
“But it’s everything to us.” My words softened as my gaze dropped. I studied his lips, his strong jaw, the rise, and fall of his thick chest as he inhaled deeply. I mimicked, filling my lungs with the cool, spicy scent of him. “I don’t know where I’d be without you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. Not until your memory is back.”
“And if it doesn’t come back?”
It was the first time I voiced the fear, but whatever had so frightened me about that revelation was lost near the safety of his arms.
“Your life was too wild and co
mplicated and amazing to lose any part of it.”
“Okay. Then what happens when it does return?” I swallowed. “What do we do?”
“Celebrate.”
“Why?”
“Because you’ll have that wild, complicated, and amazing life once more.”
And it meant nothing without him.
“Will you be a part of it?”
Shepard hesitated. “That’s not my decision, Evie.”
I stepped onto my tip-toes, aiming for his cheek. The kiss pressed soft and gentle.
It wasn’t nearly enough.
He hadn’t moved. “What was that for?”
My hands trembled. I didn’t hide it. “That was for me.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m too afraid to do anything more.”
But he wasn’t.
Shepard took me in his arms, encircling me with a strength that might have crushed me had my bones not turned to silk. I fell against him, hands pressing into the thick muscle of his chest.
His lips sealed over mine.
Perfect.
Shepard captured my every gasp, whisper, and unspoken word that had paralyzed me with indecision and fear and any other emotion that bubbled from my soul and left me drowning in him.
This kiss.
It wasn’t my first with him, but I trembled as if it were the first time anyone had ever touched me.
Without a memory…it felt true.
His hands dug into my waist, hauling me closer to his body, his heat. I slammed against a wall of muscle and curled my fingers into his shoulders, his biceps, his hands.
Secrets and desires burned inside me, and only he could ease that unrelenting ache that crushed me with hesitance, indecision, and dreadful wanting.
Our bodies crashed together. My words were lost against the fierce stroke of his tongue, stealing from me the doubt I’d wielded as a shield against this passion.
Our crazed kisses bound us together in a breathless haze of utter delight. He led me towards the couch, my steps heavy and unresponsive as he dizzied me with a delicious thrill. I tripped over the rug, but he caught me before I tumbled backwards.
Our kisses turned ravenous. Animalistic. His lips no longer nibbled, but claimed. The heat from his mouth warmed my throat, and the nip crashed waves of shivers over me. I nearly collapsed, desperate and shocked.
I had no memory of this sort of pleasure.
And I wanted nothing more than to explore that wild release with him.
I arched into his kiss, and he hauled me into his arms just to drop me on the couch.
I shouldn’t have let him kiss me as he stole my strength. Shouldn’t have let him tug at my shirt, praise my curves, or touch my bare skin. I should have stopped him before my heart wanted exactly what my body demanded.
I wasn’t strong enough to deny my desire.
And I wasn’t foolish enough to lose this moment, nestled in his arms, heated by his gaze, trapped within our lust.
My shirt and bra tumbled to the floor, the only distraction that broke our kiss. His strong arm looped behind my back, pinning me close as my fingers brushed over his jaw, tickled by the close trim of his beard.
My heart and stomach battled it out in my chest, leaving just enough room for my core to heat—dangerous and wanting. Shepard tugged at my jeans.
It had been four months since I gave birth, and I had no doubt my body had changed.
But Shepard was…
Amazed.
His breath shuddered, lost in a quiet profanity meant only to praise me. My jeans tucked down and revealed the smooth darkness of my legs. He stroked my calf, light against dark, pale against rich and vibrant. He tickled along my knees, grazed to my thigh, and paused over the elastic of my pink panties.
“You’re absolutely beautiful.” His words teased me like another touch. “Evie, I never thought…”
That we’d be doing this?
I wished I had the same thought.
But from the moment I saw him, the instant he stepped into my life, something had changed in me. A flicker of heat that no memory could extinguish.
“You have no idea how much I’ve needed this…” He kissed my tummy—not quite flat but sexy enough to make his fingers tremble and words rasp. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”
And he was everything I’d known. The only romance. The only kiss.
I was practically a virgin, aching beneath this perfect man. I couldn’t remember my last touch. When I conceived Clue. Who I had been with.
Or why I had so regretted imagining Shepard’s face in those fantasies these past few weeks.
Why deny this? Why fight whatever it was that locked us in this heated, beautiful fight between what we needed and what was right?
Why not steal the kiss? Arch against the brush of his lips against my navel?
Why not encourage him with a timid gasp as he cast my panties away?
We both stopped breathing.
His gaze tickled my body.
Nude.
Dark.
