Her heart cracked just a little. No, not cracked. Not in that sense. It grew, fighting against the hard shell that had formed around it these last few confusing months. That was what cracked—that protective shell that let her hide, that allowed life to move past her while she stayed hidden.
She didn’t want to hide anymore. Didn’t want life to pass her by. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe in a few hours—or tomorrow or next week—she’d find herself in the darkness again. Hiding. Withering.
But not now. Not here. Not when Ethan’s kiss was breathing life back into the shell she had become.
He captured her face with both hands, his palms warm and reassuring against her skin as he held her. Kissed her. So deep, so tender. Her pulse soared as a shudder washed over her, prickling her skin. The shudder faded, replaced by a thousand pinpricks of light, each one blasting a tiny hole in the armor that had formed around her. The holes grew, weaknesses in an armor she no longer wanted, no longer needed. Not here, not with Ethan.
The armor—that black shell that had imprisoned her—shattered in an explosion of light that left her reeling. She curled her hands in Ethan’s shirt and collapsed against him, her breath rushing from her.
He pulled away, his dark brows lowering over heavy-lidded, smoky eyes. She saw the concern there, saw his own fear and knew he was worried he’d somehow hurt her. She shook her head, slid her mouth across his.
“Don’t stop. Please.”
He hesitated and she kissed him again, trying to reassure him without words. His hands dropped to her shoulders, slid down her back and wrapped around her waist. Then she was moving, flying, safe in Ethan’s hold as he lifted her from the sofa and carried her back to his bedroom.
He placed her in the middle of the large bed. So gentle and with so much care, like she was a fragile present to be treasured. Her heart beat faster, heavier in her chest, her blood heating under his gaze.
He pressed a gentle kiss against her mouth then stepped away, his gaze raking the room with a look close to panic. No, not panic—determination. He moved to his closet, rummaged through it and came out with two dusty candles. He placed them on the dresser across from the bed then gave her a small, crooked grin before turning back and lighting them.
She swallowed against the tears forming in her eyes at the gesture, glad he couldn’t see her. Then he was back by her side, his hip pressed against hers as he looked down at her. So much tenderness, so much concern. He reached down, brushed a few strands of hair from her face, smiled again.
“You need to tell me if I’m—if I’m doing anything wrong. If I’m hurting you or if you change your mind. It’s okay if you change your mind, don’t be afraid—”
Cindy pushed up on one elbow and placed a finger over his mouth, silencing him. “You would never do anything to hurt me, Ethan. And I would never be afraid of you.”
Something flashed in his eyes, gone before she could decipher it. Then his mouth was on hers again. Still soft and tender but also claiming. Possessing. She wrapped her arms around his neck and surrendered to his touch.
Surrendered to the emotion rolling over her. Surrendered to the fire he was slowly stoking inside her.
Gentle, so gentle as his hands moved down her sides, slid across her waist. Cool air brushed against the flesh of her stomach as he dragged the sweater up. She sighed at the touch of his hand against her skin, his fingers trembling. Moisture welled in her eyes at the sensation and she squeezed them tighter, hoping he wouldn’t see, wouldn’t notice. Afraid if he did, he’d think the tears were caused by something else.
He broke the kiss, just long enough to ease the sweater over her head. Then his mouth was on hers again, the kiss deeper than before. Heat grew inside her. Passion. Need. Desire. Strong, so strong, pushing everything else away. All the fears, the doubts, the worries. All of it, gone, fading away under the gentle onslaught of Ethan’s kiss.
His hands, so large yet so gentle, caressed her, the touch soft and feather-light. Each caress of his trembling touch ignited a flame of desire against her skin, making her burn with need.
Cindy clasped his shoulders with her hands, needing…more. Needing him. To touch him. Feel him. Taste him. She moaned, the sound a soft sigh of need, and reached for his shirt, her own fingers shaking as she grabbed the hem.
Ethan’s hand closed over hers, stopping her. He pulled away, his eyes dark with desire as he shook his head.
“No. This is about you.”
“But I—”
“You.”
