Deeply, I inhaled, pressing my face into the blanket and pulling that perfect warm scent into my lungs. A breath of the morning’s freshest air. But still something else entirely intoxicating that belonged to Christopher alone. Sex and lust and everything I’d ever wanted but had been deluded into believing was too dangerous to have.
But I was no longer afraid.
Off to the left, the door creaked, and my head rolled to the side to find Christopher edging it open. A flop of black fell across his forehead, one eye peeking through the crack. Even though most of it was obstructed, I could see his entire face smile when he found me awake. But it was a soft smile. Tender and adoring and promising more than I had ever hoped to fathom.
As he slipped inside, I clutched the blanket to my chest. Emotion pressed so full I thought I would burst. Bare feet ghosted silently across the carpeted floor as he approached, his head dropping to the side to take in the sight of me bundled up in his bed.
His knee hit the edge and he slowly climbed up to my side. On his knees, he twisted his torso so he could press his hands to the mattress on either side of my head. He dropped down lower, to his elbows. Bracketing me. Holding me without touching me at all. Stealing all my breath.
He got close enough to bring us chest to chest, although we were separated by the pile of bedding between us. A wistful smile edged his mouth, and he brushed back the mess of hair from my forehead. Kind green eyes crinkled at the corners when he stared down at me.
Here I’d been, mere months ago, convinced I’d sold my soul to Satan himself.
Now I was certain I’d been sent a gift I’d been too blind to recognize.
“Mornin’, beautiful,” he murmured slow, drinking me in.
Overwhelmed, I chewed at my bottom lip. “Hey,” I whispered. My eyes roamed all over his gorgeous face. Memorizing this moment. The moment I woke up to the man I loved, sure he really was mine.
The day Stewart passed had changed everything inside me. Broken up all the pieces I’d held on to so firmly and left me with a shattered hope that my brother would survive and live out a full life.
Somehow, Christopher had found those pieces and picked them up, as if his admission that afternoon had the power to cure my grief, touching all that was broken with a silent support. A support that never promised I wouldn’t hurt but with a vow that he would be there to see me through.
Four days I’d spent in a daze, mourning my brother, slowly accepting the fact that he was gone while another part of me was slowly accepting the truth in Christopher’s words.
He loved me and he always had.
And no, that love didn’t come without mistakes and wounds.
But that didn’t mean it wasn’t real.
“You sleep okay?” he asked.
Yesterday afternoon, I’d fallen asleep in his truck. My mind had barely broken through coherency when he’d scooped me out of the passenger seat, carried me inside, and laid me here. The hazy memory echoed back, Christopher carefully undressing me, soothing hands paring me down to my panties and undershirt before he buried me in the comfort of his covers. Stripped down to his boxers, he’d crawled in behind me, pulled my back to his chest, and murmured, “Sleep, sweet girl.”
It was familiar and perfect and the last affirmation my spirit needed to know this was really where I was supposed to be.
I swallowed over the heaviness I feared would forever be lodged in my throat. “I don’t think I’ve ever slept so hard in my life.” I grimaced. “I haven’t really slept much the last week.”
He kept running his fingers through my hair. “You needed it. You were exhausted, baby.”
“Yeah,” I admitted. “It’s been a rough week.”
Understanding filled his features. “I know.”
I made a vain attempt to lift the covers, but they only budged an inch considering I was pinned under him. I grunted. “Come here. I need to feel you.”
On half a grin, he dropped a sweet kiss to my nose. “Was thinking I’d feed you. You want breakfast?”
I gave a short shake of my head. “No. What I really want is for you to show me how much you love me, Christopher. Show me you need me as much as I need you.”
Brows cinched, eyes searching, his fingertips traced along my jaw. “We have all the time in the world for that. You need to rest. Eat. Sleep. Then we need to talk.”
