She was so fucking beautiful. Her hair swung around her shoulders giving him teasing glimpses of her swaying breasts. Skimming his hands over her stomach, he crested her ribcage to cup her breasts and tug at her nipples. She cried out, fucking him faster. Slipping his hands behind her back, he coaxed her into his arms. The angle changed significantly, and for a moment, he thought he was going to lose it, but thankfully, the moment passed.
Shifting slightly, he drove into her from beneath, his hand on her ass. He slid his other hand into her hair and cupped the base of her skull, urging her to meet his lips. Sweat-damp and panting, they ground together as she took him deeper. Their bodies strained, finding a frantic cadence as his last shred of self-control vanished.
“Tess,” he ground out. He’d never seen anything as beautiful as her passion-flushed face. He felt her release trembling like storm clouds on the horizon, but he wanted to watch it wash over her, to see that moment of surrender.
She stared into his eyes as if unable to look away. He thrust harder, wanting to push her headlong into pleasure. Her breath caught, and her pussy began to clench and ripple around him. The tightness of her body and her throaty moan was all he needed to push him over the edge. Release, intense and primal, shuddered through him as aftershocks trembled through her.
Their bodies pulsed where they were still joined. She slumped against his chest, and he stroked his hands over the delicate curve of her spine. As if suddenly uncomfortable, she tried to push from his embrace. He banded his arms around her and held her closer. “Stay,” he murmured.
She rested against him until her breathing quieted and her heartbeat returned to normal. Slowly, she raised her head. He was half-afraid of what he’d see in her eyes. Did she regret the intimacy they’d just shared? He wasn’t about to let her push him away again. He wanted her in his life.
She started to move away. The cool air hit him as soon as she shifted. Bereft at the loss of her warmth, he wrapped his arms around her.
“Just let me hold you for a little while,” he murmured.
Pulling back, she looked at him, surprised, but her eyes softened. She laid her head against his chest. It seemed to take forever, but incrementally, he felt her muscles relax until she was again a limp and pliant in his arms.
He’d thought she’d fallen asleep until he heard her whisper, “This is nice.” Her quiet sigh of contentment puffed against his skin, and he tightened his hold on her. Her breathing eventually deepened and evened out. She went lax against him as sleep claimed her.
Her earlier expression of bewilderment niggled at him. Why was she surprised he’d want to hold her? It wasn’t as if she was inexperienced. Far from it. Had none of her other lovers wanted to embrace her afterward?
Jealousy gnawed at him as images of her with faceless men assaulted his mind. He should be grateful for her expertise. He’d benefited from it. Instead, envy sank its barbed claws into his flesh.
A stupid and proprietary urge to keep her to himself swelled within him. Away from any other man. He wasn’t her first, but the thought that he wanted to be her last speared through his consciousness.
* * * *
In the long hours before dawn, Zander watched Tessa sleep. He couldn’t remember bothering to watch a woman after sex. It seemed a waste of perfectly good rest time. He could count on one hand all the times he’d spent the whole night with a lover.
She’d nestled into his body as if seeking shelter. Though she’d sought his nearness, her arms wrapped protectively around herself. Her slumber didn’t seem the typical post-sex variety. It was as if a faint tension quivered through her, despite her weariness.
He knew she had to be tired. He was exhausted. They’d reached for each other several times, unable to get enough of one another. He’d never come across a woman who had such extensive skill and knowledge of a man’s body. How many former lovers did she have lurking in the closets of her past? Jealousy fisted around his throat.
Sensual and generous, she’d satisfied his every carnal desire as if she were the personification of male gratification. The trouble was he wasn’t satisfied. Not completely. He wanted to make her lose control as she’d caused him to do all night.
Tessa whimpered in her sleep. In an effort to comfort her, he tightened his embrace. She thrashed, and the whimper escalated to a scream.
“Tessa! Wake up, angel.”
She pushed against him, still firmly in the grip of her nightmare. His name was torn from her throat on a sob, and his chest ached at the pain in her voice.
