AFTERSHOCK

by Jill Shalvis

  Emily smiled innocently as she continued to railroad Amber with all the subtly of a bull in a china shop. "Are you drinking a full glass of water every hour?"

  "Oh. Well, I—"

  "Maybe you're working too hard. Are you managing to get enough sleep? A baby can be so hard on a mother."

  "I told you she was nosy and bossy," Dax said over his mother's head.

  "Hush you! I told you to scat." Emily kissed Taylor and passed her back to Dax. "So scat!" Then she took Amber's hand. "You come with me now, honey."

  Short of being rude, Amber couldn't resist. She shot a helpless glance over her shoulder at Dax, who just grinned.

  No help there.

  Then he was swallowed up by the crowd and Amber was left with the petite powerhouse that was Dax's mother.

  * * *

  Chapter 9

  « ^ »

  Amber was quiet on the drive home, thinking about the glimpse she'd had into Dax's world.

  She'd seen him playful and teasing with his nieces and nephews. Tolerant and protective of his sisters. Loving and warm with his parents.

  Then, without warning, he'd cornered her in the foyer against a wall and had kissed her senseless. By the time he'd lifted his head, smiled wickedly and backed away, she'd nearly melted to the floor.

  Who was this man, the one who could go from sweet and nurturing, to shatteringly erotic in a nanosecond? It was a sharp reminder of how different they were, for Amber couldn't imagine letting her emotions run her the way Dax did.

  Inside her condo, Amber put a sleeping Taylor in her crib, then occupied herself starting a fire in the living room fireplace.

  Dax waited until she had the flames flickering before he tugged her up, turning her around to face him. In an easy show of affection, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled into her eyes. "Hey."

  She tried to move back from him because being in such proximity always made thinking difficult, but he held her in a gentle grip of steel. "Hey back," she said, trying to look as if being held by such a gorgeous man was an everyday occurrence.

  "Talk to me, Amber."

  "About?"

  "You."

  The way he looked at her, the way he spoke … as if she were the most important person in his life… It took her breath away.

  "You and your family," she said inanely. "You're very close."

  "Yes. Very." He cocked his head and studied her. "Is that what's bothering you? That my family gets along?"

  "You laugh, you fight, you…"

  "Love. Is that it?"

  He understood, she could hear it in his voice. Fearing his pity, she couldn't quite meet his gaze.

  "I know your father isn't quite the same as mine," he said carefully.

  "Nor was my mother the same as yours."

  "You've not said much about her," he murmured, still close, still touching. Always touching.

  "There's not much to say. She left when I was born." With long-practiced skill, she shrugged. It no longer mattered. It shouldn't matter.

  "She missed raising a pretty wonderful daughter."

  "I did fine without her."

  His eyes were soft and unusually dark. "Yeah. You did. But you shouldn't have had to. You should have had her to talk to, to hold you. To love you."

  "Love wasn't a huge priority in my household."

  "Another shame, but it's not yours." He lifted her face and studied her until she squirmed. "Are you listening, Amber? Really listening? I get the idea you somehow think it's your fault your parents are jerks."

  "No, not jerks. My father never beat me, or forgot to feed me, or anything like that. He took care of me."

  "So he gave you the basics. Big deal. Parenthood is a lot harder than that, and you know it. He failed you. Your mother failed you. Your fiancé failed you, and in a way, I've failed you by not being there when you needed me, when you were having Taylor."

  "That was hardly your fault," she reminded him.

  "Still, I won't fail you again."

  He was deadly serious and more than a little intimidating. "I don't want to be a responsibility to you," she said slowly. "I won't have you come to resent me."

  "Trust me," he murmured. "It's much more than that." His thumb brushed over her lower lip and when she shivered, his eyes darkened even more. "So you were alone for most of your life with a man who obviously hadn't a clue how to show his emotions. Do you have any idea how amazing your passion is, in spite of all that?"

