by Donna Hill
“This is where I do all the designing for the buildings,” he said with a note of pride.
Desiree stepped into the space that was filled with the tools of his trade: a drafting table, gooseneck lamp, another computer, filing cabinets and a wall filled with designs.
She turned to him. “I never knew you designed,” she said, surprised by the obvious talent. She took a closer look at the sketches.
“I don’t…not really.” He shrugged. “I kind of fool around. I took a couple of design classes just so that I would be able to get my ideas across.”
“I’m impressed.”
If he could blush he would have. “That means a lot coming from you.”
“It’s true, Lincoln.” She stepped close to him and looked into his eyes. “You were always talented. And you found a way to express it. It’s a gift.”
“Like yours?”
She turned away. “We’re not talking about me.”
“When will we talk about you, Desi? You can’t stay in hibernation forever. That’s why I brought you the easel and the paints. Art is in your blood, it’s like breathing to you. How long do you think you can go without it?”
She wrapped her arms around her body. “I’ve tried, Lincoln. I just need some time, that’s all.”
“But you seemed…happy with the gifts. Was that all an act?”
She took a breath. “I…I didn’t want to disappoint you.”
“I see.”
“No. I don’t think you do, Lincoln. You weren’t in that room that night. You don’t know what it’s like to be so terrified that you can’t breathe, can’t sleep, are afraid of the dark, of being alone. Of having nightmares that are too real and the one thing you love is the catalyst for the recurring horror of it all.”
She turned and ran from the room, down the stairs and along the hallway to her bedroom. She shut and locked the door behind her. What she didn’t say was that even Lincoln was a painful reminder of what she could never have, as well.
* * *
Lincoln decided it was best to leave Desiree alone. It was apparent that all he’d attempted to do to help only made things worse. He walked into the living room to the bar and fixed himself a glass of rum and Coke.
He took his drink and turned on the stereo, slipping in his Kem CD. As the cool, jazzy sounds of the crooner’s voice gently filled the room, Lincoln leaned back against the couch cushions and sipped his drink, contemplating the past few days and especially the events of the evening.
It didn’t make sense to him that Desiree didn’t want to report what happened in her apartment to the police. Although her explanation sounded somewhat reasonable, he still had big doubts in his mind. If that guy would go so far as to practically rape her, what else was he capable of? He shuddered to think what would have happened had he not shown up when he did. He still had not told her about his conversation with her mother. Everything happened too fast, and now definitely was not a good time.
Lincoln sighed deeply and looked down the hall to where Desiree barricaded herself in her room. He’d heard the lock click on the door. Was she afraid of him, too? Or was it simply another one of her indirect “stay away from me” messages?
He couldn’t figure her out. One minute she acted as if things could be the same between them and then the next she acted as if he were her sworn enemy. Whatever it was, he was just as determined to get to the bottom of it all. He was not going to let her walk away from him this time.
Lincoln put his half-finished drink down on the coffee table, picked up the remote, aimed it at the television and put it on mute. At least the TV would keep him company.
He must have dozed off, because the next thing he heard was a piercing scream that raised the hairs on his arms. He jumped up, disoriented and looked around in the semidark room. The scream came again, more intense this time.
Scrambling to his feet, he ran down the hall to Desiree’s room.
“Desi!” He pounded on the door. “Desi!”
He heard sobbing coming from the other side. He tried the knob. The door was locked. He rammed his shoulder against it…once, twice. The third time it gave way and the lock broke free from the frame. What he saw when he burst through the door chilled him to his bones.
Chapter 30
Lincoln ran into the room to where Desiree was huddled in a corner, crying hysterically.
“Desi.” He got down on the floor next to her and put his arms around her shaking shoulders. “It’s okay. I’m here.” He looked around the room, thinking the worst.
“Fire…smoke…I can’t breathe.” She coughed and gagged as if she were back in the burning room.
“Desiree, you’re safe. There’s no fire.” He stroked her face and turned her head to look at him. “There’s no fire, Desiree.”
Desiree blinked several times until Lincoln came into focus. She snapped her head around and took in her surroundings. She grabbed Lincoln’s shirt, then pressed her face against his chest.
“It’s okay, baby. Come on, let me help you.” He got her to her feet and walked with her over to the bed. “Lie down. Relax. Can I get you anything?”
She shook her head as she stretched out on the bed on her side. He sat next to her. “Try to get some rest.” He brushed her damp hair away from her forehead. “I’ll be right in the next room if you need me.”
“No! Please don’t leave me.” She sat up. “Please.”
“Okay, okay. Relax. I’ll stay right here.” He settled her back down and pulled the covers up over her shoulders.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked gently.
She was silent for a few minutes and then began to speak in slow measured tones. “It was like I was back in the room again and I couldn’t get out. I was choking and smoke and fire were everywhere.” She shuddered.
