Never Enough: Delos Series, 3B1

by Lindsay McKenna

  Matt could never have envisioned a perfect lover as suited to him in every possible way as Dara was to him. Each time they made love with one another, it was better than the last. This time, his mind was barely functioning. He was lofting like a cloud, floating out of control within some alien galaxy filled with the love he held for her, his senses overwhelmed but absorbing every smell, every taste of her flesh, hearing her little moans and whimpers of satisfaction. She was so open to him that he belatedly realized he was opening fully to her as a result.

  Was this what was really happening? He’d never experienced that rich, bold trust of fully connecting with someone before. It felt as if it were binding them on levels Matt had never known existed until just this moment, when he was so deeply posited within her tight, small, flexing channel, which was still contracting from her last orgasm. There was such a sense of oneness with Dara. Matt could feel each of her jerky breaths, feel her heat, feel the pleasure thrumming exquisitely through her glowing lower body, which radiated heat with such a blistering fever, infusing him, burning him up in the best of ways.

  To say that they had climbed to another level with one another couldn’t begin to explain how Matt felt right now. As he embraced his woman, his arms folded around her shoulders and head, the rest of his long, lean body covering hers, the driving desire to protect her was flooding him in a new, sharpened way. Warmth drizzled around them like a blanket of sunlight designed to bring their breathing into oneness, slowing it, flooding their dazed senses and keeping their everyday minds caged, not allowing them to reconnect with them right now. They were drowning in sensations, ancient, encoded emotions, exhausted but pleasantly so, craving one another’s nearness, wanting to remain coupled.

  Matt felt Dara’s breathing steady over time, become less harsh, the panting dissolving, her skin not as damp as before. He moved his hips, thrusting slowly into and out of her, feeling her weakened response—she wanted to participate but was incapable of doing so at the moment. He felt her trying to match the unhurried rhythm he was establishing with her, but she was just too weak, too exhausted from their hard, physical marathon with one another to do so. Matt understood that, slowly rocking in and out of her, prolonging her pleasure, hearing those sweet little whimpers that made his heart swell with male pride, knowing he was continuing to pleasure the woman he loved, fully and completely.

  After a few more minutes, he rasped, “I love you,” kissing her temple and easing out of her, turning her over and bringing Dara alongside him, cushioning her against the length of his body. She sighed and laid her head on his shoulder, fingers moving languidly across his dampened chest.

  “Wow, there’s something in that island water for sure, Culver. If I didn’t believe it last night, I sure do tonight.”

  His mouth curved. “Could be the greatest marketing boon Oahu’s ever known.” His heart expanded as she laughed softly against his neck, placing several kisses along it.

  “I can see it all now,” Dara went on breathily, continuing to touch him, fingertips lingering here and there, appreciating his incredibly strong, masculine body. “The headlines could be something like: ‘Water Turns Humans into Rutting Animals in Heat.’ Or something like that.”

  It was his turn to laugh, the rumble moving through his chest. “‘Oahu’s Water Induces Mating Heat.’”

  “Really,” she intoned drily. “That’s what it truly feels like to me. I lose my mind. I literally stop thinking. I never used to do that, but since meeting you? My brain goes to sleep and I feel myself shifting to a more basic part of myself. It’s all strong emotions, my limbic grain riveting me, driving my feelings.”

  He moved his fingers through her hair, gently grazing the strands. “Maybe it’s us. It feels like we’ve shifted to another level with one another. In a good way. Just … different.”

  “Mmm, better,” Dara whispered, leaning back on his shoulder and gazing into his glittering, dark eyes, which were thoughtful-looking, though she still saw smoldering heat in their depths as well. “I feel like we’re truly joining one another on a much more important level. I love that,” Dara said. She eased up into a sitting position next to him, crossing her legs, her hand resting over his heart as she held his dark, sensual gaze. Matt was handsome in what she termed a classical Greek way. His nose was straight, cheekbones high, and he had a broad brow and wide-spaced eyes that never missed a thing.