  She laughed, then stopped short when he didn't smile, just looked at her steadily. "I don't think of myself as particularly … passionate."

  "No?" His gaze dropped, ran slowly over every inch of her, leaving a rising heat everywhere it touched. "You should."

  "I'd like to think I'm not run by such an emotion."

  "Ah, and I am." His lips quirked. "Is that it?"

  Dammit, she was amusing him. She pushed at his hand, which was still on her face, but he merely tipped up her chin, his long, warm fingers scorching her skin. "Your father told me what he thought of your mother. How he was always afraid you'd be like her."

  "I see. The two of you sat around and discussed me."

  "You came up a few times."

  When she took a step back, he followed, his big hands tender and gentle as he reached for her. "I'm on to you, you know."

  She slapped his hands away and stepped back again. "I haven't a clue what you're talking about."

  "You're not like her, Amber, you never could be."

  Determined to avoid this, she took one more step and hit the wall. "No I'm not, because I'm so careful." Usually. "I've always been, but somehow, with you…" His hands caged her in, her breath backed up in her throat. "Somehow you make me forget to watch myself."

  "Really? That's interesting." One of his hands slid down her side now, and since her shirt came to the waistband of her skirt and wasn't tucked in, his fingers slipped under and touched bare skin. "Always so in control." His thumb slid over her belly and she drew in a shaky breath. "And yet not with me. Could you have feelings for me then? Deep ones?" That hand danced around now to her back, and his thumb made a lazy circle very low on her spine, causing a shiver.

  The flare of desire in his eyes didn't help. "Dax—"

  Those magical fingers played lightly over her tingling flesh. She held her breath when he splayed his big, warm hand over her bottom, pressing her to him so that she could feel his erection.

  "You don't want to feel anything for me," he said huskily. "But I feel something for you. Can you feel what I'm feeling, Amber?"

  Oh yeah. He was huge, pulsing against her.

  "Can you?"

  "I … yes." Definitely yes.

  "Today scared you."

  She stared at him, and he stared back, achingly patient, silently demanding her honesty.

  "A little, maybe. All of you. All that passion, all that wild jubilance."

  "And all that unpredictability. You don't know what to make of me, do you Amber? Or what to expect?"

  "No."

  "You hate that."

  "Yes." But she looked at his mouth and a part of her burned for it to touch hers, fear be damned, all the while aware of how turned on he was. How turned on she was.

  "What's between us is a work in progress," he said. "It can go as you want. You can be in control." He nudged even closer. "Or not."

  "Is there really an 'us'?"

  "Yeah," Dax whispered huskily, no longer surprised by that very fact. "There's an us." To show her, he took her mouth with his, the promise echoing in his head as he tasted her.

  She kissed him back, but then put a shaking hand to his chest. "I'm not ready for this. For you."

  Neither was he, no matter what a certain body part was screaming. "No rush."

  "Okay. Good." She licked her already wet lips in a self-conscious gesture he was certain she didn't mean to make so damn sexy.

  "We could just let this attraction sit in the driver's seat," he said. "And see where it t
akes us."

  "I feel as though I should pull over and ask for directions."

  He smiled. "Do we need a map then?"

  "I do, yes. I need a plan."

  "You can't always plan matters of the heart, I'm learning." He set his forehead to hers. "You're my case in point."

  Her dark eyes were liquid and full of unmistakable yearning. He wished, just once, that she would speak of that yearning, instead of fighting it.

  Then she closed her eyes.

  "No fair hiding." He touched his lips to the corner of her mouth, hovering there, thrilling to her quick intake of breath. "Look at me."

  Both her eyes and her mouth opened slightly, and she leaned toward him, clearly wanting, expecting, needing a kiss. "Dax…"

  "Tell me what you want, Amber."

  Instead, she shifted closer, dropped her gaze to his lips.

  "With words." He smiled wickedly. "It's your plan, you're the one in control, remember?"

  "You want me to say it."

