I thrust a finger inside her, crooking it just right, and she screamed, arching her back and breathing heavily. She was so fucking close. Too close. I wasn’t ready to let her come yet. The waiting made it all the more sweet.
Pulling back, I flicked my tongue over her one last time. She tensed, digging her fingers into my scalp and holding me in place. “No, don’t stop. Please. Please let me come.”
“No.” I nipped at her hip. “Not until I say you’re ready.”
She growled with frustration, but her eyes danced with excitement. She loved it when I told her no, but only in the bedroom. The rest of the time, she hated it.
She yanked on my hair. “Finn.”
“Hmm?”
“Now.” She curled her leg around my upper body, holding me close. “I’m dying. I need this. I need you.”
My heart clenched at her words. I knew she meant she needed me to make her come, but there had been a time when she’d needed me in every way. I didn’t think she did anymore, even if she didn’t realize it yet. She’d sent me away once, and I had to keep my head on straight so it didn’t happen again.
“Not yet.” I closed my mouth around her nipple, biting down gently. She tightened her grip on my head, a small groan escaping her. “Not until I say you’re ready.”
“Oh my God,” she said, tossing her head to the side. “Please.”
I scraped my teeth over her again, and she jerked. I pulled back, my eyes narrow. I hadn’t been that fucking rough. “You okay?”
“Y-Yes.” She squirmed. “I’m fine.”
“Okay…”
“More.” She yanked on my hair impatiently. “Now.”
I closed my palms over her breasts, rolling my thumbs over her hard nipples. They still fit in my hand perfectly. “Ask me nicely,” I said, my tone deceptively soft.
“Please. Please make me come.”
I kissed a path down her stomach and nibbled on the spot right above the tiny patch of red curls she’d left for me. Her stomach twitched. “But it’s been so long.”
“Which is why I need you.” She pushed my head down a little bit, and I let her. “It’s been too long.”
I licked her slowly, taking my time. She dug her nails into my scalp. It hurt like fuck—and I loved every second of it. So I did it again, and slapped her ass playfully. She liked when I did that. “God.” She whimpered. “Please, Finn.”
“Now,” I demanded, closing my mouth over her clit.
Slowly, I rolled my tongue over her in the way that was guaranteed to drive her insane. Guaranteed to send her over the edge. Her thighs opened wide, and then she clenched them tightly on my head. Her whole body arched and twisted and rolled, and I cupped her ass, squeezing hard. She stiffened, and her mouth fell open wordlessly.
“Finn,” she finally breathed, collapsing against the bed. I let her. “Oh my God.”
I nibbled on her hip one last time, then crawled up her body one slow inch at a time, dropping kisses as I went. When I reached her mouth, I kissed her, my tongue touching hers and sweeping inside her sweet mouth. She closed her arms around me, hugging me close. It felt so right. So perfect.
How could she have ever doubted that we were meant to be?
Anything that felt this good was meant to be.
It had to be.
I cupped her ass in my hands, lifted her hips slightly, and thrust inside of her. She cried out into my mouth, the sound pleading and desperate. I pumped my hips, slapping her ass one more time as I fucked her hard and fast. She needed it, and so did I. We both needed to get the release the other could give us, and then we could concentrate on taking it slow next time.
If there was a next time.
“Jesus, Carrie.” I thrust inside her harder. “Fuck.”
She cupped my face tenderly. “Kiss me.”
I kissed her, moving my hips faster. She wrapped her legs around me, holding me close, and I closed my eyes, losing myself in her touch. Her kiss. Her smell. Everything.
She was my savior. She was my downfall.
Only she could save me from my demons.
My balls pulled tight to my body, and the pressure inside of me just kind of snapped. I drove inside of her one last time, and then I came explosively. She cried out, her pussy tightening on me as she came. I kept kissing her, refusing to stop.
Afraid that if I stopped the world might come to an end.
