by R. E. Hunter
Fuck, how could I have let this happen?
Tears stung the backs of his eyes, emotion forcing its way up his throat, screaming for release.
His fingers burned to touch her, to feel the warmth of her skin, a small assurance that she was okay, alive. Today could’ve turned out so differently—he could’ve lost her forever. Just the idea tore through him, nearly bowling him over.
Gently, he slipped his hand beneath hers on the bed, leaning his chest against the mattress. Then he rested his forehead on her hand as tears slipped from his eyes.
“Jesus, Embry. I’m so sorry, baby.”
Embry blinked her eyes open, disoriented. Her entire body ached, and she was groggy as hell. Attempting a deep breath, a searing pain shot through her as her chest expanded. Ouch, fuck!
Her left hand had fallen asleep, the painful pricks and tingles causing her to wake. Her eyes shifted downward to find the culprit, a head of messy brown hair resting heavily against her.
She flexed her fingers, causing the head to pop up, and she was met with dark, stormy blue eyes, tears hanging on his cheeks and clinging to his perfect jaw.
Slowly, she lifted her hand and cupped the side of his face. “Luke.”
Tears clouded her eyes as he leaned into her stiff fingers. Then he closed his eyes, his face crumpling, unconcealed pain marring on his beautiful features.
“Baby,” she croaked. Emotions flooded her, threatening to overwhelm. She fought back tears, afraid if she started crying, she might never stop.
She was alive, she was safe. A little worse for wear, but that was all right. She had Luke… they had each other.
He gently pressed his own hand against hers, pinning it there on his cheek, and smiled with effort. “Hi, beautiful.”
Embry gently eased into the tub, sliding between Luke’s legs, her back coming to rest against his solid chest.
“Mmmm, God,” she hummed as the hot water eased her aching body.
“Just me, baby,” he said, his deep chuckle vibrating through her.
She’d been out of the hospital a little over two weeks and finally had the doctor’s permission to take a bath. It was the simple things.
He nuzzled her ear, kissing the spot right above on the side of her head where she’d had stitches for a particularly bad cut. He’d taken to mindlessly grazing his fingers over the sensitive skin, as if reminding himself of what they’d been through, what they’d survived. “How does it feel?”
She tilted her head, angling her neck to look up at her gorgeous man, her hero, her rock. “Amazing.”
Her ribs still pained her with every breath, every movement. It would be a few more weeks before she really recovered from her injuries and the surgery, but she improved daily, moving around more and more, and she was starting to feel normal again. She was missing her final exams this week, but due to the extenuating circumstances, she would be making them up soon, once she was able to sit up for a few hours at a time.
“Luke.”
His chest expanded beneath her as he dragged in a deep breath. They still hadn’t spoken about that night, about everything. At first it had been too hard, too emotional. There had been questions from police, from her family, and she didn’t have the energy or the ability to handle the added stress.
Luke had barely left her side during her stay at the hospital. He’d spent every night beside her, sleeping in the hard chair next to her bed until the nurses rolled in an extra one for him. Then he’d laid beside her, his hand hanging off the side of the bed in an uncomfortable position just so that it was there for her if she needed it. To feel him, to touch him, to pull herself from the nightmares that she’d begun to have.
He’d sat beside her during the day, bringing her magazines, playing cards, sneaking her macaroni and cheese when he could, and eating the hospital food right alongside her when he couldn’t. He tried his best to make her smile, but not to make her laugh, because that hurt too much.
He was there for whatever she needed, doing anything he could to make her more comfortable, happy.
Except for talking about the accident.
She watched as the guilt slowly ate away at him, dark circles forming beneath his eyes, the stress of the entire situation pulling him under as she was desperately trying to claw her way out.
She’d never blamed him, could never blame him. He’d given up everything to try to remove Sydney from their lives. They’d known she was crazy, but no one could’ve foreseen the lengths to which she’d go.