“So…much…blood,” she rasped.
Sitting up against the headboard and pulling her against him, he shook her gently. “Tess.” He smoothed the tawny snarl of hair off her face. “You’re having a bad dream.”
Hot tears spilled onto his skin. She gasped as she opened her eyes, her breath a harsh inhalation. Quaking shudders racked her body and vibrated through him. He tightened his embrace and rocked her back and forth.
“It’s okay. I’ve got you,” he soothed. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
“You can’t stop him,” she murmured in a groggy, shell-shocked voice.
“Who?” Fear sliced through him. Blood slowed in his veins, and time ground to a near-halt. Images of Julia’s mangled corpse hammered his mind. It was impossible not to picture Tessa in her place. He couldn’t let anything happen to her. He wouldn’t.
“Who, Tessa? Who can’t I stop?”
She blinked at him as if he were just coming into focus. The dazed clouds faded from her eyes, and she looked away.
“No one,” she murmured. “It was a nightmare.” She shrugged, the mask back in place. “I have bad dreams sometimes. I’m sorry I woke you.”
He didn’t release her. “Do you want to tell me about it?”
She shook her head. “I can’t really remember. It’s kind of a blur.”
She was lying. As much as he hated to admit it, she still didn’t trust him. Her tremors diminished, and her breathing grew deeper. Every so often, it hitched. He tensed at each sharp gasp. By slow increments, the rigidity drained from her muscles and she relaxed. Her breath escaped in moist puffs against his bare skin. Keeping her securely in his grasp, he eased to the mattress. Her fingers twitched and clutched at his chest. He stroked her arm in an attempt to soothe her.
Something was going on with her. Something she refused to share. That something niggled at him now, keeping him awake. She snuggled into his side, and he gazed at the woman in his arms. Moonlight glistened on the tear tracks drying on her face. The glow from the window fell on her hair and transformed the pale, shimmering mass into a nimbus of gold.
She shifted and adjusted her head on his shoulder. Remnants of exotic spices and elusive flowers still clung to her skin. He kissed her cheek, tasting the tang of salt. The need to comfort and protect swirled uneasily in his gut, and he thought again of Julia.
Had Niko lain with her in his arms, watching her sleep? Watching her face relax as slumber claimed her? Watching the fragile rise and fall of her chest, never suspecting that it could be crushed so easily? Never imaging he’d someday wake up to an empty bed and reach for the woman he loved, only to remember that she didn’t sleep there anymore? That she didn’t sleep at all?
Zander placed his hand over Tessa’s steadily beating heart, over the angel wing pendant that lay over her breastbone. The clammy heat of her skin warmed him. She sighed and smiled slightly in her sleep.
Confusion swamped him. Maybe, he imagined that Tessa hid deep, dark secrets. Was it simply the memory of his family’s tragedy that kept him on edge? Tessa wasn’t Julia, and he wasn’t Niko. So why the fear that if he didn’t watch over Tessa, something bad would happen? Why now? Why with Tessa? Was it that he knew she didn’t entirely trust him? Or was this something else?
He stared at her ceiling, at the molded, plaster cherubs in the corners. They seemed more malevolent than beatific in the shadows that shrouded the room. The engine of a poorly tuned motorcycle roare
d through the night. Its headlight careened off the faces of the seraphs to bounce off the mirror. The harsh beam highlighted Tessa’s face, making her appear ghostly.
He pulled her closer and remembered his ex-girlfriend Lisa. He’d never once stayed awake to watch her sleep. He’d never felt the need to comfort or protect her. She’d never needed him, either. Of course, neither did Tessa. She refused to let him farther inside than necessary. Perhaps, she simply didn’t want to become more involved than they already were. After all, this wasn’t real.
He sighed, inhaling her lingering perfume. For the rest of his life, he’d associate regret with Tessa’s unique scent. Regret would always smell like flowers and spice. So would love. Panic flared but vanished just as quickly. He’d fought the idea of love for so long, discomfort had become an automatic response.