She broke off the kiss, gasping for air. I dropped my forehead on hers, keeping my eyes shut. I wasn’t ready for her to see me yet. Wasn’t ready to…
“I love you,” she said, her voice heavy with emotion. “I love you so much.”
I nodded, swallowing hard. “I love you, too.”
I needed to pull my shit together before she realized how fucking broken I was right now. Before she saw right through me…
And left me again.
Carrie
I kissed his shoulder, my heart racing the whole time. Things had been so rough lately, but while we’d been in each other’s arms like that…everything had felt right. As if we’d be okay, like we always were. But once the euphoria wore off, and I came crashing down to Earth again, the obstacles in front of us came back into view.
He was already so emotionally off-balance, and I’d made love to him. That was a huge no-no, but I’d done it anyway. Would it make him backslide? Would he slip further into the abyss? I knew what I would tell a client, but I wasn’t his therapist.
I was his wife, and that made everything different. There were emotions and fears and pain and love. The fear was the worst, though.
Last time he’d been this way, he’d left me because he’d been so far gone. Would he leave me again? He’d said he wouldn’t, but that didn’t stop the fear. It didn’t stop me from worrying about him. I felt like we were tiptoeing that line we’d walked all those years ago, and I was terrified it would end the same way.
With us no longer together.
Please, God, let us stay together.
He shuddered and pushed off me. Dragging a hand through his hair, he stood. He looked nervous, which made me nervous. “Are you okay? No regrets?” he asked.
“No.” I hugged my knees to my chest. “You?”
He shook his head. “I’m good.”
We stared at each other wordlessly, the air between us tight with tension.
“I’m—”
At the same time, he asked, “Are you—?”
We both broke off.
I laughed uneasily. “You go ahead.”
“Are you sure? You can go.”
Hugging my knees tighter, I shook my head. “Nope, you go first.”
“I was just going to ask if you’re hungry.” He tugged on the hair at the back of his head. The same hair I’d been pulling on earlier as he drove me crazy. “I can cook some omelets, if we have the ingredients.”
My stomach growled loudly. I pressed a hand to it and smiled shyly. “Um, judging from the T-rex sounds coming from my stomach, I guess I’m hungry, so yeah.”
He laughed. “All right.” He stepped into his jeans, leaving his boxers crumpled up on the floor. “I’ll hook you up before the monster tears through your belly.”
“Thank you,” I said, my voice soft.
He glanced at me, almost in surprise. “You’re welcome. What were you going to say earlier?”
“I wanted to make sure you’re okay.” I took a deep breath. “That what we did and said weren’t making it worse.”
His blue eyes blazed with so much emotion it could cut the air. “There will never be a day where making love to you makes me feel worse, Ginger. Never.”
With that, he walked out the door and into the living room. I watched him go, sitting naked on the bed we’d just made love in. I stood up shakily, pressing a hand to my stomach. We had to find a way to make this work, for everyone. For our little family.
I turned to the side, studying my stomach.
Already I could see the slightest of protrusions. It was probably just m
y imagination, and no bigger than when I’d had a big meal, but still. I saw it. I’d found out I was pregnant the same night I’d found out he was suffering again. I hadn’t had the chance to tell him yet.
How long would it be before he saw it, too?
Part of me was worried it might make his fight even harder—knowing he had yet another person relying on his ability to heal. But it could go the other way, too. It could give him another reason to get better. To get help. But could I take that chance? Could I tell him, and just hope for the best, when he was already struggling?
I couldn’t, but I’d have to do it at some point.
Eventually, he’d notice.
Straightening my spine, I dressed again. When I came out of the bedroom, he was busily whipping the eggs in a bowl. A pepper, tomato, and onion sat on the cutting board, waiting for a dicing. Coffee brewed in the pot, and I looked at it enviously.
I’d given it up the second I’d gotten that positive pregnancy test.
“Hey.” He shot me a small smile and headed for the pot. “You look like you need this.”
