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Breakaway

Page 11

by Rochelle Alers


  “I want a one-egg omelet,” Celia announced as she sat on a high stool at the cooking island.

  Gavin rolled his eyes upward. “There’s no such thing as a one-egg omelet. Either it’s two or three.”

  “Okay. Make it two.”

  Gavin lay on a recliner on the patio, watching Celia as she sat on a low stool pulling weeds from an overgrown flower garden. Thunder rumbled in the distance like the roar of an angry bear. There were intermittent flashes of lightning, but no rain.

  She’d eaten more for breakfast than she had at dinner. Then, she hadn’t had more than a few forkfuls of beans, rice, roast and pulled pork. She’d drunk coffee, but hadn’t eaten the flan. He’d watched her pick at her plate, believing she was a picky eater when the thought came to him that she may possibly be bulimic. However, she’d proven him wrong when she ate all of her omelet, a slice of raisin toast, sliced fruit and two cups of coffee. Celia hadn’t gone to the bathroom but to the mudroom to put on a pair of rubber boots and gardening tools.

  There was another flash of lightning that lit up the entire sky. Gavin was on his feet. There had been enough light to see the shadowy outline of a dog. Reaching for the automatic tucked into the ankle holster, he rose to his feet and slowly made his way off the patio to the perimeter of the garden. Celia shifted the stool and the canine took two tentative steps. A roll of thunder shook the ground, followed by lightning that illuminated the countryside.

  It’d only taken a glance for Gavin to recognize the shape crouched less than ten feet from where Celia sat as a coyote. “Don’t move, baby,” he warned quietly.

  Celia glanced up, her eyes widening when she saw the gun pointed at her. The tears filling her eyes blurred her vision. Trance-like, she removed her gardening gloves. “Gavin, no.” Her voice was a trembling whisper.

  He took a step. “Don’t talk and please, baby, don’t move.”

  Raising his hand, his gaze never leaving the animal, he fired a warning shot within inches of the animal’s ear, the sound reverberating like an echo. The smell of cordite hung heavily in the air as the coyote turned, ran and disappeared in the undergrowth of a copse of trees. Pushing the firearm into the waistband behind his back, Gavin approached Celia, who hadn’t moved. When he reached out to touch her she began screaming, the ear-piercing shrieks lingering and carrying across the gorges and valleys like the wind.

  Celia felt a fear she’d never experienced before, not even when she’d stared into the bore of the large handgun held by a boy who would eradicate two lives as naturally as exhaling. She hadn’t believed he would shoot her or Yale because she knew they weren’t his target. But after he’d fired the first shot it was as if he couldn’t stop.

  She couldn’t believe she’d invited a man into her home, a man she trusted and he wanted to kill her. It was better if she’d died in the cubicle in the E.R. than in a house in the mountains where her nearest neighbor couldn’t hear her even if she’d screamed at the top of her lungs. Her grandmother was right. If Gavin killed her, then it would be days, if not weeks before someone came looking for her body. Perhaps it was a good thing that she’d promised Nicholas she would come to Virginia the following weekend. If she didn’t show up at least he’d know where to come looking for her.

  Gavin took a step backward when Celia came at him, her fingers clawing at his face. He parried her flagging arms, and then grabbed her wrists, holding them at her sides while she screamed like someone possessed.

  “Stop it, Celia!” He smothered a groan when her knee came up and made contact with his groin. Tightening his hold, he swung her up until she lay across his shoulder. He held her legs while she pounded his back, the blows bouncing off like hail hitting a roadway. Gavin carried her back into the house and dropped her on the chaise like a limp bedroll. He didn’t give her a chance to move when his body covered hers.

  Celia couldn’t move and she couldn’t breathe with the pressure of Gavin’s body making her his prisoner. “Let me up.”

  “Not until you calm down.”

  “Calm down? How the hell am I supposed to be calm when you tried to kill me?”

  Gavin stared at the high color in Celia’s cheeks. It was the first time he noticed a sprinkling of freckles over the bridge of her nose that even the hot Florida sun hadn’t been able to conceal. “If I’d wanted to kill you, baby, you wouldn’t be talking right now.”