Embry had been beating herself up as well, coming up with every ‘what if’ in the book. What if she hadn’t run into Sydney that day? What if she hadn’t come at her the way she did, told her there was nothing left she could do? Had it provoked her? Set her off? Issued a challenge? They weren’t ever likely to know. But what she did know was they were finally free.
They’d received a call just yesterday from the detective that had been working on Embry’s case. Sydney had finally been found and arrested. She’d been placed in an involuntary psychiatric hold after displaying severely erratic behavior. There was no telling what would happen to her, but whether she was placed in a mental hospital or sat in jail awaiting trial, it didn’t make a difference to Luke or Embry. She was out of their lives; they were safe, free. No more looking over their shoulders, no more threats or invasions into their privacy. They would finally have peace.
It was possible they’d have to go through another grueling trial, but they’d deal with that when it came up.
Embry weaved her fingers with Luke’s, pulling his arms tight around her. “You promised,” she softly reminded him. And he had. He’d promised that when Sydney was found, when they were truly safe, that they’d talk.
She felt his head shake behind her. “There’s nothing to talk about, baby. It’s over.”
“Yes, there is.” She nodded. “And I’m not letting you out of this tub until we do. We can turn wrinkly for all I care, and when we’re starving I’ll order pizza to the tub—”
“Pizza to the tub, huh?” he interrupted. “You never did manage ordering pizza to bed, I’m not sure I’m confident in your ability to feed us in the tub.”
Embry tilted her head back and narrowed her eyes at him. “You let me worry about that. Besides, if you would stop being such a stubborn ass, we could leave before a single one of your delicate fingers begins to prune.”
He chuckled again, then kissed the top of her head. “Fine, you’ve convinced me. Let’s talk, sweetheart.”
“Really?” Although he’d agreed, she hadn’t expected him to go through with it. She saw how the accident had affected him, knew how hard it’d been. Her eyes softened as she turned her face toward his. “Thank you.”
“I promised, didn’t I?” He sat her up gently, then reached forward and flicked the drain on the tub.
She frowned. “What’re you doing?”
He stepped from the tub, pulled a towel around his waist, and then held out a hand to her. “If we’re going to talk, I need to look at you.” His expression was intense, somber. “Come on, it’s probably not good for you to soak too long anyway.”
She decided not to argue. He helped her out of the tub, his eyes moving straight to her stomach. Most of her bruises had faded, but she had four small incisions from her surgery that would most likely leave scars. His eyes filled with pain, and he quickly looked away as he grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her.
It was more than she could take, the man who had loved her body, knew every inch of it better than she knew it herself, could barely stand to see her naked. It hurt her in a way she wasn’t even sure how to deal with. She had her own issues with vanity, and he wasn’t helping.
Growing bold, she dropped the towel and grabbed his hand.
“Embry—” He clenched his jaw looking past her.
“Look at me, Luke,” she pleaded. “Touch me.” She forced his fingers, skimming them across her stomach.
The skin around his eyes creased in a pained s
tare, but he gently moved the pads of his fingers over her skin, tracing each of the incisions.
She sighed quietly, his warm touch sending shivers throughout her body. For the past few weeks, he’d found a way to constantly touch her, but always in a protective, possessive way—a hand on her, an arm around her. He’d hug her lightly, hold her when she could stand it, give her sweet kisses, but he’d never really touch her. Not like that. She missed the feel of his hands exploring her body, his heated stare warming her skin, the feel of him moving inside of her.
It wasn’t entirely his fault, she knew that. When it hurt just to breathe, sex wasn’t really an option. But it wasn’t that. It was the agony on his face, the fact that he turned his eyes away from her that made her chest ache worse than the fractured ribs.
His fingers continued to explore her stomach, softly, gently, as his eyes found hers. “You think I don’t want to touch you? To look at you?” he asked quietly.
She nodded, afraid if she spoke she’d be overcome with all of the emotions she’d been holding back.
