by Sharon Sala
In that moment, before they joined, Gabe knew that knowing Annie and the love they'd shared would be the closest thing to heaven he would ever find on earth. And when the time came for him to leave, existing without her was going to be a living hell.
"Gabriel."
His name was a sigh on her lips. A plea to begin and, at the same time, a prayer that, for sanity's sake, it would not end too soon.
"I'm here, Annie. I'm here."
His whisper slid across her face. She closed her eyes and let herself go, giving herself up to the emotions he was so skillfully able to create, and refused to contemplate the fact that she would spend the rest of her life alone.
The rest of her life!
She sobbed once, and then reached for him.
His hands moved across her breasts, and his lips followed. She arched beneath his touch as his tongue rasped the end of her nipple. She moaned as sensation upon sensation flooded her limbs, making her weak and achy, but yearning for more.
When she would have wrapped her arms around his neck, he grabbed both her wrists, pinning her arms above her head with one hand, while he raided tender territory with the other.
Gabriel shivered at the satiny feel of her skin beneath his fingertips. He closed his eyes and inhaled the essence of Annie as his mouth closed around her breast. And when the tip of it hardened and throbbed incessantly against his tongue, he felt the wild coursing of her lifeblood and knew with joy that it was because of him.
Every touch, every caress he gave her had a rhythm that matched the one pounding wildly within himself. When he longed to plunge his aching body inside her, he sent a searching finger instead. And when honey flowed and heat increased, and muscles began winding too tight to bear the strain, he stroked her body, up one side and down the other, in long, even motions, gentling it for the release that was to come.
Gabriel was lost to all but the woman moving beneath him. The same woman who was urging him to move inside while she made a place for him in the cradle of herself. But he remembered what she'd asked of him and knew that, even if it killed him, he could give her that. He would make love to her until she begged him to stop. He couldn't promise her anything else, but he would give her that.
A harsh groan ripped up his throat and tore out of his mouth. As badly as he wanted to sheathe himself inside, in the heat, in sweet Annie's fire, it wasn't time. Before he could change his mind, he turned loose of her arms and slid down the length of her body.
Annie felt weightless. Seconds ago Gabriel had been pressing her deeper and deeper into the mattress as he drove her mad with his touch. Now cool air moved across her breasts, bringing the love-swollen nubs to tight, hard peaks. And just when she would have moved in search of him, his mouth found its target and threw Annie's body into instant spasms of satisfaction she had never expected.
"Oh, Gabriel," she moaned, and reached down.
Her fingers slid through his hair, then curled into fists. All she could do was hold on for dear life as his mouth opened, then closed, centering on the throbbing pinpoint of her arousal and yanking her backward through a tunnel of sensuality. It went on … and on … and on … until it became a pleasure she could no longer bear.
"No more. No more," she moaned, digging tighter and tighter into his hair with her fingers as her head thrashed from side to side on the pillow. But it didn't end, and still the tremors rocketed through her body, leaving her burning alive from the inside out.
"Gabriel!" Her body arched as if from a violent jolt of electricity as she screamed his name.
Perfect pleasure. Pounding pain. Where one started the other ended. Gabe had done what she'd asked. She was begging him to stop. To put out the fire of perpetual pleasure while there was enough left of her to survive it.
Her passion. He felt it. Moving beneath his lips, pounding with the rhythm of his own blood that coursed through his veins to near boiling point. And when he heard her begging him to stop, it was all that kept him from dying on the spot It was what he'd been waiting for.
With a gasp, he lifted himself from where he'd been. Before Annie could react to the abandonment, he moved up and covered her body. The muscles in his back and arms shook from the violent emotion of his own needs' as he braced himself above her. Before the last syllable of his name had died on her lips, he was inside her. Just when Annie thought there was no ability left in her to savor what came next, the feel of him moving in and out in a desperate rocking motion started everything all over again.