  She sounded so scandalized he nearly laughed. "Yeah." Softly, in a barely there touch, he kissed the other side of her mouth.

  She moaned, and the sound made him hot. "Tell me."

  Pleasure sighed out of her when he slid his fingers into her hair, but though she turned into him, pressed her body to his, she remained silent.

  He drew back.

  She let out an exploding sigh. "Okay! Kiss me, dammit!"

  "If you insist," he murmured demurely. The connection was combustive, instantly sizzling, and there was no way to hold back his low growl of helpless arousal, no way he wanted to.

  Already it wasn't enough. The kiss wasn't enough.

  Threading his fingers through her silky soft hair, he angled her for a deeper, hotter, wetter kiss. Their bodies swayed together. He could feel her breasts against his chest, her belly flat to his, and when he rocked slowly, melding their hips into a perfect fit so that he could feel the heat between her thighs, he nearly died right there. "If you need a road map to my feelings here," he murmured. "Let me assure you, I want more."

  Her breath wasn't any more steady when she met his gaze warily. "How much more?"

  He wanted it all. He wanted her to willingly shed that cool, calm control to give him the real Amber beneath. "You know how much I want. Now tell me what you want."

  She loosened a fist from his hair, then smoothed that hand over his chest, from one side to another, and just that light touch sent his head spinning.

  "Words," he said. "Tell me in words."

  "I want…" Helplessly, she lifted her head. "You. But I don't know what to do."

  "Are we talking about a physical want?"

  She nodded.

  If it had been any other woman telling him they wanted him, it would have made Dax's evening.

  But this wasn't any other woman, it was Amber, and he suddenly wanted far more than her physical want. Swallowing his disappointment, he let out a laugh. "I remember you knowing exactly what to do before."

  Her body was taut and quivering as he kissed her this time, telling him plainly what her mouth seemed to be struggling with, and heat roared through his veins. He caressed her slim back, up and down, slowly, fingers spread wide so he could touch as much of her as possible. She did the same, running her hands all over him. Then, slowly, he ended the kiss.

  Her eyes were huge on his. "What?"

  "I just wanted to make sure you're still in the driver's seat. I know how important that is to you."

  He'd been only teasing, but she frowned, seriously considering. "I'm okay. I think." She looked at him. "More."

  "Mmm. Aggressive." He stroked his hands down her hips, past her thighs, to the hem of her skirt, then skimmed them back up again, beneath the material now, to … ah, those legs. At the feel of lace, then soft, bare thighs, he groaned.

  She squirmed and looked defensive. "They're more comfortable then regular nylons."

  "Thank God for comfort."

  "And they don't seem to snag like the others—"

  "And thriftiness, too."

  "They're very practical, you know."

  He laughed. "You can't be thinking I don't like them."

  "I— You do?"

  "I do. Is it okay that they turn me on?" He had to laugh again when she considered.

  "Why don't you just enjoy the reaction you're getting from me…?" He slid his hips to hers and lowered his lips to her ear. "Feel what you do to me."

  She gripped him tight and nodded.

  "More, Amber?"

  "Yes, please," she whispered politely, making him crack up again. He'd never in his life laughed while trying to get a woman naked. He liked it. And her. Very much.

  "Still so in control…" He continued to stroke her, determined to shatter her restraint. "Touch me back," he urged.

  Her hands slipped beneath his shirt, streaking over his bare back. "Dax—" Her hips undulated against his. "Where's my more?"

  That needy, whispery voice nearly brought him to his knees. "Here." His voice was rough. "Skin to skin this time, I want to feel you, all of you."

  Apparently in agreement, she tore off his shirt, then sucked in her breath. "You didn't tell me how beautiful you are." Her fingertips slid over his chest, her eyes wide with awe.

  "Not like you." He had his own ogling to do now as he undid the buttons on her blouse, then slid it down to her elbows. At the sight of her, he let out his own shaky breath, then bent to her. "Oh, baby, not like you." Opening his mouth against her, he scattered hot little nips over her quivering skin. "Amber … you still okay?"