  Still struggling, Celia attempted to free herself. “Why, then, did you shoot at me?”

  He smiled. “I wanted to scare off a coyote that was stalking you.”

  “You killed a coyote?”

  “No, Celia. I frightened off a coyote. But, if he had attacked you, then I definitely would’ve had to kill it.”

  “Why didn’t you shout at it instead of firing your gun?”

  Gavin sobered. “What if it would’ve attacked you instead of running away? Then I’d have to take you to the hospital to be tested for rabies, and as a doctor you know what that entails.” His eyes narrowed. “Why did you think I was trying to kill you, Celia?”

  She closed her eyes. “I don’t know, Gavin. When I heard the shot all I thought about were the few seconds when I saw two people shot before I felt the fire in my side.” Celia opened her eyes to see Gavin staring at her as if she were a complete stranger. “Just for a nanosecond I believed you were a hit man. That someone had paid you to eliminate a witness.”

  “You’re kidding, aren’t you?”

  “No, I’m not. You have to be aware of the number of witnesses that are murdered every year to keep them from testifying.”

  “You’re wrong about me, baby. If I’d wanted to kill you I would’ve done it already. I could’ve put a bullet in your head when you stopped to help Terry, and then gotten back into my vehicle and drove away. There would’ve been nothing to link me to your death. No fingerprints and no DNA.”

  Celia nodded. She knew Gavin was right, but seeing the gun in his hand was like an instant replay of the moment when her life was in the hands of a crazed teenager bent on revenge and retaliation. “I’m sorry, Gavin. Seeing you with that gun was like déjà vu.”

  Supporting his weight on his elbows, Gavin cradled her head between his hands. “I promised to take care of you, not hurt you,” he said softly and close to her parted lips.

  A shiver of wanting raced through Celia’s body. She knew what she proposed to ask the man molded to the length of her body bordered on brazenness but she was past caring.

  “You can take care of me by making love to me.”

  Gavin went completely still as if he’d been shot, not wanting to believe what he’d just heard. He tried analyzing Celia’s request, then chided himself for it. She’d thought she was going to die and his making love to her would confirm that she was still alive, breathing and feeling sensations that symbolized the perpetuation of life.

  “Are you certain, Celia?”

  A smile flitted across her full mouth. “As certain as I am that you’ll protect me.”

  Needing no further prompting, he moved off the chaise, swinging her into his arms. He smiled when she put her arms around his neck as he walked off the porch, down a hallway to the staircase leading to the second story.

  Gavin wanted to make love to Celia so he could eradicate the memory of the man she’d promised to marry. Dr. Yale Trevor-Jones was gone and he would take his place. Not as her fiancé, but as her lover and protector. He carried her up the staircase, walking into his bedroom and closing the door even though they were the only ones in the house. He wanted the bedroom to become a sanctuary where they would shut out the past and begin anew. When he made love to her he wanted to forget every woman from his past and make Celia forget every other man.

  Celia had begged Gavin to make love to her because she felt empty inside. It had nothing to do with bearing a child. It was the lack of sexual fulfillment. She hadn’t realized the inadequacies of her first lover until she’d left him. Not only was he unworthy of her virginity, but his selfishness was appa
rent when he failed to make certain she climaxed before he did.

  Chapter 10

  Gavin placed Celia on the bed as if she were a fragile piece of crystal. He turned on the lamp on the bedside table. Going to his knees, he removed her boots and socks, his gaze never leaving hers. He searched her face, looking for indecision, but saw strength, determination instead. She’d asked him to make love to her and he would, because it was something he’d wanted to do the instant she’d turned to look at him in the supermarket.

  Even without knowing her name or whether she was married or involved with someone, he’d wanted to make love to her, and that had been a first for him. He’d believed he would never see her again, but fate had intervened when he’d flagged down her SUV before she caused further injury to the puppy that had crawled on to the roadway.