She groaned, wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, and knew that if this was the moment … she would and could die happy.
He climaxed, spilling into her over and over in shuddering thrusts. Bright sunbursts of light went off behind his eyelids as he called her name. And then, like the quiet after a storm, he collapsed on top of her, wrapped her in his arms and rolled until she was the one on top. Only then could he relax. Only then could he close his eyes and let exhaustion and sleep overtake him.
Annie lay with her ear against his heartbeat, her hands splayed across the, hard, muscled expanse of his chest, and knew that she would never feel this safe and this loved again.
But it had been worth it, she kept telling herself. At least when he's gone I'll have the memories. And then she raised herself up and stared long and ham into the face of the man who had stolen her heart.
"It isn't fair," she whispered. Her mouth trembled as she lay back down and searched again for the place nearest his heart. "It just isn't fair."
* * *
It was mid-afternoon, and Annie was almost finished unpacking. The moving van had arrived with what was left of her things, and the next half hour had been devoted to dealing with the meager assortment of boxes that the movers carried into the house. When the men finally pulled away, Annie was left with her clothes, a few personal mementos that Damon Tuttle had missed when he'd trashed her apartment, and a small box labeled Books that she seemed unwilling to put down.
Now Gabe sat on the edge of the bed and watched as she walked from a box of clothes to the closet and back again, methodically slipping each garment on a hanger and hanging it up in the closet before retrieving the next item.
Her shapely legs looked long and lean beneath the short cutoff jeans she was wearing. And her body, the one that he'd loved to distraction such a short time ago, moved without constraints beneath the loose pink T-shirt she'd pulled on in her haste. The bra she'd put on this morning was still on the floor where Gabe had tossed it in their haste to make love. And her bare feet padded against the floorboards with a faint, slap, slap sound as she walked.
His eyes narrowed, darkening with remembered passion as he watched. He knew her body so well, yet he knew next to nothing of what went on inside that pretty head. She shared the physical, but never the personal. And there was one thing about Annie O'Brien that just didn't add up.
No matter how organized and thorough and by the book she was in her professional life, from the moment they'd met, she seemed to have simply thrown caution to the winds and done everything a "good girl" wasn't supposed to do.
Somewhere in Annie O'Brien's background was a secret he hadn't unearthed. But unless the revelation came within the next forty-eight hours or so, he didn't think he was ever going to know the truth. He sighed and pushed himself off the bed as he noticed that the small box of books had yet to be unpacked.
"Where do you want me to put these, honey?" Gabe asked as he parted the flaps and pulled out a handful.
"Give those to me!" Annie said, and all but snatched them out of his hands.
Two of the books fell to the floor between them as Gabe stared at her expression. Panic filled her eyes. Certain that he was mistaken about her emotion, he bent down and picked up the books, casually reading the titles as he handed them back.
"Neurosurgery in the Nineties and Life After Death, two of my all-time favorites." His sarcasm sliced through the silence of the room as he dropped the books into Annie's outstretched h
ands. "So … now your secret's out. You like to read weird books. But don't worry, I won't tell," he drawled.
She blanched. Could he have guessed?
"I didn't mean to…"
"Save it, lady," he said. "No apologies necessary. Obviously I've somehow overstepped my bounds … again. You don't owe me anything … not even an explanation. I'm leaving. Remember?"
The sweet smile she loved so dearly was back to a bittersweet smirk as he turned and walked out of the room, leaving Annie alone with her guilt … and her fears. After the passion they'd shared earlier in the day, she couldn't bear to see pain on his face and know that she was the cause.
She dropped the books onto the bed and hurried after him. But before she could catch up and apologize, she met him in the hallway. He was coming back to her.
She looked up into eyes blazing with a blue-white heat, saw a muscle jerk at the side of his jaw, and wanted to run her fingers through his unruly hair in the hopes that she could smooth the frown away from his forehead in the process. Instead she did nothing. Only waited.