Tensed.
Waiting.
“I haven’t…” I swallowed, hard, as he lowered himself, his hand gentle against the softness of my skin. “I don’t remember the last time…”
“I’ll make you feel like this is the only time.”
“I don’t know what I should do…or how to do it.”
Shepard’s kisses trailed down, past my navel and to the sensitive angle created by my spread hips. “I don’t expect anything from you but pleasure.”
“No pressure.”
His grin was wicked. “Your pleasure.”
“Oh.”
“And I plan to show you everything sensual.” He kissed. “Titillating.” His hand tickled low. “And erotic that you’ve forgotten.”
His fingers traced over a part of me that burst to life at his touch. A flood of heat, confusion, and utter delight pulsed in my core.
“It’s been so long for you…” He stared at me. “Much too long.”
It was the truth. A truth I’d tried to ignore.
I tensed as he kissed the inside of my thighs. His breath puffed warm over my slit. I stiffened. Waited.
Ached.
Was this his plan? To watch me squirm? To make me imagine all the pleasures he could offer?
No.
Shepard wanted me to explode.
He dove into me, his mouth sealing over my sensitive folds, devouring every slickened and velvet secret I could offer.
He set me on fire and tamed the flames with his kiss.
He roused an inferno deeper in me, and he fanned it with the flick of a tongue.
I arched, begged, and clutched at the couch, dizzy with intensity. He wasn’t just generous. Shepard sunk within my slit, eager to prove something to me. Was it excitement? Gratitude?
A passion I couldn’t begin to understand?
Every lick and suckle was meant to tease me in a beautiful and selfless pleasure. But I hadn’t been touched for so long, hadn’t even attempted to discover what passions and desires twisted within me that belonged only under the cover of night.
But he was the only one I wanted to help me explore that delight.
I had no idea what I needed, but I knew that it was this man. His touch comforted me. His kiss enthralled me. His generosity practically paralyzed me under his tongue. Shepard was as protective as he was attentive. As kind as he was wicked. He pleasured me as if he already understood everything about my body.
I trusted him
I wanted him.
And I had no idea what sort of woman it made me—but I hoped it would be his.
I groaned, the sound muffled as I bit my lip to stay quiet. Shepard wasn’t satisfied with my throaty purr. He dug his fingers into my thighs and pulled me closer. His lavish attention trembled my slit, and every rattled burst of shivers ricocheted from my core to my mind.
I shouldn’t have gotten so excited so quickly. Should have enjoyed it. Let the warmth was
h over me in gentle waves.
Instead it crashed. Ripped. Sliced through me with jagged edges of demand and unrelenting shudders.
I stood no chance against Shepard’s skill. Every lick, move, breath, pause, and attack came before my body even realized what I needed. Shepard practically demanded my pleasure, rushing me to that peak just so I’d cross over and plummet down, down, down until I sunk into his arms, and then…
I couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe.
What would he want next?
And how soon could I give it to him?
My toes curled first, and the breath squeezed out of me. The crash of intensity started low, and Shepard devoured every single quake and quiver that burned from that sensitive secret between my legs.
My arms went back, over my head. I stretched for him, whimpering as his skilled touch wove me into knots. I arched, breathless, soundlessly crying his name.
And Shepard snarled in victory. He suckled hard against me and reached up, pawing at my hips, my waist. His fingers curled over my breast as the excitement shot through me, tensing every part of my body. Aching me, defeating me, rebuilding me—
He squeezed.
Uh-oh.
That familiar tingle gave me just a half-second of warning. I tried to escape.
Too late.
I expressed my pleasure in a more mortifying fashion.
The fountain erupted, and my distance was impressive, but I yelped as the spray doused Shepard.
Right in the eye.
Man-down.
Well…man-back-up now. No way in hell he was heading down again after I almost drowned him in gratitude.
“Oh my god.” I bolted upright, cupping my hands over my loaded and primed missiles. The tingling didn’t stop, and I either needed a nursing pad or a cookie to sop up the mess. “I’m…I’m so sorry.”
I leapt off the couch. The jiggling didn’t help. This faucet had turned on, and I bolted to the kitchen, drip-drip-dripping along the way. I had nothing to stem the tides with, and this wasn’t the sort of thing that I hoped would never, ever clot. I reached for anything in the cupboard to help stem the tides.
Why did it have to be the champagne flutes? At least the crystal was fancy, even if I was better suited for Farmer Brown’s metal pail.
Was this how I thanked a man for delivering me to the height of ecstasy? Nothing said Let’s get lucky like lactose.
I stared at the champagne flutes. This was so not worth celebrating.