  "What?" Dazed, she lifted her head, her arms still trapped by her blouse.

  Through the white lace of her bra, her nipples were puckered and begging for attention, which he intended to give. "I asked if you were all right. You didn't want to lose yourself, remember?" Cupping her breasts, he let his thumbs glance over the tips, back and forth as her eyes glazed over. "I don't want to take this further than you want."

  "I…" She closed her eyes when he continued that movement with his thumbs, then slid her hands up around his neck, and squeezed him so he could scarcely breath. "I'm fine. Just don't stop."

  He might have grinned, but he was having trouble with his breathing. The feel of her in his hands…

  "Give me my more, Dax."

  Laughing softly he tugged her shirt completely off. Hunger and need pumped through him. It wasn't comforting to realize that he would be only partially sated by making love with her tonight.

  The fire was roaring, warm and enticing, and they sank to the thick rug in front of it. He expected some hesitation when he opened his arms, but she came right into them, fitting there as if she belonged forever.

  Forever.

  What a thought. He'd never believed in forever, at least not for himself. "Still okay?" he asked, running a finger down her body.

  She sucked in a breath when he slid off the rest of her clothes, then his. "Yes."

  "Just wanted to make sure." He played with her belly button, her hipbone, then her inner thigh, which had her letting that air back out again, through her teeth. When he lingered there, she made that needy little whimper deep in her throat. "You're still in control, right?"

  "Dax?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Shut up."

  He grinned, then leaned over her.

  The kiss was long, wet, hot and left him aching for more. Levering himself up on his forearms, he cupped her face. "I want you, Amber. Want me back."

  She arched up. "Yes."

  He felt the wetness between her legs which she spread to accommodate his, but he needed the words. "Tell me."

  She licked her dry lips and writhed against him, encouraging him to sink inside her, still saying nothing.

  "Tell me." He stroked himself against her and her eyes went opaque.

  "I want you, Dax."

  He had a second to wish she'd said she needed him, but his body was hard and pulsing, poised for entry and aroused beyond the point of no return. Wh
en she reared up and hugged him to her, his heart squeezed.

  "I have a condom this time," he said hoarsely, and when he finally managed to get it on, he drove them straight to paradise.

  * * *

  Amber stirred first. Her body was a stranger to her, languid and lazy and newly tender in spots she'd almost forgotten about.

  Oh, and she was wrapped in warm, solid arms. It was still dark. Dax lay beside her, his breathing slow and deep and even.

  For one weak moment, she let herself sink into him, into the heat and warmth and joy of his big body, enjoying the feeling of being secure and cared for.

  In that moment she didn't have to be strong, she didn't have to be in charge, and she reveled in the letting go.

  But she didn't fool herself; it couldn't last.

  In the end, she had only herself to depend on. No matter how much Dax insisted he wanted to be there for her and Taylor, she could see fear lurking deep in his gaze.

  A fear that matched hers.

  He'd been so right, she thought, her heart hitching. There was no road map when it came to matters of the heart, no directions to follow.

  And God help her, she was hopelessly lost.

  * * *

  Chapter 10

  « ^ »

  When Dax woke up the next morning, he had an armful of warm, naked woman, a raging erection and a grin on his face.

  "I could get used to this," he murmured, turning, tucking Amber beneath him. They were in her bedroom, in her bed. He'd carried her there himself sometime during the middle of the most erotic night of his life.

  As her eyes fluttered open, he made his move, swooping down to take her mouth before she could utter a word. A sensuous, sleepy murmur escaped her throat and she rubbed languidly against him, returning his kiss with such heat and passion he groaned.

  At the sound, she went perfectly still.

  Dax raised his head. "Hey there."

  She blinked slowly, looking confused, her usually perfect hair wild and willful.

  Because he couldn't help it, he went for that creamy skin at the base of her neck. "Do you have any idea how sexy you are?" he asked.