I smiled and smoothed my hair, taking the coffee from him even though I wouldn’t drink it. I’d pretend to drink it, and then dump it once his back turned. I felt guilty about the secret I was holding close to my chest, but I had to make sure it would help him, not hurt him. I had to be sure before I opened my mouth.
But still, it felt wrong.
“Thanks.” I blew on the steamy beverage. “Need some help?”
“Nah, you sit and take it easy.” He glanced at me from under his thick brown eyelashes. “I got this.”
I smiled and sat at the bench by the island. “Okay.”
He slid the metal bowl to the side and picked up a big knife. “We had all the fixings, after all.”
“Good.” I set my coffee down untouched. “I called Dad and checked on Susan. She’s doing good.”
He chopped a tomato in half. “I’m sure she’s getting spoiled as hell right now.”
“Of course.” I tapped my finger on the rim of my mug. “Could we expect anything else?”
He laughed. “Never.”
Something bumped outside the door, and Finn broke off. He didn’t even hesitate or take a second to think. Instantly, he reached for the spot where his gun had been. The panic that hit his eyes when he realized he was unarmed was gut-wrenching.
“It was just the wind,” I hurried to say, trying to soothe away his fears before they fully came to the surface. “Finn, it’s just—”
“You don’t know that. It could be anyone. Anything.” He snatched the knife up and stalked toward the door. “Whatever you do, don’t follow me. Stay in the kitchen, behind the island. I need to keep you safe. You have to be safe.”
My heart splatted on the hardwood floor right between my feet. He was back in that place again, where there was a threat around every corner. Where death lurked and so did devastation. I followed him, my eyes latched on his back, but kept my distance.
“It’s happening again,” he mumbled, his voice so low I barely heard it. “Not again. Never again.”
I bit down hard on my tongue. He was breaking my heart. “There’s no one there,” I said softly. “It’s just an episode putting you back in that place until you’re not sure what’s real and what isn’t.” I rested my hands on his back. He tensed underneath my touch. “We’re not there. We’re safe and sound.”
His shoulders bunched. “What makes you so sure we aren’t there? I swear I can hear them, Carrie.” He rested his hands on the door. “They’re right outside the door, and they need my help. I need to help them this time.”
“There’s no one there. It’s just us.”
“Carrie.” He spun on me, his eyes wild and haunted, like a caged animal that had just been set free. He grabbed his head, the knife still in his hand, and stared at me with panicked blue eyes. “Make it stop. Help me.”
I eyed the knife, but I trusted Finn enough to know he wouldn’t hurt me, or our baby. And he needed me. I held my breath and wrapped my arms around him. He tensed even more, but I held on tight, resting my cheek on his chest. “Sh. It’s okay. We’re okay. We’re safe.”
His arms stayed at his sides, as if he didn’t know how to hug me back, but then he did. He crushed me against his chest, the knife clattering to the floor. “I’m sorry.” He buried his face in my neck and shuddered. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
I choked back a sob. Seeing him like this, so lost, hurt so much. “It’s okay. There’s nothing to be sorry for. Nothing at all.”
“I’m such a fucking mess right now.” He let out a long breath. “Shit, Carrie, I can’t do this to you. Not again.”
“You’re not doing anything to me.” I kissed his heart. The heart I loved so much. “You’re such a good man, Finn Coram. Don’t you ever think otherwise. Don’t you ever doubt it.”
He made a broken sound. “You deserve better. You deserve more.”
“That’s not true at all. I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather be with. Ever. I want you as my husband, my lover, and my best friend. You’re all I need.” I smiled up at him, trying to show him with my words and my eyes and my smile that I meant every word. He had to know it. “And you’re going to be okay. We’re both going to be okay.”
“I need you, Ginger.” He took a shaky breath. When he looked down at me, the panic was gone from his eyes, but shame had taken its place. That broke my heart even more. He had nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing at all. “That’s what I need.”
I forced a big smile. “You have me. Always have. Always will.”
“I know. I’m sorry I did that. Sorry if I scared you.”