His mouth claimed hers once more, deep and thrilling. Then he trailed his lips across her jaw, her throat, back to the sensitive spot below her ear. A shudder claimed her as liquid fire moved through her veins. Heat pooled between her legs and she sighed again, moving against him.
Need. Desire. Strong and powerful.
Ethan didn’t stop kissing her, didn’t stop touching her. Soft, gentle, lavishing tender attention over every inch of her skin. He reached behind her, unhooked the clasp of her bra and slid it down her arms.
Her back arched as his mouth closed over one tight nipple. She moaned again, her legs moving against the bed as she cupped the back of his head with one hand. Her fingers played in his hair, marveling at the soft thickness.
And then he moved to her other breast, pulling the nipple deep into his mouth. Her back arched again as another moan ripped from her. Low and urgent, filled with need. But he didn’t stop and the heat between her legs grew, a fire that roared out of control, needing…
Needing Ethan.
Words rushed from her mouth, hoarse and rambling, making no sense. Ethan raised his head, those smoky eyes filled with promise as his gaze met hers. He said something but Cindy couldn’t make out the words, not above the roar of her blood, not through the haze of need that shook her.
And then Ethan looked away, his mouth dropping to the flesh of her abdomen as he kissed his way down, down to the waistband of her pants. He pushed to his knees beside her, his gaze intent as he removed each boot and tossed them to the floor. Then his hands were on her waist, his fingers dipping into the waistband of her pants as he slipped them down past her hips. Her thighs. Down further until he pulled them off and tossed them behind him.
His gaze raked her body, a slow journey that started from her feet and traveled all the way up, igniting even more heat and need within her. He reached out, trailed the tips of his fingers up her leg. Outlining her calf. Caressing the sensitive skin behind her knee. Trailing fire up her thigh. Her hips tilted, searching, needing.
Ethan bent his head, his mouth hot against the skin of her leg. He kissed every inch of her, his lips grazing scorched skin, fueling a fire that was already blazing out of control.
Her hips tilted again, searching, needing. She reached for him, her hands closing over air as he straddled her legs. Her lids fluttered open, her mouth parting on a sigh filled with need.
“Ethan…”
His eyes blazed with a heat and need that echoed her own. She saw the muscles of his throat work as he swallowed, noticed the heavy beat of his pulse at the base of his neck. He didn’t say anything, just watched her as he peeled his shirt off and tossed it behind him. Her eyes drifted to his chest, to the broad expanse of muscles and the light spattering of hair in the center. She lowered her gaze, following the thin dark line that disappeared into the waistband of his low-slung jeans.
Need crashed over again. Different this time. Potent. Powerful. Stealing her breath. Could he see it in her eyes? Did he know what she was feeling? What she was asking for as she reached for him?
He slid off the bed and moved to the nightstand, his hand hovering inside the drawer as he watched her. He hesitated then pulled a foil packet out, held it in his hand without moving. She reached for him again with a soft moan, almost desperate now.
Ethan stood next to the bed, the condom still in his hand as he watched her. His chest rose and fell, the sound of his breathing harsh. “Tell me you want this, Cindy.”
It wasn’t ego she heard in his voice, it was need. A need to be reassured, a need to know that she hadn’t changed her mind. And fear—a fear she instinctively knew was for her. Fear of hurting her.
She tucked her legs under her and pushed to her knees, moving to the edge of the bed. She reached out, placed her hand on his chest, just over his heart. Its beat was strong against her palm, a steady thunder that matched her own. Then she leaned forward and brushed her mouth against his.
Reassuring. Asking for reassurance in return.
“I need you, Ethan. Please.”
Her words—or maybe it was her touch—seemed to unleash something in him. His arms came around her, crushing her to him as his mouth claimed hers. Harder this time, possessing, making her his. He broke the kiss and stepped away, shoved his jeans off, and ripped open the small package. He sheathed himself with the condom then reached for her again, eased her back against the mattress. He stretched out on top of her, his body hard and warm against hers. His arms shook as he held himself above her, his eyes deep and intense as he captured her gaze. Held it.