Luke reached up and cupped her face, then he dragged his thumb over her mouth, his lips following. His tongue pushed past her lips, stroking slowly, almost teasingly against hers. She pushed up on her tiptoes to get closer. Her hard nipples, painfully erect and sensitive, grazed against his chest. She could feel his need, it mirrored her own. But she could also feel the hesitation, and a moment later, he broke the kiss, resting her forehead against hers.
“I want you, Embry.” He pulled away, looking sincerely into her eyes. “God, I want you more than anything. You’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life. Nothing’s changed—l—”
“Then why—” She attempted to cut him off, but he silenced her with a finger against her lips.
Grabbing her hand, he led her into the bedroom and helped her ease into bed and onto her side, before crawling in next to her.
He spread his hand on her naked hip, touching her gently, slowly. “I want… need… to touch you, to feel you, Embry. But then I see those incisions, I see the pain you’re in, and I can barely fucking breathe. I did this to you, I caused this.” And there it was—the guilt rearing its ugly head.
She couldn’t stand the torment in his eyes, and she wished she knew how to ease it, how to make him understand.
Her lips curved into a sad, sympathetic smile, and it made his heart constrict in his chest. Her kindness and understanding somehow made it so much worse. She was the one who had been targeted, nearly killed—she’d been through major surgery, a hospital stay, not to mention the stress and the nightmares she’d been having ever since. But it seemed as if he’d come out of all it more broken than she was.
Every nightmare Embry had, every wince of pain, every time he saw the scars now marring her flat stomach, he felt a pressure on his chest, a weight that he couldn’t seem to overcome.
But for the first time tonight, he’d seen pain in her eyes that wasn’t from her surgery or the broken ribs. It was from him. It was the fact that he hadn’t touched her, had turned away from her naked body.
Enough, he told himself.
He wouldn’t let his guilt hurt her, too. He knew what she needed, and truthfully, he needed it, too. More than anything he wanted to be inside of her, lose himself in her, but sex was out of the question until she healed.
But other things… He decided right then and there, if she could forgive him, he’d forgive himself. Part of him would always blame himself for what had happened, but he couldn’t go back and change things. They were free now, at peace, and he wasn’t going to let the specter of Sydney haunt them through his guilt.
He leaned in, pressing his lips gently to hers. “Turn onto your back, baby.”
Her eyes questioned as she slowly eased onto her back, and he leaned over her, careful not to jostle or bump her. Then he bent his head and ran his nose up her neck, breathing her in. He found the spot she loved, the hollow right beneath her ear, and his lips and tongue teased her there, nipping, causing a soft sigh to fall from her lips.
Working his way down her neck, he kissed a path across her collarbone and down until he reached her perfect tits. His lips came down on one pink, hardened nipple, sucking it into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it, while he teased the other between his thumb and forefinger.
She gasped in pleasure, and pushed herself up with effort. “But Luke, we can’t.”
Those big, green eyes looked up at him, clouded with need, and he smiled in answer. “Relax, baby. Just let me love you.”
His cock was a heavy weight between his legs, and he ached to be inside of her, but he pushed it to the back of his mind. Tonight was for her.
She rested her head back against the pillow and tried to take deep, even breaths as he explored every inch of her body with his lips and hands and tongue. He paid special attention to the four small incisions across her stomach, kissing them softly as he looked up at her through his thick eyelashes.
“You’re so beautiful, baby. I’ll never turn away from you again.”
Tears welled in her eyes, and she finally relaxed, and let go.
She trembled beneath him as he pushed her legs apart, touching and teasing her as he worked his way up her thighs to where she needed him most.
He didn’t mess around, didn’t make her beg. He slid two fingers inside of her and licked a path straight through her center, igniting a fire in her core. She’d never wanted him more than right now, when she couldn’t have him. She was desperate to feel him move inside of her, to feel the connection between them. But somehow, he gave her that with his mouth and hands, making love to her the best way he could without causing her more pain.