He had, but I’d never admit it. “Please. I watch horror movies at night, by myself, when it’s storming outside. I’m not scared of a small dose of reality.”
“Good.” He studied me closely. Too closely. “Because if it ever gets to be too much…”
“It won’t.” I squeezed his biceps. “Ever. I’m here for you.”
He rubbed his eyes. “And I know that. I do. I’m just so fucking exhausted and I can’t sleep. I keep hearing things that aren’t there. Seeing things that don’t exist anymore. It’s slowly driving me insane.”
Then he needed a nap, and I’d make sure he got one. “Why don’t you go in the bathroom and splash some water on your face?” I said, keeping my tone soothing. “I’ll lock the front door and wait for you in the kitchen.”
“Right. Okay,” he said, his voice an echo of the real him. “I’ll be right back.”
He headed for the bathroom, and I made a mental note to help him sleep later on. He needed it. Needed a clear head to fight off the demons that wouldn’t leave him alone. I wish I could fight them off for him. Wish I were strong enough to scare them away, so he could have some peace and quiet. Wished I could help him.
As soon as the bathroom door shut, I picked up the knife off the wood floor and went into the kitchen. I passed my seat by the island and set the knife down on the island again. With a hollow stomach, I picked up my coffee mug, dumping the contents into the sink.
After I washed it down the drain with some water, I gripped the counter edge tightly. Everything was such a mess, and I liked to think I had it under control, but this was my husband we were talking about. I couldn’t look at him objectively. He wasn’t some patient I saw twice a week in my office. None of this was under my control.
Not him. Not me. Not his condition.
And it was freaking terrifying as hell.
When he came back out, I forced a bright smile and asked, “Feel better?”
“Yeah.” He nodded and rubbed his eyes. He looked exhausted. “Thanks for talking me down. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
I swallowed hard. Was I really helping him? Or was I making it worse, like I had before? Last time he’d had to leave me to get better. What made this time any different?
I smiled wider. “You’re welcome.”
“Seriously, Carrie.” He came up to me and tipped my head back. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple moving with emotion. “You have no idea how much you’ve saved me. How strong you are. I admire that about you. So damn much.”
I blinked away the looming tears. God, I was so emotional with all these darn hormones raging through my body. “You’re strong, too.”
He smiled. “I love you.”
“I love you, t—” My stomach growled loudly, and I pressed a palm to it. “Oops. Sorry.”
He laughed. The sound was musical and healing and so very him. I’d missed that sound more than words could ever express. “Maybe I should get back to cooking before you start taking bites out of me,” he said, his blue eyes dancing with amusement.
“You’d love it if I took a bite out of you,” I retorted, keeping my voice light and free. He needed me to be strong for him. Needed a break from his demons. “And you know it.”
“You’re right. I would.” He kissed me on the forehead as he passed by me. “But if my lady is hungry, then I have to feed her. It’s my husbandly duty.”
I followed him; rubbing the goose bumps his kiss had given me off my arms. “I am pretty hungry,” I admitted. “We never ate dinner last night.”
“Shit.” He rubbed his jaw. “You’re right. We kind of got caught up in the moment of leaving. You turned off the stove, right?”
“Yeah. I just dumped the pasta instead of eating it. I wasn’t hungry.”
He picked the knife back up and resumed chopping. Halfway through the onion, he froze. He glanced at the sink, my coffee mug, then me. “You drank all your coffee?”
I averted my eyes. “Yeah. When you were in the bathroom.”
“Okay.” He still watched me closely. Too closely. “Want more?”
“No. I’m good.” I tucked my hair behind my ear and slid onto the stool. “If I drink more than my one cup, I’ll get all jittery and hyper. No one wants that.”
His lips tilted up at the corners. “I, for one, like when you’re hyped up on caffeine. It’s funny. And, sometimes, you get horny and take advantage of me in dirty, dirty ways.”
I snorted. “Is that so?”
“Yep.” He stared me down. “Feeling dirty now?”
Fractured Lines Page 7