"You make me so damn mad," he said.
"I know." Annie sighed and shrugged, as if it were inevitable that sparks new between them.
"I didn't mean to pry. I just wanted to help. Since the day we met, that's all I've been trying to—"
"I know," Annie said. "Please … don't apologize for something that's my fault."
"You let me do what I want with your body … but you keep your heart and soul to yourself … don't you, Annie Laurie?" Gabe's hand hit the wall with a solid slap as he spun away from her in anger, and she jumped as his accusation sliced through what was left of her conscience.
She flushed. It was too close to the truth to comment.
"Why is that, Annie? Why would a lady like you let a man like me into her life … and into her bed?" Before she could make up an excuse, he continued. "And don't give me that crap about trying to find yourself. You're the most together woman I've ever known." He turned back to her, and his anger escaped in a slow sigh as his hand cupped her cheek. "You're also the most beautiful woman I've ever known. You could have any man you wanted. Why don't you?"
"Before I met you, I wasn't looking," she said. "After I met you … you pretty much laid it on the table for me. I had a choice. I could take you as you are … or leave you." She walked into his arms. "I just chose to take what I could get, Gabriel. You can't blame a woman for that."
He groaned. Again it all boiled down to the fact that happy ever after and growing old together had no place in his life. It had never been part of the deal.
"I'm sorry … so sorry," Gabe said, and crushed her to his chest. "I wish I could explain…"
Annie shook her head and buried her nose against his shirtfront, searching for that particular spot she'd come to love. The place where the curve of her cheek fit directly over the beat of his heart.
"I don't need explanations, Gabe. I don't even need promises. I had more with you in the short time we've known each other than in all the years I've lived." Her voice shook as she wrapped her arms around his waist. "For me … it's enough."
But it's not enough for me, Gabe thought. This is the first time since my journey began that I'll leave part of myself behind.
He dug his fingers into the thick, heavy length of her hair, tilted her face up to meet his descending mouth and captured what tasted suspiciously like a sob.
They stood together in the hallway, absorbing each other's pain, and wondered how the hell they would survive when it was time to say goodbye.
* * *
Pain engulfed her as she watched him pack. He'd dragged it out until there were no more excuses left to use. No more reasons to stay. She was safe and snug in a house in the hills, with a borrowed car to drive. Her phone was hooked up. Her house was clean. And Davie Henry had stopped by again to give her his number as well as an assurance that he'd be Johnny-on-the-spot if she needed anything … anything at all.
The only problem was, what Annie needed, Davie Henry couldn't provide. Annie needed a miracle. And she'd long since given up believing in those.
"I still wish you'd let me pay you," Annie muttered, then refused to look away from the fierce glare he gave her.
"Well … I do," she continued. "After all, if it wasn't for me, you never would have stopped in Oklahoma. At least, not to stay," she added, on seeing him clench his teeth and viciously shove a pair of jeans into his duffel bag.
"You'll call Davie if you get frightened, won't you?" Gabe asked, and paused in the act of zipping the bag he'd been packing. He couldn't bear the thought of her alone and afraid.
"I won't be afraid," Annie assured him. "There's nothing on this earth that can frighten me."
Gabe stared long and hard at her, mulling over the odd answer she'd just given him as he watched her expression for a reason to stay. Nothing on this earth? It was an odd way of putting things. As opposed to something not of this earth? He shrugged. He was reading too much into a few simple words.
"Yeah, right. Tough little teacher, aren't you, Annie?"
He tried to grin. It didn't quite make it.
"I'll write," he said.
"Don't make promises you won't keep," Annie said quietly, and bit her lower lip to keep from begging him not to go.
"Ah, God," Gabe said, and swept her into his arms.
Kisses rained upon Annie's face and neck until she thought she might faint from the power and passion with which they were delivered. Frantically they clutched each other, willing something … anything … to happen that would stop this insanity. This parting. It didn't come.