Lincoln rubbed her back. “You’re safe here with me.”
“When is it going to stop, Lincoln? I can’t live like this.” She pressed her face against his chest and he held her close.
“Time is a great healer,” he said. “Give yourself some time.”
She sighed heavily, eased back and curled her body into the fetal position on the bed. “I thought that’s what I was doing when I came to Sag Harbor.”
“Did you have the nightmares there?”
She shook her head. “No.” Her eyes found his. “I was almost starting to feel like myself again.”
“You should have stayed.”
“Maybe,” she murmured. “But I’ll never really feel better if I don’t get to the bottom of what’s really bothering me. I have to find some way to get beyond the images and sense of helplessness. The worst part of it is that it’s all brought on by the very thing that I love.”
“I still think the only way to beat it is to pick up a brush and paint it out of your system—one stroke at a time.”
Her stomach knotted.
“And you will when you’re ready. There’s plenty to keep us busy until then. Tell me a little more about this friend of yours, Allison.”
Desiree propped a pillow under her head and began telling him all about Allison’s current assignment and her connections to Jackson.
“My suggestion is that we get this Jackson guy involved as soon as possible. I want him on that creep Hampton like white on rice.” The night table rattled as his fist connected with it. “He can’t get away with what he did to you.” He turned to look at her. “Had he ever tried anything like that before?”
“No. The most he’s ever done is to ask me out to dinner.”
“Did you go?” he asked, a flash of jealousy sparking in his dark eyes.
“Of course not,” she snapped. “I had no intention of mixing business with pleasure.”
“Well, it’s pretty apparent that he can’t take no for an answer.”
“Let’s not talk about Carl anymore tonight,” she said, watching the muscles tense beneath the taut brown flesh of Lincoln’s face. She instinctively sensed that he was getting himself worked up again.
She patted his arm. “Thank you,” she said in a soft whisper.
He raised his head and looked at her. Cautiously he extended his finger and traced her jawline. A delicious shiver ran along Desiree’s spine and her eyelids momentarily fluttered.
“Don’t you know by now that I would do anything in this world for you? I tried to believe that yes, I once loved you, and that there was still a soft spot in my heart for you and nothing more. When I saw you again I knew it was a lie. I love you as much now as I did then. It hasn’t changed. And I’m here for you, Desiree. You don’t have to deal with any of this by yourself.”
She cupped his face in her hands and rose up on her knees. In the moment that her lips met his, all the loneliness, the fear and the sorrow vanished. The years apart were gone when he pressed a bit harder and wrapped his arms around her and she could feel his heart pound against her breasts.
Tentatively he teased her lip with the tip of his tongue until her mouth slowly opened in welcome.
The sweetness of her mouth worked like an aphrodisiac and raced straight to his head before setting off sparks in his limbs.
Desiree sighed into his mouth while his tongue teased and explored, reacquainting himself with her taste and textures. Her nimble painter’s fingers massaged and caressed his broad back as she visualized those hard muscles and the three-inch scar he’d gotten as a child when he fell out of a tree.
His hands found her waist and his thumbs toyed with the elastic band of her sweatpants, teasing her skin until it began to warm beneath his fingertips. Bold now, he slid his hands under her T-shirt and across her back.
Lincoln’s fingers felt like hot coals, Desiree thought, and desperately wanted their heat to ignite the rest of her body.
She eased back, breaking the seal of their kiss. She traced his lips with her fingers and relished in seeing the passion dance in his gaze. The way he looked at her with such hunger raised the peaks of her nipples to hardened pebbles simply by imagining what he could do if he put his mouth…right there.
She lifted her T-shirt over her head and guided his hands to the front clasp of her bra.
Lincoln’s breathing rose at the sight of her. Her breasts were still exquisite, round and slightly firm, with perfect nipples that begged to be taken into his mouth. He teased them first with the pads of his thumbs while he massaged and played with the weight of her breasts in his hands.
Her soft sigh and the instinctive movement of her body only heightened Lincoln’s desire for her. He took one nipple into his mouth and ran his tongue across it slow and teasing as if it were a piece of delectable chocolate.
Desiree shuddered—her moan heavy and filled with longing. But Lincoln took his time. It had been five years since he’d made love to this woman of his dreams and he had no intention of running to the finish line now.
Desiree worked the buttons of his shirt until his bare chest was exposed. She played with the warm skin, her fingers skimming from his neck down to the waist of his pants where she was stopped by the belt and zipper. But without hesitation she unfastened the belt and made quick work of the zipper.
Seconds later she held him in her hand and a rush roared through her body, making her momentarily light-headed. He was just as she remembered—only better, if that was possible. The velvet feel of his skin covering the length and breadth and hardness of him always drove her wild. She began stroking him, creating a hot pocket with her hands, a mere hint of what she would feel like inside.