  By the time he’d celebrated his thirty-fifth birthday, Gavin had long tired of the lies and head games when it came to interacting with women. Some he would see once or twice, and the few who’d managed to hold his interest for more than a week or two he continued to date. Celia was different. He hadn’t known her a week, yet it felt as if they had been together for months. Sharing dinner with her and her brother was easygoing and enjoyable. It had been a long time since he’d felt a part of a family unit because of his brother’s undercover stints. Wheras he would take a break between assignments, it hadn’t been that way with Orlando. It was as if the ex-Navy SEAL ATF agent had to prove his worth over and over because of his drug-addicted parents.

  Placing a hand over Celia’s flat belly, Gavin leaned over and brushed his mouth over hers. “Are you certain this is what you want?”

  Her lips parted in a demure smile. “Yes, Gavin, it is what I want.” Her dulcet voice had dropped an octave, becoming almost a whisper.

  He wanted to tell her it would change everything between them. Once they joined their bodies it would change him and change her. “Do I need to protect you?”

  It took a while for Celia to realize Gavin was asking her whether she was using a contraceptive. She’d had her gynecologist remove the intrauterine device before she was discharged from the hospital. If she were to embark on a summer liaison with Gavin, she didn’t want the result to be an unplanned pregnancy. It’d always been her wish to marry, and then start a family.

  “Yes, please.”

  Gavin kissed her again. “Don’t run away, baby.”

  He left the bed and made his way to the walk-in closet and opened the door. He placed the automatic and ankle holster on a shelf, then reached for a toiletry bag, opened it and took out several condoms. Celia’s eyes appeared abnormally large when he returned to the bed and placed a condom on the pillow beside her head. It was as if seeing the small packet made what they were about to do real. It was one thing to talk about making love and another to actually engage in the very intimate act where they’d cease to exist as separate entities.

  Gavin couldn’t understand what made Celia Cole-Thomas so different from the other women he’d slept with. At first, he’d believed he was attracted to her delicate beauty and intelligence. Then it was her strength, but after seeing her reaction to his discharging a shot, he knew it was her vulnerability. Under the tough-girl, scrappy exterior was a woman who’d stared death in the face and survived. And despite the dangers facing her, she was willing to enter a courtroom to testify as to what she’d witnessed to send a murderer to prison for the rest of his natural life, or to death row.

  His hands were steady when he unsnapped the waistband on her jeans and eased them off her hips and down her legs. “Very cute.” Celia wore a pair of candy-striped, red-and-white silk bikini panties. His expressive eyebrows lifted. “I love peppermint.” Before Celia could react, Gavin had pressed his face to her groin and blew his hot breath against the triangle of silk. “You smell delicious.”

  Heat and shame burned Celia’s face. She’d never had the experience of a man putting his face between her legs. Even when she’d overheard her female friends and colleagues talk about what went on in their bedrooms, she was never one to contribute to the discussion when it came to oral sex. The first time she’d asked Yale if he’d ever gone down on a woman, he’d stared at her as if she’d been suddenly diagnosed with leprosy or another deadly communicable disease. It was the first and last time she’d broached the subject with him.

  She closed her eyes, letting all of her senses take over. Gavin’s touch was gentle as he removed her jeans, tank top, bra and finally her panties. Celia felt rather than saw Gavin move off the bed, and she opened her eyes. He stood tall and powerful, looming over the bed like the bronze statues she’d seen in museums. She inhaled a breath, holding it while he unbuttoned the chambray shirt and shrugged it off his broad shoulders. A slight gasp escaped her when she stared at the unbelievable perfection of his toned, muscled upper body.

  Celia was transfixed, unable to pull her gaze away from her soon-to-be lover as he undressed and the throbbing between her legs had become an ache only he could assuage. Everything about Gavin Faulkner was different from her late fiancé, from his coloring to his height and breadth. Her eyes followed his every motion as he leaned over to remove his boots and socks, the muscles in his back rippling sensuously. His jeans came next, followed by a pair of black boxer-briefs. Then she did close her eyes, but curiosity forced her to open them seconds later to stare numbly in awe at the long, thick sex hanging heavily between muscled thighs.