"Don't forget me," Annie said, tears sliding down her face in numb profusion. "I would hate to think I'd come and gone without one single person to regret my passing."
She tried to laugh, but it turned into a choking sob, instead. Gabe shook his head and turned away, dry-eyed and aching inside in a place too deep to heal. He walked outside with his bag slung across his shoulder, then tossed it onto the back of the bike and fastened it down with short, angry motions.
His hands trembled as he yanked his helmet off the handlebars and shoved it over his head. Without a sound, he flipped the smoke-tinted visor over his eyes and snapped the chin strap in place.
Annie watched as he swung a long, leather-clad leg over the bike, started the motor, and then stood with the Harley rumbling between his legs and stared at her, imprinting her image into his brain for all time.
He looked just as he had when she'd first met him, back in disguise. The hardcase who rode the highways on a Harley. But she knew better. Beneath that leather was a man, not a monster. A man who deserved more out of life than she had to give. It was because of that knowledge that she didn't cry out when the Harley began to roll. She didn't cry, "Stop!" She didn't cry, "Come back!" She just cried.
And he rode away.
* * *
Chapter 7
«^»
Hours passed. Hours in which Annie roamed from room to room, trying to find a focus. Trying to find a reason to do something other than cry. But it didn't come. And the emptiness inside her echoed like the painful quiet of the small frame house. She was so lost in her own misery that she didn't even hear Davie drive up.
"Hey, Annie!"
The familiar voice boomed a greeting through the open screen door. Without waiting for an invitation, Davie Henry walked inside with a petite blonde in tow. "I thought I'd stop and see if you wanted something from town," Davie said. "Mom gave me a list the length of my arm, so if you need anything, don't hesitate to say so. I'll be in that grocery store for an hour trying to find everything. Besides, I wanted you to meet my Charlie."
He grinned and winked as he looked down at the pretty young woman at his side. "Charlie … this is Annie O'Brien. Annie … Charlotte Thomas."
Annie smiled at the woman. She reminded her of a pixie. Turned-up nose. Big round eyes. Pouty lips and bashful dimples. Such an odd contrast to Davie's hulking appearance … and yet, someho
w, perfect.
"Hi, Charlotte. It's so good to finally meet you. Davie has told me all about you." And then she grinned impishly as she added, "You do know that he's never full?"
The unexpected remark about Davie's constant state of hunger set both women into a fit of the giggles.
Charlotte rolled her eyes and nodded. "Do I ever." And then she added, "Davie's talked about you for years. I'm pleased to finally be able to meet the infamous Annie." And then she turned to Davie with an innocent expression. "Davie … she does not have horns and a forked tail. Shame on you!"
Davie turned red. He was dumbfounded by the fact that both women had instantly turned on him. "I never… Well, Annie, I swear it was only a joke, I wouldn't…"
They burst into laughter as Davie breathed a sigh of relief. As long as they weren't mad at him. they could laugh all they liked.
"So, Annie, do you need anything from town, or would you two rather stand here and make fun of me some more?" Davie grumbled.
"The only thing I really need is to have a prescription refilled," she said, thinking about the small number of pain pills that were left in the bottom of that little brown bottle.
"Is Parker's Drug still in business?" Annie asked.
He nodded as she handed him her written prescription.
"Wait while I get you some money."
"Naw … just pay Parker the next time you go into Walnut Shade. He knows you're good for it."
She sighed to herself as she thought. Oh, the luxury of small-town living. It felt good to be home.
"Need anything else?" he asked.
"Thanks, Davie, but I don't think so," she said, and shrugged to make her point "I bought plenty when Gabe was still here. It'll take me a week to eat it up by myself."
The biker is gone! Davie frowned. He'd noticed that the bike wasn't out front. But he hadn't known it was a permanent absence. He'd imagined the man was off on an errand. He stared at her face and nearly missed seeing the emptiness with which she smiled back at him.