That fullness in my throat throbbed. Because none of us ever knew what all the time in the world was going to mean, how long that would be, how many days we’d be granted. And I wanted this one to count. “This is what I need. I need to be close to you.” I moved to whisper in his ear. “To feel your hands and your mouth and your body on mine.” I scraped my nails down both sides of his neck, and he lifted to it, his chin drifting higher as he blew out a breath between clenched teeth. “I need this connection with you. I need time that is just about us. To feel how real we are. Then we’ll talk.”
He tipped his attention back to me, his expression flitting through a million emotions. This time none of them were dark. There was no evil, no malice or spite. All those false impressions that had burned and seared and left me in ashes were no longer my truth.
Because I believed in him.
“You’re my world, Samantha,” he whispered, shifting to the side as I lifted the covers so he could crawl inside. “My entire world.” The rough of his jeans scraped my bare thighs as he settled between them, his heart beating strong with mine as he sank further into me. The covers were thick and warm and heavy, locking in all that heat.
That burn that he lit.
God, it felt so good, and I sighed out in contentment, then inhaled a jagged breath of need.
Christopher reached to the back of his neck and pulled the plain white tee he was wearing over his head. Tossed it aside. “Every second.” He pressed his hands under the hem of my shirt, his touch hot on my skin, and pulled that off, too. “Every day.”
Then he sank in deeper. “Don’t wanna ever be without you,” he whispered as he fell even closer. Skin to skin. Elbows caging. Spirit loving.
Beneath the covers, he kissed me. Long and slow. Tongue and mouth and body and soul. And I felt it. Far beyond the lies that were bred to protect. Ages past the ones that were built to destroy.
The honesty of what we were.
I gripped tightly to it, refusing to ever let it go.
He pulled back just enough to slide out of his jeans and boxers, and in less than two seconds, he was back, hovering over me, hands at my hips, helping me shimmy out of mine.
Christopher pushed up, his weight on his hand and the light bend of his knees. The pad of his thumb raked across my bottom lip, and he smiled when it curved against the touch. “This mouth,” he said. “Can’t tell you the number of times I thought of it… imagined this smile… the way it makes me feel. Wish you knew, Samantha.”
But I did. I wholly grasped it now, what I meant to him now, what I’d meant to him then.
I arched toward him, and Christopher set to tracing me, drawing a pattern over my jaw and down the slope of my neck.
My lips parted on an exhale, and he breathed it in. Locking his eyes on mine, he dragged me with him, urging me to follow his gaze as he trailed it down my body. Fingertips tapped across my breastbone, the drum of a silent song that beat with my thundering heart. He played it soft and slow, letting those unsaid words resonate deep. Seep into my skin. Soak into my spirit.
His hand went to cup my breast, and he watched me closely as the buds tightened in a pleasured ache as he swirled a single finger around one nipple, then the other. He continued his exploration down my belly, tickling across my hips, over the jut of my pubic bone.
He led my sight lower, to the brush of his fingers descending between my thighs. They nudged between my folds, where the skin was fevered and wet and desperate, and something urgent left me on a cry when he pushed two inside. “Christopher.”
“Samantha,” he returned softly, “you need me to show you?” He slicked his fi
ngers out in a slow drag of blissful torture. Making me gasp. Making me writhe. Slowly he pressed them back in.
A frenzy of nerves lit, a buzz beneath my skin. Growing fast.
“You see, baby?” he grated. “I’ve never touched anyone like this. Never touched someone because I loved them. Because I cherished them. No one but you.”
He was whispering words to pull my attention to his face, green eyes fierce but sincere, brimming with love and need and devotion. “Do you see it? Do you know? Do you have any idea how much I love you? It just about killed me when you thought I didn’t, Samantha. Killed me to think you walked out my door last week believing there was ever a day every part of me didn’t belong to you. Killed me that all those years you thought that this was nothing but a game.”
Christopher withdrew to spread me wide, his hips moving to take up the extra space, his beautiful body held in restraint two inches from mine. Our attention went to his cock, the length heavy and full and hot. My mouth went dry, and my stomach clenched in desire.