Her fingers trembled as she reached up and traced the soft fullness of his lower lip. Then his mouth crashed against hers again, hot and wet. Demanding yet giving. And then he was inside her. Filling her.
Making her whole once more.
Chapter Eighteen
Ethan started awake, his eyes blinking against the darkness. No, not total darkness. Dim light from the living room filtered through the partially closed bedroom door, just enough to dispel the hint of shadow. He rolled to his side, his gaze falling on Cindy. She was thrashing in her sleep, her hair covering most of her face. But he could see her mouth, saw her lips moving in a silent cry. He propped himself on his elbow and reached out with his hand, his touch gentle so he wouldn’t scare her. He brushed the hair from her face and frowned as his fingers touched dampness.
She thrashed again, her head moving from side-to-side as a low moan escaped her parted lips. Was she having a nightmare? Should he wake her?
He didn’t stop to think, just closed his hand over her bare shoulder and gently shook her, calling her name in a hoarse whisper.
Her lids fluttered open, her gaze empty for a few horrifying seconds. Then she looked at him and her eyes cleared, a sigh leaving her in a rush. She wiped a hand over her face, frowned at it, then dropped her head to the pillow.
“Is everything okay?”
She took a deep breath and nodded, still not looking at him. “Yeah. I think so.”
“Was it a nightmare? Did something happen?”
“No.” She frowned then shook her head, took another deep breath. “I mean, I don’t think so. I—I don’t remember.”
Ethan reached for her, wanting to do nothing more than hold her. Protect her. But she stiffened when he touched her and he quickly moved away, disappointment and worry curdling inside him. He pushed the feelings away, cursed at his own selfishness as he muttered an apology.
She didn’t say anything, wouldn’t even look at him. The worry came back, flooding him with guilt. Had it been too soon? Touching her? Making love to her? Had he somehow made things worse?
He shouldn’t have listened to her. Shouldn’t have let his own selfish desire cloud his judgment when she said she was ready. He should have stopped, shouldn’t have pushed, shouldn’t have—
He let out a heavy sigh and scrubbed a hand over his face, not sure what to do now. Not sure how to make things better. He glanced at the clock, frowning at the time. It was early still, not even eleven o’clock at night. They hadn’t been sleeping that long.
They hadn’t been together long enough.
“Do you—” He paused, cleared his throat and forced the words to come. “I should probably take you home now.”
Cindy stiffened beside him again. Had the words come out wrong? Had he made things worse? He shifted, flipped the comforter off and started to swing his legs over the side of the bed. A hand grabbed him, the skin cool against the heat of his flesh. He stopped, looked over his shoulder to find Cindy watching him, her lower lip pulled between her teeth. Then she smiled, just a small one. Hesitant, her lips trembling.
“Are you trying to get rid of me already?”
“No!” The answer came too fast, the word too forceful. He cleared his throat and forced a grin to his face. “No, of course not. Not even close. I just…I thought you wanted—”
“I want you to hold me. Please.” The last word was nothing more than a whisper, a soft plea filled with need and hesitation. Ethan stretched out next to her, wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close. She rested her head against his shoulder and placed her hand on his chest, over his heart. He reached up and covered it with his own, holding it in place.
Never wanting to let her go.
Quiet minutes passed, filled with nothing but the sounds of their mingled breaths and the steady pounding of his heart. Had she drifted off? Gone back to sleep? He hoped so, wanted nothing more than to stay like this, holding her. Comforting her. Protecting her.
He didn’t want to look at the emotions too closely, didn’t want to examine how he felt. He didn’t need to: he knew exactly how he felt. Knew exactly what he wanted—had known since the first time he met her.
But he couldn’t tell her. Not yet. Not now. Maybe not ever.
Could he live with that?
Yes, he could. If he had to. And he would—he would do anything for the woman sleeping so trustingly against him.
She shifted, tilted her head up—not enough to look at him, but enough to let him know that she wasn’t sleeping. He ran his hand over her head, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, wondering if she wanted to talk.