  “I’ve seen you in combat,” she began in a low voice, moving her hand gently across his chest, luxuriating in the dark hair across its expanse. “I’ve seen you with children. I’ve seen you in many different situations, and you were always gentle, except in combat. I saw how you held Stacy this afternoon. She was so starved for a positive, loving male presence, Matt. I don’t know if you knew that or not, but she’s so fractured by the fact that her only male role model is her abusive, dangerous father, and you were the exact opposite of him in every way. She sensed that about you, too. And that’s why she suddenly threw her arms around you and clung to you.” Her lower lip quivered momentarily, her hand stilling on his chest. “You invite everyone to you. It’s just a natural part of who you are. I’ve seen you with your Delta Force team, how they automatically gravitate to you. Even when we were running for our lives, you were always gentle and sensitive toward me, toward the fact I couldn’t run fast enough or keep up with you as we were trying to escape. You never glare at anyone, never fall into harsh words with a person, and never treat others severely.”

  The glimmer of tears, of love, shining in her eyes made him swallow hard. Matt always appreciated post-lovemaking time with Dara. Some of their most serious discussions, where they delved into one another’s hearts and souls, happened in those moments. She was utterly present with him. The last two nights, had reached a new and heady level for both of them. His emotions were even stronger tonight. He slid his hand over her small, slender one. “Blame that on my parents,” he said, giving her a warm look. “They are great role models, as I suspect your parents and grandparents were for you and Callie. You’re like me in that respect, Dara. You never look cross; even without coffee, you’re nice in the morning when you wake up.”

  A smile edged her lips, her eyes dancing with amusement. “You’re right, but I do need my IV of coffee.”

  He grinned and nodded. “That’s true.” Becoming serious, he murmured, “Stacy was starved for a man to be kind to her. I could feel how desperate she was to be loved by her father … by any man … to help her heal from what he did to her and her mother. She’s totally traumatized.”

  “I know,” Dara said, anguish in her tone. “I don’t know why people don’t realize how sensitive children are, that they feel, too. That they get scared and need to be held.” She turned her hand over, entangling her fingers among his. Hers were smooth, long, and soft. His were long, roughened, and yet Dara could feel Matt’s gentleness as he squeezed her fingers as if to reassure her.

  “My mom has often said this earth of ours is like a cosmic high school for souls. They come here to learn how to be better human beings through lifetimes.” He shrugged. “I don’t know about that. All I see down here is suffering, and I told her that when I was twelve.” He smiled a little, the memory fond. “Mom said that people who lived lifetimes down here on this planet were coming to the high school of pain. That pain was the great teacher here.”

  “Ugh,” Dara said, sniffing. “Why not a planet where a person can learn right from wrong with love instead? With good feelings? Not having to learn through a process of pain? That’s pretty damning. It sure wouldn’t make me want to live lives down here. Who wants to learn through pain?”

  “Well,” he said, turning philosophical, watching how the moonlight leaking around the drapes silhouetted the gold hair lying around her shoulders, “everything I’ve learned in life has been through a painful experience of some kind. How about you?”

  Thinking about it, Dara said, “No … you’re right. I can’t think of one thing in my life that I’ve learned wi
thout pain. How depressing.” She saw him flash her a grin, but it wasn’t a “gotcha” kind of smile. It was one of commiseration. “In fact,” she said, allowing her hand to rest upon his chest, “even childbirth is done through a process of pain. And it’s one of the happiest moments I can think of.”

  “Do you want me to give you another orgasm? That’s happiness multiplied and there’s no pain.” Matt saw her eyes glint, teasing in them.

  “No … I’m very, very satisfied, Mr. Culver. It’s just that you are too hard to resist.”

  “Was that a pun, Ms. McKinley?”

  Her laughter was rich and full.