He didn’t want to end up like Niko. Devastated and so empty that nothing but a bottle filled him anymore. Zander knew if he walked away from Tessa without exploring the possibilities of what could be, he’d end up just as bitter as his brother.
Merciless questions beat at him, keeping him awake. Long before he could sort out his feelings, dawn brightened the sky, and Tessa’s alarm sounded. She stretched and opened her eyes. Covering herself, she started to scoot away.
“Tess?” he asked, concerned.
She blinked warily as if she couldn’t quite remember why she was there. Bit by bit, awareness filtered across her face, and she relaxed.
This morning, her lack of trust was more evident than ever.
She hit the alarm, rolled onto her stomach and groaned.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Mm-humph,” she muttered into the pillow. “Just tired.” She turned her head and grinned. “But I could be persuaded to wake up.”
Unable to keep from touching her, he trailed his hand over every inch of exposed skin, shoulders, spine and the small of her back. She squirmed, and the sheet inched lower, revealing a small tattoo. If someone asked him five minutes ago if she had a body modification he would have bet his salary against it. How many other surprises did she have in store for him?
The tattoo looked like the one the model had in the photographs at the gallery. He peered closer. It wasn’t just like it. It was the same one.
He’d missed the design in the dark. An intricate, Celtic knotwork design in shades of purple and indigo adorned the base of her backbone. He traced the endless, repeating pattern with his fingertip.
She froze under his touch. Evidently, she realized he’d discovered her secret.
“How come you didn’t tell me?” He regretted the words before he’d finished speaking.
“Tell you what?” Her voice had taken on a hard edge. “About the tattoo?” She paused. “About the pictures?”
He had no answer for her.
“Because it isn’t any of your business, that’s why.”
Lowering his mouth, Zander kissed the inked area. He brushed his lips up her spine, the lightest of caresses. Her body melted then stiffened under his touch.
“Why don’t you trust me?” he asked, unsure what possessed him to further agitate the emotional waters.
Tessa flipped onto her back and drew the sheet up as she turned. “If I didn’t trust you, you wouldn’t be in my bed.”
He pushed up on his elbow and splayed his hand over her belly. “You might trust me enough to sleep with me but not enough to let yourself go.”
Her breath hitched under his palm. The blue of her eyes brightened with irritation. “What do you call last night?”
“I call last night phenomenal.”
“Then what’s your problem?” she demanded.
“My problem is,” he inched the sheet down, exposing the swell of her breasts, “your control issues.” He tugged the fabric, but she held it to her chest.
“I don’t have issues.”
He raised his eyebrows, glancing between her hand and her eyes.
“So what?” she shrugged, but her cheeks flushed, and she looked away. “I like to be on top. Big deal.”
He dropped a kiss in the valley between her breasts. “I think it’s more than that. I think you’re afraid.”
“Just because you’re a criminal psychologist, it doesn’t make you an interpersonal relationship specialist.”
He went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “I think you’re afraid to allow yourself be vulnerable. You can’t give yourself permission to lose control.” Skimming his hand over her bare arm, he smoothed the goose bumps that rushed over her skin.
Turning her face away, she pressed her lips together.
He traced her cheekbone with his thumb. “Who hurt you?”
Her eyes widened, and she met his gaze. “No one.”
An obvious lie but he didn’t ask again. Was it the ex-lover she’d thought she’d seen while at the street fair?
Unable to refrain, he lowered his mouth and took hers in a lazy, lingering kiss. “Let me love you, Tess.”
Chapter Eleven
Let me love you. Zander’s smoky plea surged through Tessa’s nerves. Her body overrode her brain, and she tangled her fingers in his hair and drew him closer. He created a devastating ache that surpassed any desire she’d ever known.
His lips moved from hers and lapped a fiery path to her ear. He nuzzled the sensitive skin along her neck.
“Will you let me show you?” Barely restrained hunger shadowed his gentle words.