Waiting, letting her decide. Letting her choose.
Several more minutes passed before she shifted again, her hand tightening in his. She cleared her throat, tilted her head toward his, lowered it again.
“Are you, um—are you okay with what happened?”
He almost laughed, had to swallow the strangled sound. “Me? Yeah. Yeah, I am.” He felt her smile against his chest. He tightened his arm around her and took a deep breath, the laughter gone from his voice. “Are you okay with what happened? I didn’t—didn’t hurt you or anything?”
Cindy moved again, propping herself up and finally looking at him. The green of her eyes glowed, bright and warm. “No. Not even close. You’ve never hurt me, Ethan. Never. And I know you never would.”
He wasn’t sure how to answer, wasn’t sure how to take her words. He tried to control his response, to keep it light and not let her see how much her trust meant to him. “Damn straight I wouldn’t.”
A shadow flashed in her eyes. Had he said the wrong thing? He opened his mouth, wanting to take the words back, to tell her what he really meant, how he felt. Then she smiled and pressed a quick kiss against the base of his throat.
“That’s why I asked…I mean, that’s why I wanted you to—” She stopped and lowered her gaze, no longer watching him. But he thought he understood.
Maybe he understood too well.
He swallowed back his disappointment and forced a lightness he didn’t feel to his voice. “That’s what friends are for, right?”
She stiffened but only for a brief second, so quickly he wondered if he imagined it. She rested her head against his chest again, her voice soft when she spoke. “Friends. Yeah, of course.”
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. What the hell was wrong with him? Why had he said that? It was the wrong fucking thing to say. He needed to tell her no, they were more than friends. She was more than a friend. He needed to tell her that she meant so much more to him. That he wanted more. Now, later. Whenever she was ready. He was here for her. As a friend, yes—but more. So much more. Always.
But how could he tell her that? He couldn’t drop that on her, not now. What if he screwed things up more by telling her? What if telling her scared her so much that she ran away from him—for good?
And what if all she wanted was friendship?
Could he take a chance and ruin what they had, all for a chance at something she might not even want? What would he do if that happened?
Was it worth the risk?
Was it worth the risk not telling her?
He opened his mouth, ready to say…something. But Cindy started talking, her voice quiet, almost thoughtful.
“When I…a few months ago, when it was nothing but darkness…it wasn’t just darkness. I kept seeing images. Just a flash here and there, just something to keep me from totally drowning in the black.”
He tightened his arms around her, simply because he could. “Cindy, you don’t have to—”
“I know. I want to.” She pressed another kiss against his chest and snuggled closer to him. “Blue.”
Ethan stayed quiet for several long seconds, waiting to see if she would say more. But she didn’t. “Blue?”
She nodded, her hair tickling his arm. “Blue. I thought—I wasn’t sure what it was at first. Then I remembered: water. So clear and deep blue. Remember? When we were in St. Thomas?”
“I remember.” His voice was hoarse, the words nothing more than a croak. Did Cindy notice? He didn’t think so.
“So blue. Everything. The water. The sky. And that’s what I focused on. I just kept remembering blue. And that—” She paused, took a deep breath. Her voice was thick when she spoke again, the words almost choked. “That saved me, I think. That was the only thing that stopped the blackness from swallowing me whole.”
Ethan sucked in a ragged breath, fought to get words past the growing lump clogging his throat. “Then I’m glad you had that time on St. Thomas.”
“It wasn’t just St. Thomas. I didn’t realize that until I started therapy, until the darkness receded. The blue that helped me focus…it wasn’t just the sky or the water. It was deeper. Smokier.”
Ethan closed his eyes tight and swallowed, forced himself to breathe. Willed his heart to slow down, willed his body to calm. Cindy shifted in his arms. He could sense her watching him, knew she was looking at him now. He didn’t want to open his eyes, didn’t want to feel the disappointment he was certain he’d feel when he looked into their green depths and realized he was reading too much into things. That her words didn’t mean what he thought they meant.
Face Off (The Baltimore Banners Book 10) Page 12
