The Once and Future Father

by Marie Ferrarella

  “I was just thinking…”

  Damn, why did his throat suddenly feel so dry? And why were his thoughts breaking up like so much wet tissue in a gale? It wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen her nude before. He had.

  Maybe that was just the trouble. He knew exactly what she looked like, devoid of clothing and with the moonlight caressing her flesh. His very breath stopped in his lungs until he forced it out again.

  Despite what she knew were his best efforts, she felt Dylan’s fingers brush against her breast as one button eluded him. Heat instantly fanned out from the point of contact, spreading through her like wildfire in the peak of a long, dry summer. She felt her blood begin to rush through her. It took her a second to catch her breath.

  “What?” she coaxed softly. “What was it you were thinking?”

  As if he could actually think when she was like this. When he wanted her like this. “Damn it, Lucy, you’re making this hard.”

  Her smile curved along her lips slowly, like a sultry summer breeze teasing the trees. “Are you sure you want to be doing that?”

  All that separated him from some gangly, stumbling adolescent was that he was twelve years older and his mouth wasn’t hanging open. “Doing what?”

  “Closing the buttons.” She placed her hands over his, stilling them. Making them press against her. “You don’t want them closed, do you?”

  He shut his eyes, fighting urges, fighting needs. He wanted to be fair to her. That was all he’d ever wanted, to be fair to her, no matter how unfair it ultimately was to him.

  When he opened them again, his eyes met hers. He couldn’t take much more of this. This wasn’t the kind of test he could successfully withstand. “Lucy, I’m only human.”

  “I know,” she whispered. “So am I.”

  Something snapped within him. Or maybe it just melted. Whatever happened, his resistance fell to zero. Unable to hold himself in check any longer, Dylan swept her into his arms. With hunger battering at him relentlessly, he kissed her.

  Over and over again, his mouth slanted across hers, each kiss deeper than the last, each kiss waking up greater needs. It slowly dawned on him that he was insatiable. That when it came to Lucy, he would never be at a point where he had enough.

  Lips trailing along her skin, he found the hollow of her throat and tasted the sultry flavor there. Her heavy sigh and the moan that vibrated along his mouth and in his ears only ignited him further, fanning flames that were already high by any standard.

  Her arms wound tightly around him, Lucy bit back the sob of pure joy and pleasure as she felt his hands pass over her body, claiming what had always been his to begin with.

  She felt her body heating, dissolving to a liquid state as she pressed herself against him. Pulses throughout her body throbbed, reminding her just how much she wanted him, how much she wanted to consummate this invisible union that existed between them. That would always exist between them no matter what words she used to tell herself that it wasn’t so. There was no use fighting it and she wouldn’t even try any longer. Whatever transpired in her life, whatever fortunes came and went, Lucy knew she would always love Dylan.

  There would never be any other man for her heart, because it was already taken.

  By him.

  The air hit her abruptly, freezing everything. Her eyes flew open in dazed surprise. Slowly, they focused on Dylan’s face, seeing frustrated bewilderment and self-disgust in his expression. Something within her began to tremble. She couldn’t bear it if he began to back away from her now.

  “What?” The single word depleted all the air in her lungs.

  He tried to put some distance between them and could only manage a few inches. It was as if his feet were made of lead and there was glue on the bottom of his shoes. He wanted to be here like this with her. And that was just the problem.

  “Dammit, Lucy, we can’t do this.” He looked at her, silently pleading for her help because he could not tear himself away from her. “I can’t do this.”

  He couldn’t just work her up into a fever pitch and then retreat. Could he? She’d all but given him an open invitation to take her. Someone else would have become angry, would have turned away, salvaging what there was left of their pride.

  But someone else didn’t love him the way she did. “Why?” she asked.

  “Because—” Frustration tied his tongue into knots. “Because you’re not ready. Because—”

  And then she understood. He wasn’t rejecting her. He wasn’t thinking of himself, he was thinking of her. Every time I’m ready to give up on you, you do something sweet. No wonder I’m so confused.

  Lucy pressed her fingers gently against his lips, silencing him. “My doctor said I made a remarkable recovery. She said my labor was so fast and I was so healthy, that I’m back to where I was before I became pregnant.” She spoke low, coaxing his hands back to her waist. “I haven’t made love with anyone in over nine months.” Her face upturned, she smiled into his eyes. “Believe me, Dylan, I am more than ready.”

  Maybe, if he tried very hard, he could resist his own urges, clamp down iron gates around them and contain them somehow. But he couldn’t resist her. Hadn’t the strength to turn his back on what she was offering him so willingly, not when every fiber of his body wanted her.

  Not when he wanted her.

  Ever since he’d walked out on her, he’d felt as if half of his soul was missing. A soul he’d only found the very first time he made love with her. When she had shown him that making love was more than a matter of body coming to body, skin touching skin. She’d shown him that there were souls involved, and feelings that transcended the physical.

  Still, uncertainty remained a haunting shadow. He didn’t want to hurt her. That had been the point from the very beginning. Not hurting Lucy.

  “Are you sure?” His voice sounded raspy to his own ears.