“Desi,” he groaned and eased her back onto the tumble of overstuffed pillows. “I’ve dreamed about this,” he murmured as he placed kisses along her neck. “More times than I can count.” He kicked out of his pants and tossed them to the floor. “I want to make you remember tonight.” He took a nipple into his mouth and suckled it. Her body arched in response. “And what I’m going to give you every night from now on.”
He stretched her out on the bed and slid off her sweatpants and her red thong panties. She still wore red, he thought with a smile.
The perfect dark triangle between her thighs glistened at the tip, beckoning him to sample the nectar that flowed in readiness.
He knelt above her, heating her flesh with his gaze as his eyes trailed the length of her naked form.
“You’re still so beautiful,” he said barely above a whisper.
She reached up for him, pulling him down to her. With a hunger that frightened her she held him, kissing him with all the desire and longing that had been stamped out by years of neglect. She hadn’t been with another man since the day she left Lincoln’s apartment five years earlier. It was almost as if she’d saved herself for this very moment.
Lincoln moved her arms from around him and began a slow, mind-blowing tour of her body. His mouth did things to her overheated skin that should have been illegal. He played, he teased, he nibbled, he caressed. He toyed with the tender inside of her thighs until she began to whimper and tremble.
Gently he spread her thighs and his penis pumped and throbbed in response to the pink wet wall that dared him to venture inside.
Lincoln lowered his head and let his tongue flick over the hardened swell of her sex. She cried out and gripped a handful of sheet in her fists as her body arched in response. He delighted in her reaction and worked twice as hard to please her.
Desiree tried to contain the surge of pleasure that rolled through her in waves, but she couldn’t as a powerful climax gripped her and wouldn’t let go.
Light and dark danced behind her eyes as the electric jolts jerked her entire body, forcing Lincoln to firmly grip her hips and keep them both from being tossed off the bed.
By degrees her cries quieted to sexy purrs and her unbridled thrashing settled into intermittent shudders.
Lincoln caressed her body, every inch of her skin supple and warm to the touch. He kissed her tenderly at the center of her heat before easing up the length of her body until he could look down into her eyes.
“Look at me,” he said, his voice raw with need.
Slowly Desiree’s eyes fluttered open.
With either hand he lifted her parted thighs and braced them against his forearms and her legs across his back.
“Remember this,” he whispered as he pushed deep inside her in one long stroke.
Desiree opened her mouth but no words could escape to describe the exquisite euphoria that filled every crevice of her being.
Tears wells in her eyes as Lincoln began to move in and out of her, stirring up sensations that were even more powerful than his oral exploration of her. Her legs tightened around him and her fingers pressed into his spine when she recognized that in moments both of them would climax together.
Bright white pinpoints of light burst behind Lincoln’s lids. He felt as if his entire body gave way, his spirit separating from his body to merge with hers. He felt her contracting and releasing around him, bringing on another release that shook him to his core.
She held him like someone gripping a life raft in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean as wave upon wave of pleasure rolled through her.
Damp, hearts racing, and feeling totally satisfied, they lay tangled in each other’s embrace.
Desiree rested her head on Lincoln’s chest, soothed by the rhythmic beating of his heart. Her body hummed the way it could only after being loved the way she had been. She listened without comment to Lincoln’s words of love and hope for the future for them.
But instead of allowing herself to truly usher in the glow of his love, she silently anguished over what had trans
pired between them and worried about how she would be able to tell him that it could never happen again.
Chapter 31
The aroma of home fries, eggs and bacon drifted to Desiree, gently stirring her from sleep.
She stretched her arms above her head, causing the sheet to slip down, revealing her nakedness. The previous night with Lincoln raced back to her mind with blinding speed. Her body tingled in response and then her reality slowly settled in.
Turning on her side, she listened to the sounds of pots, running water and Lincoln’s deep baritone as he sang along with Luther.
It would be so easy to slip into a relationship with Lincoln again, allow herself to fully love him again. But she knew how unfair that would be to him. She knew how much he wanted a family and she couldn’t do that to him. She loved him enough to let him find his happiness with someone who could give him what he wanted.
She looked across the room and found her discarded clothing folded neatly on the chair in the corner. She smiled. Lincoln was always the more organized of the two, a trait that had pleasantly surprised her when they moved in together. He took pride in a neat place and slowly got her into the habit of organizing everything from her clothes and art supplies to her time. It had served her well over the years, especially when she started running her own business.
Lincoln was everything a woman could want: kind, generous, intelligent, a wonderful lover, a savvy businessman and handsome to boot. He’d make some lucky woman a wonderful husband and father to their children.
Her heart ached knowing that the lucky woman could never be her.
She pulled herself out of bed, crossed the room to the dresser and took out a clean set of underwear, then went to the closet and chose a plain white cotton blouse and a pair of jeans.