When I looked back to his face, I swallowed hard, shocked by the pleading look he was giving me.
“I’m clean.” His words came hoarse. Like an apology. And I knew his thoughts had reverted back to five nights ago. “Would never hurt you like that, Samantha. Never. When you stepped back into my world? I knew there was no more living the life I’d been. Knew if I was going to be with someone it was going to be with you. Haven’t touched another girl since I found you in the hall of my sister’s house, and I went and got tested, knowing one way or another, I was leaving all that shit behind. Would never hurt you in the ways you thought. In the ways Ben led you to believe.”
I curved my arms around his back, pulling him closer. I was met with the sweet feel of his length gliding between the folds of my sex and the frantic thunder of his heart against my chest.
“I trust you.” I breathed my admission into his ear, and I knew that was the only thing this man needed to know. He pulled back a fraction, and the head of his erection caught.
He pulsed inside me in one strong thrust.
So sure.
So perfect.
He held my head in his hands, fingers woven in my hair. Nose to nose, breath to breath. Never breaking his gaze, he moved in me. With me. For me.
Loved me.
Cherished me.
Worshiped me.
He took me to those promised places.
Lifted me to that highest high.
A place high enough that my consciousness touched the stars and I glimpsed the future.
A future that belonged to him.
One he’d share with me.
Then together we fell.
A free fall of blinding lights and perfect pleasure that spun and spiraled. The two of us one. And when we landed, it was on a different level. One that belonged only to us.
His breaths heaved and his body shook, and I hugged him close and he pulled me even closer, pressed his ear between my breasts.
My fingers played through his hair, twisting through the ends as I worked to find an even breath.
I stilled when he spoke. “Every truth belonged to you, Samantha. And every lie? All those were yours, too. Whether I told them to keep you or told them to protect myself from hurting so bad after I lost you, every single one belonged to you.”
Emotion clutched me by the throat, and I nodded, my chin hitting the top of his head.
“I need you to understand something… about Jasmine,” he grated out.
I tensed, but he smoothed it away, hand gliding down my side. “I didn’t want you to know about her. Not because I was trying to get away with something. But because of what she represented. That night when I came to your room?”
I nodded again, remaining silent, letting him talk.
“There’s nothing in this world that could ever excuse what I did, but I need you to understand the dark place my mind had gone that night. I’d just found out about Jared, and… I… I was higher than a fucking kite. Everything about that night was so fucking wrong. Should’ve known better, but what made it even worse was that I went to you that way. I was completely broken up over Jared, broken up over you. Inside, I knew I was losing you. All those months your parents were trying to keep us apart, it felt like you were just giving in, letting them win when we were supposed to be fighting to stay together. But the second you opened your window? All this relief came barreling in. But it was distorted.” He squeezed me tighter like it hurt to go back there. “Warped and perverted. And touching you felt like the only thing in the world that could make any of the shit we were going through right. I never wanted to hurt you. Ever. I’d rather die.”
A remorseful breath left him. “When I realized what I was doing and you told me to go… I was fucking demolished, Samantha. Crushed that I’d hit such a low that I’d hurt the one person who meant the most to me. Still, I’d heard you that night, Samantha, felt your fear, and I stopped because that’s a line my heart wouldn’t let me cross. The next day, I gave it one more try and tried to call you, but your phone was disconnected, and I just… cut myself off from any hope. Completely lost myself.”
My heart stuttered through empty beats, caught up in the knowledge that he hadn’t just disappeared out my window and into the night, out of my life. That I’d been right when I’d been gripped by grief for him. Over Jared. Over the loss.
Christopher shifted his chin to my chest, peering up at me as I continued to run my fingers through his hair.
Forgiveness ran fast and deep, penetrating everything, erasing it all.
Still, I knew we needed no secrets between us. No more barriers to keep us apart.
And I knew Christopher needed to get it all out.