  Her smile was teasing and sweet as she felt it curve her mouth. Her eyes holding his, she began to slowly unbutton his shirt, slipping one button out at a time even while she wanted to rip the shirt from his body. But this was more effective. This heightened both their desires. She could see it rising like a flame in his eyes.

  A flame that found a twin within her soul.

  She wanted to tempt him, to ensnare him the way he had her. Lucy knew she’d do whatever she had to do to keep him from backing away again. She couldn’t bear it if he turned away from her now, not when she wanted him so. Needed him so.

  Rising on her toes, her lips a scant breath away from his, she whispered, “Very sure.”

  The last thread of his fraying resistance gave way, snapping. It took supreme effort and control on his part not to take her then and there, not to devour her with his mouth and plunge himself into her the way the demands slamming through his body urged him to.

  He wanted so badly to lose himself within her sweetness, to forget who and what he was. To forget his destiny and the demons that hovered over him, waiting for that one unguarded moment when they could slip through and take possession of him.

  Eagerness seemed to radiate all through him, pulsating in every part of his body. His hands, his mouth, his limbs. Reining himself in as much as he could, Dylan forced himself to go slowly.

  Even as the madness threatened to take over, he knew he wouldn’t hurt Lucy for the world.

  As his lips found hers again, and his hands worshiped her body, divesting her of her clothing, he felt something moist along her cheek. Drawing his head back, he saw the shadow of tears staining her skin.

  Dammit, he was hurting her, he upbraided himself angrily.

  “Just something in my eye,” she murmured.

  And then, her fingers tangling in his hair, she brought his mouth back to hers. Not for the world would she tell him that they were tears of happiness. That for this one shining moment, they were together again and she was undyingly glad of it. She didn’t want to frighten him away.

  Optimistic to a fault, she had still become too much the realis
t to believe that what was between them this moment could last forever. He didn’t want it to. But it existed now and that was as much as she could hope for.

  There were no guarantees in life. There were only moments to be seized and savored.

  And remembered.

  Like now.

  When he felt her long, graceful fingers brush along his belly, tugging away at his belt, every sinew within him tightened, threatening to snap apart like so many dry strands of spaghetti.

  Did she have any idea what she was doing to him, how much control he was exercising not to ravage her here and now? He doubted it.

  Dylan caught his breath, his blood pumping wildly as she nipped at his throat, her hands slipping along his hips, moving his jeans and his underwear down simultaneously. He gripped her buttocks, kneading them, his thumbs forming light semicircles along her flesh. She leaned into him, arching her back, driving him up to the very apex of insanity.

  He pulled himself back from the brink, though there was no way to decelerate the speed with which his heart was hammering. His body burned where she had touched it, undressing him. His body burned to be touched by her. All of her.

  If he had thought of it, he would have carried her to the bed, but he didn’t think of it. All he could manage to do was to sink down to his knees, worshiping the woman fate had brought back to him a second time.

  Brought back to taunt him and tantalize him with what he couldn’t ultimately have.

  But that was for later.

  He had now. And now was all he could hope for.

  His fingers linked with hers, he brought her down to the floor, every micro-inch marked with hot, searing, openmouthed kisses.

  And then he was over her. Looking into those eyes of hers that held his soul. Hands still joined above her head, he lowered himself slowly into her.

  And found the other half of his soul waiting for him, just where he had left it.

  The ride was sweet, swift, consuming, and when it was over and they were spent, he held her in his arms and prayed for forever.

  And absolution for what he’d just done. It would make the leaving that much more difficult for both of them. Most assuredly for him.

  Chapter 13

  Guilt came, strong and hard, nudging aside the soothing feeling of peace until it disappeared altogether. Damn him, anyway. It wasn’t just her physical condition he should have been mindful of, he upbraided himself, it was her emotional one as well. She was alone, deserted by her lover, deprived of the brother she loved, a new mother faced with challenges everywhere she turned. And some maniac who had broken into her home and her store was still out there on the loose.

  And he had complicated things by bringing her back to a place they had inhabited a year ago. A place they couldn’t remain.

  What the hell was the matter with him? Why couldn’t he get a better grip on himself?

  All he could do was ask her forgiveness. He’d never asked anyone’s forgiveness before. The words tangled on his tongue and stuck to one another, refusing to form coherently.

  “Lucy,” he began slowly, his tone warning her that they were drifting back to where they’d been a few short hours ago. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

  Lying beside him on the floor, Lucy wanted to hang on to the euphoria, the magic just a little longer. Surely he couldn’t deprive her of that. Slowly, she turned into him and looked up at his face.

  “You start apologizing to me now, Detective McMorrow, and your police buddies are going to have to come here and book me on charges of justifiable homicide.” Humor quirked her mouth as she rose up on her elbow. “No court in the world would convict me.”

  Her dark hair was brushing along her breast, not quite covering the swell. Tempting him all over again. Dylan groaned, hating his weakness.

  Loving her.

  “Not if you go in front of them like that,” he agreed. Hungry for her all over again, surrendering to the inevitable, he cupped the back of her head and brought her mouth to his.

  He meant only to savor just one more kiss fleetingly. One more for the road. The long, winding road that would lead him away from her.