  Matt loved her so much. Dara had tipped her head back, all that wealth of blond hair sliding across her shoulders and halfway down her long, graceful back. He liked a woman who could laugh like that, not cover her hand with her mouth and titter away. She got up on all fours, looking down at him. The smile faded and she leaned down, her breasts, those hardening nipples, grazing the flesh of his chest, tightening his growing erection. Groaning, he lifted his hand, sifting his fingers through her hair, absorbing the happiness deep in her shadowed blue gaze. Dara pressed her lips against his mouth, that large, generous heart of hers contained in that torrid kiss. She had the most delicious mouth, a sinner’s mouth, really. He opened to her, taking her lips tenderly. This was their special time together, a place and space where they could share their love for one another in so many different and satisfying ways. Sometimes it came in the form of their talking about something. Other times, small caresses here and there over their bodies. Or a kiss like this one. Deep, searching, lush with promise and with so much love that Matt almost wanted to weep with joy over finding Dara. And she was his. He still woke up sometimes at night, amazed that he’d found her. That she loved him just as fiercely as he loved her. They were friends, lovers, and so much more. And every moment spent with Dara was an exquisite gift to Matt. One that brought only joy. Never any pain.

  CHAPTER 8

  The morning was coolish as Matt walked Dara into the Safe House reception area. It was eight a.m., and by eight thirty, Dara wanted to be ready to start receiving her patients down the hall. Alani met them at her office. Matt dropped off some papers for her to look over before he sent them on to the Delos HQ in Alexandria, Virginia, then grabbed coffee in a smaller office down the hall. He held a lei of white plumeria in his hand. There was a vendor on the street corner selling them, and he’d bought two. One for Dara, who was delighted and quickly placed it over her head, and one for little Stacy, who was her helper for today. Matt wasn’t sure she’d accept the lei from him, but he was driven to try. They’d find out soon enough.

  Matt spotted Stacy standing patiently at the closed door to the exam room, looking so serious and far more mature than she should have at her age. Her small hands were clasped in front of her. Her curly red hair, which had been in a wild frizz about her head when he’d met her yesterday, was now combed and neatly tamed into a ponytail. Not only that, but he saw some of the smudges on her face were gone, too. And he’d swear that thin, ragged muumuu she wore had been pressed; there were no wrinkles in it anymore. She had made an effort to clean up, no doubt. Matt wondered if it was because she had an important status now that she was helping Dara. Unsure, he felt concerned that the lei might not be the right gift for her, but Dara was positive she’d love it. His instincts told him differently, and he hoped he was wrong.

  As they approached, Dara called out a hello to Stacy, lifting her hand, talking warmly with her. Matt saw the girl respond positively to Dara, but she refused to meet his eyes. He’d seen too many abused Afghan girls who knew only fists from the males in their families, and they would never meet a man’s eyes, either. To meet their gaze was to invite retribution and more abuse. They learned very early in their imprisoned lives to keep their gazes anchored to their dusty feet. Matt knew the value of always crouching down to eye level with a child. That way, they weren’t as fearful or threatened by the tall, big man standing over them.

  “Matt found something he thought you might like.” Dara gestured toward the lei in his left hand.

  Stacy’s eyes widened enormously as Matt crouched down and he held out the fragile, fragrant white plumeria lei toward her.

  “I bought one for Dr. McKinley,” he told her. “And since you’ve been such a great helper to her, I thought you might like to wear one, too.” Matt held his breath, not sure she was going to take the proffered lei. He saw so many emotions, good and bad, pass through Stacy’s huge green eyes as she stared down at it. And then he saw her cheeks turn a bright red, making those freckles even darker than usual.

  “Really?” she asked Matt, staring at him almost uncomprehendingly.

  “Sure,” he murmured. “Dr. McKinley and I are engaged, and it’s always nice if the man who loves her, which is me, can get her something to match her beauty. When I bought this for her, I thought you might enjoy wearing a lei, too. If you don’t want it, maybe your mom might like it? Or you know a friend who would enjoy it?” Matt wasn’t going to box her in and force Stacy to take it if it didn’t feel right to her.

  Dara placed her purse and other items on the desk, shrugging into her white lab coat and looping the stethoscope around her neck. She came to the doorway, smiling down at Stacy. “Doesn’t it smell wonderful, Stacy?”

  “Y-yes, Dr. McKinley. It sure does.” She shyly looked up at Matt and then lifted her chin, looking at Dara. “Does … I mean … does he always give you flowers?”