Her breathing became more labored, her ribs throbbing in pain as he worked her up. But then he slowed, glancing up at her with concern.
“No, please. Don’t stop, Luke.” She needed it, and she had a feeling that somehow he did, too.
With every pass of his tongue, every caress of his fingers, he mended her broken pieces, fusing them back together and making her whole once more. Soon the ache in her chest was overcome by the pleasure between her legs as he sucked her clit into his mouth and sent her spiraling over the edge into a sea of bliss.
The weeks rolled by and Luke and Embry continued to heal. The pain in her ribs was now nothing more than a twinge if she moved the wrong way, and the guilt-induced dark circles beneath Luke’s eyes had begun to fade.
She’d finally sat for her finals, but probably wouldn’t hear back about her grades for another month or so. With all the downtime she’d had to study, she wasn’t worried.
Luke had started working from his home office to spend more time with her. With everything that had happened, she hadn’t secured an internship at another firm, so she’d started working with him. They had always been a good team, and when she stopped being a pain in the ass long enough to listen to anything he said, she actually learned a lot.
When Luke had to leave to meet a client or go to court, Morgan, Brett or Jeremy would stop by to keep her company, and her parents had taken to coming to visit at least once a week to cook for them both.
On one such day, Embry was relaxing in the sun on the back deck, doing legal research for Luke, when the doorbell rang. Morgan was standing there at the door, grinning like a Cheshire cat, with a small caravan of older women who seemed to speak nothing but Greek behind her.
Embry blinked at Morgan, then at the string of women piling out of the van parked behind Morgan’s SUV. “Um, hi, Morgan. What’s this?”
Morgan shrugged. “My entourage, what do you think it is?”
“I—um…” Embry shrugged and gave up, waving Morgan and her entourage into the foyer.
They stepped inside, carrying large racks of heavy garment bags.
“Upstairs, first door to the right,” Morgan directed. Then she turned her attention to Embry. “Up you go.”
Okay, this was getting strange. “What is this, Morgan?”
Her mouth curved into a wide smile. “You couldn’t come to the dresses, so I brought the dresses to you!”
“You mean…” Embry trailed off, watching the parade of women, who she now assumed were the shop owner and team of seamstresses, climb the stairs with rack after rack.
“Yes!” Morgan clapped excitedly. “Wedding dress shopping!”
The last woman walked through the door with a large tray of fresh fruit and a bottle of champagne, and Morgan and Embry followed them up into the master bedroom.
Morgan closed the door, a wicked gleam in her eye. Why they were doing this all in her bedroom, Embry had no idea, but she went with it, like most crazy things Morgan did.
Throwing open the French doors to the balcony, she let in the fresh air and sunlight, then she stretched out on the chaise lounge. One of the tiny women fussed over her, pouring her a glass of champagne and handing her a plate of fruit as Morgan was helped into the first dress.
It was an incredible feeling seeing her best friend since childhood trying on wedding dresses. But as stunning as they were, they didn’t seem Morgan’s style at all.
“I love this one,” Embry said. She watched as Morgan did a twirl and the gorgeous lace train of the dress floated weightlessly around her feet. “But it doesn’t seem like one you’d like.”
“I don’t look good in it?” Morgan pouted playfully.
Embry rolled her eyes. “You look good in anything. I’m just surprised, these are more…” —Embry hesitated awkwardly, not wanting to offend her friend— “my style.”
Morgan chuckled. “They are, aren’t they?” She shrugged. “You should try one on!”
Embry’s eyes widened in horror. Wedding dresses? She couldn’t say the thought hadn’t crossed her mind. Especially after all she and Luke had been through together. But it wasn’t something to be forced, and she sure as hell wouldn’t be trying on any white dresses before that time. “I’ll stick to the bridesmaid dresses, thank you very much,” she said, her smile turning into a laugh.