  Seeing Gavin fully clothed was a turn-on. But, seeing him completely naked set her nerve endings on fire. Heated blood rushed through Celia’s body, making it almost impossible for her to remain immobile. As a doctor she’d lost count of the number of naked men she’d seen, yet looking at Gavin completely nude for the first time negated all of her medical training. He wasn’t her patient. He was a man with whom she’d asked to share his body. And what a magnificent body it was.

  Rising from the pillow, she extended her hand. “Come sit down and put your back against the headboard.”

  Gavin complied. “What’s up, baby?”

  Celia straddled his lap. “I have to deal with some unfinished business.”

  Anchoring his hands around her waist, he pulled her closer. “Does that unfinished business have anything to do with a lap dance?”

  Shocks of arousal swept through her when her breasts touched his smooth, hard chest. “Yes. But if it’s too much for you—”

  “I didn’t say it was too much for me,” Gavin said, cutting her off. “I said you can’t tease me, then not finish what you’ve started.”

  “It wasn’t my fault that my brother came unannounced.”

  Burying his face between her neck and shoulder, he nipped the silky skin. “There’s nothing to stop us now.”

  Celia anchored her arms under Gavin’s shoulders. “I suggest you wrap up your package now.” She didn’t want or need any accidents where sex play ended in her becoming pregnant. Scooting down his thighs, she hovered above his knees.

  Throwing back his head, Gavin laughed loudly. He’d predicted they were going to have a lot of fun hanging out together, and Celia had just proven him right. “Yes, Doc.” Reaching for the condom, he opened the packet and rolled the latex sheath down the length of his penis. His hands went to Celia’s waist as he pulled her closer.

  Pressing her mouth to her lover’s ear, she pulled the lobe gently between her teeth. “Hang on, m’ijo. It’s going to be a bumpy ride, but I promise to bring you in for a smooth landing.”

  Gavin laughed again, the sound drowned out by the roll of thunder, followed by an explosive crash of lightning that lit up the entire bedroom. Rain lashed the windows with a fury that rattled them in their frames. But the power of the storm paled in comparison to the storm Celia had created in his loins.

  He closed his eyes rather than stare at the carnal expression on the face of a woman offering him the most exquisite sex he’d ever experienced. Her hips were poetry in motion, moving sensually over his penis in an up-and-down motion before chan
ging to one that rocked from side to side. Unknowingly, she’d seduced him the moment she’d opened her mouth to answer his query about the differences in cabbage. Her smoky voice had pulled him in where he wanted to engage in an extended conversation with a stranger.

  The condom Gavin had chosen to wear was so thin that Celia felt as if he were wearing nothing, and she feared climaxing before she could know what it was like to have his prodigious erection inside her. It lay against his belly, pulsing as she slid up and down its length. Her breathing deepened as she struggled to force air into her lungs. A small moan escaped her before she fastened her mouth to his breast, suckling him like a starving infant.

  Gavin bellowed. It was too much! If he didn’t stop Celia he would ejaculate into the condom, something he loathed. Holding her waist in a punishing grip, he reversed their position and holding his penis, he guided it between her legs. He managed to find the opening to her vagina but was thwarted when he felt resistance. She’d admitted she wasn’t a virgin yet her body was tight as one. Taking his time, he pushed gently, while preparing her to take all of him.

  Celia felt her celibate flesh stretching to accommodate the length and girth of Gavin’s sex. There was pain. Good pain. They sighed in unison when he was fully sheathed inside her. She closed her eyes, smiling. It had taken thirty-three years for her to find her sexual counterpart.

  “Did I hurt you?”

  Her eyes opened. “No,” she answered truthfully.

  “Are you sure you’re not a virgin?” Gavin whispered in her ear.

  A moan of ecstasy slipped through her lips when her whole being was flooded with desire for the man pressing her down to the mattress. Everything about Gavin was intoxicating, from the feel, warmth and smell of his flesh, to the hardness filling her. She never tired of looking at his beautiful masculine face.

  “I’m not a virgin, and will you please do something for me?”

  “What, baby?”

 

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