  “As often as he can,” she said gently. “It’s always nice to receive something from someone who loves you. My own father? When I was your age? He would pick wildflowers from around the ranch where I lived and he’d bring them in to me and my sister, Callie. We always loved getting them.”

  “Oh …”

  Matt felt so many heavy, conflicted emotions around Stacy. She was stunned, unsure, and wanted the lei. Was she feeling as if she didn’t deserve it? Or like if she did take it, something bad would happen to her? He knew her feeling of low self-esteem, coming from a dysfunctional home, could be creating that reaction within her.

  She frowned and looked to Dara. “Does it mean if Matt gives those to me, he loves me too? I mean, I know he’s not my daddy.”

  Matt’s heart broke, hearing the quaver in her soft, unsure voice. Stacy was so fragile. All he found himself wanting to do was protect the child, give her a safe haven, show her that not all men were monsters like her father was. He remained silent, because the question had been directed to Dara, not himself. He saw Dara’s face melt with compassion.

  “Oh, Stacy,” she said. “You deserve flowers. You’re such a hardworking, responsible young lady. If Matt hadn’t thought of it, I’m sure I would have. You should be thanked for all the care and help you gave others yesterday. Flowers are a way to say thank you.”

  That seemed to make a difference to her, and Matt was grateful that Dara was there to act as a buffer between them. Stacy licked her lips nervously, moving her small hands down her muumuu, as if her palms were damp and sweaty. Matt didn’t understand her hesitancy, and he wasn’t going to do or say anything to make Stacy feel more agitated or scared than she already was. He saw fear deep in her green eyes. What had he done to make her feel that way? A bad feeling moved through Matt, and he realized that somehow, his innocent gesture to make her feel better was stirring up a lot of unanticipated emotions within her.

  Stacy backed off from Matt, moving more toward Dara. She had her finger in her mouth, as if she were a four-year-old faced with a dilemma and not the twelve-year-old she was.

  “M-my daddy once gave me flowers,” she whispered up to Dara, keeping her voice low, shame in it. “And then … he hurt me after I took ’em …”

  Son of a bitch! Matt remained unmoving, hearing the anguish in her whisper. And he got it, big-time. Great, so he was bringing up a truly devastating experience in Stacy’s life. Feeling anger and frustration, he slowly rose.

  “I have an idea,�
�� he told Dara, keeping his voice unruffled, handing her the lei. “Why don’t we give this to Alani?” Because there was no way Matt wanted Stacy to see him as anything like her father, who had been charged with child molestation in addition to assaulting his family.

  Dara raised her brows, gave him a perfunctory nod. She eased the lei from his hand and said, “That’s a great idea, Matt. Why don’t we take it up to her right now?”

  Matt moved toward the door, giving Stacy the space she needed from him. She looked sadly at him for a brief moment and then quickly looked away. He felt like hell. And there was nothing he could do or say to fix it. Frustration grew in him. “I’ll walk with you,” he said quietly, keeping his game face on. Turning, he said gently to Stacy, “I know Dr. McKinley is going to need your help today. Thank you for volunteering.” He saw her small face lose some of its tension, but he still saw shadows in her large eyes.

  “Y-you’re welcome,” she whispered, chewing on that index finger in her mouth.

  Matt turned, cupping Dara’s elbow, escorting her down the hall toward the main office section. Only when they made the turn and disappeared around the corner did he pull her to a halt.

  “I’m sorry,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I really screwed up.”

  Dara made a soft sound of apology and slid her arm around his shoulders, drawing him to her. “Oh, Matt, don’t be! Abused, battered children are always a minefield. You never know what’s going to set them off or trigger a bad experience or memory in them.” She reached up, kissing the thin, hard line of his mouth, seeing sadness and disappointment in his eyes. He was distraught. “It’s okay, really. She’ll get over it. You did the right thing, said the right things, so this won’t further traumatize her.”

  “All I wanted to do is make her happy, Dara. Show her that not all men are monsters out to hurt her.”

  “I understand,” Dara whispered, kissing his cheek and releasing him. “It’s all right. Really. She’ll get over it.”