  When Lucy turned into him, her body sealing to his, he knew he was lying to himself again.

  He’d been lying to himself all along, thinking he could be counted among the living. It was only when he was with Lucy, when he breathed in the scent of her hair, when he touched her face, when he looked at her the way he was looking at her now that he was truly alive.

  Or even wanted to be.

  Urges hammering at him, Dylan gave up the pretense that once was enough. A thousand times would not be enough if he had to ultimately go on without her. He knew he would be faced with that all too soon because even as he held her against him, even as he surrendered himself to the desires that were vibrating, large, whole and demanding, between them, he knew that he was going to have to walk away from her again.

  Nothing had changed that. The only thing that would change is that this time, it was going to be even harder than before. Because this time, he was not only in love with her, but with her daughter as well.

  He hadn’t thought that the hole he bore in his heart could be any larger than it was, but he had been wrong.

  But he wasn’t going to think about that now, not when the night loomed, dark and endless, before him and she was so willing in his arms.

  He murmured her name against her mouth as he took her to where there was only room for the two of them, with no thoughts of tomorrow, no regrets of today. He made love to every inch of her with every inch of himself. It was little enough, he felt, that he could give her.

  The shrill ringing noise by his head jarred him into wakefulness. A second later, Dylan recognized the sound. Lucy’s bedroom telephone was ringing. Suddenly alert, Dylan snapped up into a sitting position, reaching for the receiver even as something warm stirred against him.

  Warm sensations traveled over the length of his body as he remembered where he was. Last night returned to him with crystal clarity.

  He didn’t want to be answering a telephone, he wanted to be making love with Lucy all over again. No doubt about it, he thought, the woman was highly addictive. But it was an addiction he would have gladly lived with had circumstances been different.

  Dragging his hand through his hair, wiping away the last remnants of sleep, he barked a “hello” into the receiver, then took a sharp breath as he felt her hand creep up on his thigh. Desire came, unannounced but not unexpected. He covered her hand with his, listening to the voice on the other end of the line.

  “Your cell phone’s dead,” Watley told him. There was a tinge of exasperation in his voice. “I’ve been trying to reach you for over half an hour. You forget to charge it again?”

  “Yeah.” Dylan looked down at Lucy, curled up against him, her hair still partially in her face. He’d forgotten a lot of things last night. Like where he was supposed to tread. He blew out a breath, trying to focus his mind. “What time is it?”

  “That depends on who you are.”

  Riddles. Watley had more annoying habits… Dylan felt impatience beginning to nibble away at him. He looked at his wristwatch, the only thing he hadn’t taken off last night.

  “Watley, it’s five past six in the morning. It’s too early for one of your damn puzzles. What the hell do you mean, that depends on who you are?”

  There was a weariness in Watley’s voice that sheer lack of sleep couldn’t bring about. “That time stands still when you’re dead.”

  His partner had his full attention now. Beside him, Lucy was sitting up. Dylan could feel her eyes on him, a silent question in them.

  “Who’s dead?” he asked Watley.

  “Michelson.” It was the accountant who had approached them, offering what they had hoped was their first solid lead. “Two joggers found a decomposing body this morning in Heritage Park.”

  Ritchie’s body had been found not a mile away from his home. Heritage Park was all the way over
on the other side of town. The killers got around, Dylan thought grimly. So much for hoping Michelson had run off to another country and could still be tracked down.

  “Are they sure?”

  “He still had his college ring on. The guys at the medical examiner’s office are confirming his ID even as we speak. Alexander tracked down Michelson’s dentist and got his dental records.”

  Two murders. The man they were after wasn’t afraid of killing to cover his trail. He’d been right to have Lucy guarded. “Where are you?”

  “Right now, I’m at the coroner’s office, but I’m on my way out. I’ll meet you at the station whenever you feel you can tear yourself away. Captain wants to hold a meeting. And McMorrow—”

  Dylan swung his legs out over the side of the bed, looking around for his pants. He remembered that they were out in the hall, along with the rest of his clothes. And hers. “Yeah?”

  “Charge your damn phone, will you? I had to waste time, calling around to get this number. Your lady friend isn’t listed.”

  “That’s ’cause she’s smart.”

  Dylan hung up the receiver. Lady friend, he thought. As if the term could even begin to describe what Lucy was to him. Turning toward her, he discovered that Lucy was already out of bed and, for the most part, dressed. He knew there was no underwear beneath the clothes she’d shrugged on and the knowledge went a long way toward undermining the rest of his thoughts.

  There was concern mingled with understanding in her eyes. She’d found his jeans and brought them back into the room for him. “You have to go?”

  “Yeah. Lucy—”

  There were a thousand things he wanted to tell her, but he couldn’t wrap his tongue around a single coherent thought. All he could say was her name and let it linger in the air between them.

  She heard the quandary in his voice, the hesitation. He was regretting last night already, regretting it because he was afraid that she might think it was opening the door to something. She didn’t feel up to telling him that she knew it wasn’t, that she knew nothing had changed. Not the way he felt, not the way she felt. But it had been a beautiful night and she didn’t want to spoil it now.