“Show me what?” she breathed.
He pulled back and held her with his gaze. “Trust doesn’t have to mean being dominated.”
He’d hit too close to her hidden fears.
“Why would you think….” Tessa couldn’t finish the rest of her thought. She tried to keep her expression neutral, but something must have shown.
Zander’s gaze softened with concern. “I won’t hurt you.” He didn’t look away but watched as if he had forever to wait.
Forever. The word knifed through her. That was one thing they didn’t have. This was a temporary relationship built on lies. It would be stupid to pretend it was anything more than a short-term fling.
“Why is it so important to you?”
“You’re important to me.” His eyes shone with fierce intensity.
Tessa framed his face with her hands, touched by his wish to help her. “Kiss me.”
All coherent thought dissolved in an ocean of sensation. His whispered words heightened her sense of need, but the vulnerability still lingered. She wanted to release her fear, to let it go, to be rid of it forever. She wanted it more than anything. She wanted it with Zander. But it wasn’t going to happen. Not now. Maybe not ever.
They lay naked, not even separated by the sheet. But there were so many layers of lies and half-truths between them. So much isolation and fear she wasn’t sure her arms were long enough to reach him.
He pressed her against the mattress. She lay still for a moment, but old panic pushed forward, suffocating her. She shoved at his shoulders, desperate for space.
Zander rolled to his side. Uncertainty shadowed his eyes and slowed his movement. His hand hovered near her face then dropped to the bed between them.
Able to breathe normally again, she pushed herself up on her elbow and ducked her head. Tears of shame and disappointment pricked her eyelids. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” He ran his fingers over her hair. His eyes, full of something that looked suspiciously like sympathy, sought hers. The last thing she wanted from him was pity.
She focused instead on the warm, muscled expanse of his chest and dragged her fingertips through the bronze-colored curls. His nipples puckered at her touch.
Tessa had seen plenty of nude men over the years, but none of them had ever looked like Zander. Long, delineated muscles and the sculptured curve of his hipbone beckoned her in the low light. Beyond the ability to curb impulse, she scored the inside of his thigh with her short nails and sifted through the light dusting of hair. His cock jutted forward as if seekin
g her warmth.
Desire replaced every other emotion. She inched closer, unsure of her reception. Would he still want her after she’d pushed him away? Maybe, he thought she was too crazy to bother with. Maybe he regretted sleeping with her in the first place. She swallowed her anxiety and met his gaze.
Zander glanced at the hand resting on his thigh then at her face. A flutter tingled through Tessa’s belly as hunger darkened his eyes. Emboldened, she trailed her fingers through the swirls of hair covering his stomach. His breath released in a shiver that shuddered through her. He didn’t touch her, but his expression sent lust burning through her blood.
Her hand glanced over the tip of his rigid arousal. It twitched under her fingers, pre-cum coating her skin. Air hissed through his gritted teeth, but he seemed reluctant to make the first move. She leaned into him and brushed her lips across his. He held himself motionless as if wary of startling the innocent virgin. If he only knew. Her innocence had been shattered the morning after she’d given him her virginity.
She kissed Zander again. This time he responded. His mouth moved over hers with a voraciousness that surprised her but he otherwise stayed still. Well, nearly still. His tongue thrust rhythmically into her mouth, reminiscent of his hips pounding upward. Her inner muscles clenched at the memory of Zander embedded inside her.
She’d wanted it to be different. She wanted him to be the one who erased the memories she couldn’t forget. But hadn’t she just proved that would never happen? She kissed him harder, willing away the feelings of inadequacy and loneliness.
For a moment, she pulled back and looked at him. His chestnut hair was a mess, and his body was taut with desire. He’d gripped her sheets in an effort to keep from touching her, she guessed.
She could have cried. He was protecting her. He held back, keeping his emotions and body in check, while she wanted nothing more than to dive headlong into mindless gratification. If she did, she’d be using Zander as surely as she’d used every guy following the assault.
Vengeful Shadows Page 14