He met my eye. “Sleeping with Jasmine… it was like I was giving myself over to that depravity,” he continued. “Letting myself slide right down that path of destruction, because there was nothing good left for me to live for. The girl who had me all spun up, the one who had me crazy in love and wanting something better for my life, was gone. What better way to bury that hope than to fuck it all away with the one I hated most?”
He laughed, but there was zero humor behind it. “Sick part? I lay there thinking about you. Wishing it was you and hating you at the same time because you cut me loose, hating myself because I knew it was my fault. No surprise, I was fucked up again, my mind detached and my body vacant. And it was like I could hear you crying, and I was picturing you somewhere, hurting just like me.”
He buried his face in my chest. “I promise, Samantha, I didn’t know you were there. Fuck, you gotta know I’d never do something like that to you. And no, that doesn’t come close to gaining forgiveness for me sleeping with her. That was my choice and a fucking terrible one at that, but it was never done to hurt you.”
He lifted his face. “The other night… when I lied… I know it was wrong, but that lie came out because I didn’t want to be that person anymore. Didn’t want to be the guy who fucked his chances away. I wanted to be the guy with a hope and a future and a forever. I couldn’t stand the idea of that bitch tearing us apart, not after everything we’d already been through. Turned out she already had.”
He moved to lean up on his elbow, eyes searching mine. “All these years you thought I cheated on you, and you were still willing to take me back?”
I looked up at Christopher as he looked down on me. “I fell in love with you then, Christopher. Completely. And that love nearly ruined me. But these last few months? I’ve loved you for who you are today. Loved the man I thought you’d finally become.” Softly, I touched his face. “Turned out you’d been him all along. What hurts me most now is knowing we were robbed of so much time. Of so many memories. Of our firsts.” My eyes softened in sincerity. “And I understand you needed me to know all of this. And what I need you to know now is I forgive you, Christopher. Completely.”
He snatched me by the wrist and pressed my palm to his mouth. He kissed it, then slid it back to his cheek, covered
it with his as he held it close. “Thank you.”
I gave him a soft smile, and he set an adoring kiss against my lips. When he pulled back, his eyes flashed with something natural, something easy, a playfulness reserved just for us. “So now that I showed you just how fucking much I love you, told you how much, I think it’s about time I fed you.”
I giggled, warm satisfaction filling me up. “That sounds nice. I don’t think I’ve really eaten much this week.” The quiet agony of Stewart was wedged deep in my heart, slowly becoming a permanent piece of me. Still, I felt joy. A completeness I could find only in the love of Christopher.
He sat up at the side of the bed and bent down to grab his jeans from the floor.
I gasped when I saw the inflamed skin on his side. Skin I hadn’t seen when we’d been buried beneath the covers. Skin inked with new words that hadn’t been there five days ago.
It was a bold script that ran up the length of his side, over his ribs, beginning at his hip and ending just under his armpit.
Never stop believing in magic.
Confusion spread across Christopher’s face when he looked back at the shock on mine. I sat up, holding the blanket to my chest as I leaned across and traced the tips of my shaking fingers along the beautiful words. The same words that flared across the front page of Stewart’s most prized possession.
His survivor’s prize.
Christopher cast me a sad smile, a sorrowful twist to only one side of his mouth. “That’s for Stewart,” he explained, raking a hand through his hair and emitting a soft, soft sigh as he looked toward the floor. “He just… he was always talking about this book… his favorite book. Every time I went over, he’d go on and on about it, wishing he had that same kind of magic. After I lost you… lost him… I thought maybe if I could leave him with one good thing, it would be a memento of that.”
He shook his head as if it were stupid. “I wrote the author like fifteen times in a period of two days, pretty much begging her to send him a signed copy. I asked her to tell him to ‘never stop believing in magic.’ Told her how much he deserved it and how much he needed to believe it. I knew it’d never happen, but I had to try.”
Come to Me Recklessly Page 34
