by Susan Ward
My cheeks burned. “Damon, what’s gotten into you?”
It was almost as if he couldn’t hear me. He yanked my gray wool cap off our Brody creation, the forceful move of his arm crashing into its face and toppling its head. Then he tossed my hat on the ground next to me.
“It’s freezing, Khloe. Why aren’t you in the house or at least bundled up to keep warm?”
I gasped. “You can’t seriously want to fire Cody over that. Over my putting my hat on a snowman?”
“I’m very serious, Khloe. And Cody’s gone, out of here today,” he announced intractably. “This discussion is over.”
I glared at him. “No, it’s not. You can’t dictate to me or Cody. Especially when you’re behaving irrationally.”
“There’s nothing irrational about an expectation that both of you will always put your health first. Obviously, Cody is not up to the job of making sure you take care of yourself. Every time you’re off on your own, you abandon every caution, every ounce of good sense.”
“Good sense? I built a snowman. It’s called having fun, Damon. That’s all I did. And I was having a good time until you ruined it with your blast of excessive worry over me. I’ve asked you stop worrying so much about me, but there you are, helicoptering and overreacting to everything. I had enough of that in Pacific Palisades from my mother. I won’t have it here. I’m a grown woman, and I’m going to live my life however I want to. Which, I should point out, is the very reason I’m here in Wyoming with you instead of in California as my family wanted. I’m tired of being smothered by concern. Tired of waiting to live. I can’t stop what I do from worrying you, but you can’t stop me from enjoying what things I can or talk to my friends that way.” My voice rose with indignation, and my own anger joined to prickle across my body as Damon’s had. I’d lived in bubble for too long; I couldn’t go back into it, not even for Damon, if that’s what this uncharacteristic outburst foreshadowed.
He regarded me, his expression unreadable, and after a moment his face softened, maybe a fraction, and he looked unsettled and confused about how to deal with the firestorm he’d created.
“I’m going to leave you two to work it out,” Cody murmured quietly, shifting his gaze to Damon then back to me. “Someone text me later whether I’m packing tonight or not.”
“You’re not packing,” I announced, obstinate. “Is he, Damon?”
The stiff line of Damon’s mouth hardened, and all the air left my lungs. I was glad I was still seated in the snow, sure my legs couldn’t have held me. I couldn’t breathe as my question hung in awkward silence.
“Damon, apologize to Cody. He’s not leaving.”
Damon stared back at me, unbending. Was he not going to back down? I’d never seen him like this before. I could feel how riled up he was inside and had a vague awareness something more than I suspected was going on with him. He didn’t have outbursts, he was never irrational, and I didn’t know what to prepare myself for or why he was being this way.
He raked a hand through his hair, shook his head, and closed his eyes. He struggled to contain whatever was rioting through his veins, and while I couldn’t see his muscles contracting, I got a sense they were.
Damon’s mouth twisted, forlorn. “I may have acted rashly, Cody.”
“May have?” I countered heatedly.
His tiger eyes shot to my face. “I was rash. I apologize to both of you for my conduct.”
“Thank you,” I gushed, relieved that this was over and that Damon seemed to be pulling out of whatever dark cloud he’d brought with him from the house, enough that he looked a bit more like my Damon.
“I better get back to the security command room,” Cody stated politely and lumbered off.
We stared at each other while his footsteps echoed then faded. Once we were alone, I didn’t know what to say. He didn’t move, and I didn’t move. Crushing silence settled over us again.
“Talk to me, Damon. What was that about?”
He sighed and shifted, taking a single step toward me and crouching down until we were at eye level. “Do we have to discuss this now?”
“Yes. I think we do.”
“Can we go back into the house and discuss it there?”
“No. I’m not budging an inch until you explain what’s going on with you. I want to understand what could make you turn on a dime and cause an awful scene.”
My words caused him to flinch. “It wasn’t that awful.”
“Oh, yes it was. Talk to me, Damon. Stop stalling.”
His eyes grew wider. “I’ve apologized. I admitted I was wrong. I don’t have anything else to say.”
My stomach twisted, and bile rose in my throat. He was hiding something from me. I could feel it. Was it his family? Him? Or us?
Suddenly, it was my greatest ambition to find out what bothered him. It was obvious that something very troubling weighed on him. Whatever it was, I sensed the effort it took to withhold it from me was devouring him. Why was he denying it?
“Damon.” My voice was weary. “I’m tired of you doing this. Can’t you see how unfair it is to the both of us?”
He frowned as if he didn’t understand. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not doing anything.”
“You’ve got to stop trying to protect me from everything. You can’t, and all it does is put a wall between us that I can’t bear. When you do it, I know it, and it hurts me. It makes me feel incapable of being everything I want to be to you. Please, if you love me, stop doing it.”
We gazed at each other, searching blue into stricken amber, captives of our wills, captives of our love, separated by a wall between us which hadn’t existed before this afternoon. I searched his eyes, pleading, trying to fathom what had turned my tender and gentle lover into a frightened, irrational man who wouldn’t share his thoughts with me.
“I’m still learning how to love.” His voice was low and husky. “Don’t expect me to be perfect at it. I’m just trying to love you the best I can.”
The best I can. My heart sank.
“Is that it? It’s us? Have I become too much for you to emotionally handle? Are you unsure if you can be with me?”
His gaze flashed with shock and panic. “Never. No. No. How could you ask me that?” He scooped me up from the snow into his arms and held me fiercely against him. “You’re the center of my world. The center of me. My deplorable conduct with Cody has nothing to do with us, baby. I’m having a bad day. That’s all. Don’t let yourself think for a second you’re not everything to me.”
His emotions felt off to me, strange even. It was like they were strapped on a pitching pendulum beyond his control. I wasn’t sure what to make of that, but before I decided which direction to take us, his mouth came crashing down on mine. He flooded my senses with all he felt for me in an outpouring from him to me that scattered my musings and any thought except him.
“Oh, Damon, I love you so much it frightens me sometimes.” I grasped his head, lacing my fingers through his hair as I met the heated demand in his lips.
“Did it ever occur to you that it’s no different for me?” he asked, quickly going to his feet, holding me snug against his chest. “I love you so much. That’s why I do it badly sometimes. That’s why I overreacted with Cody. My loving you. I couldn’t survive if something happened to you.”
“I’m fine, Damon. I feel wonderful today. There was nothing to be angry or worried over with Cody. He would never be careless with me. He puts my well-being first. Always.”
His arms shuddered, and he caught a fast, ragged breath. “Let’s keep it that way, all right?”
“It’s already that way. Don’t ruin what we have over senseless worries. We’re together. We’re good. That’s all that matters, isn’t it?”
“We’re all that matters.” His lips curled in his heart-slaying smile, and my Damon was back. “And we’re better than good, Khloe. A superlative hasn’t been invented yet to describe how w
e love.”
“Then take me to our bedroom,” I pleaded. “And put everything you have into loving me.”
DAMON KISSED MY SHOULDER then brushed my flushed cheek with his palm. “Don’t move, KK,” he murmured thickly, sounding as if he were in agony instead of the bliss I could see on his face. I was straddling him, my palms flat on his chest, and his thick, pulsing erection filled me. “I was awful today. Use all your control to torture me more. Don’t come. Don’t let me come. I will feel awful if you let me come.”
I moaned, my neck swaying in one direction and then the other. He knew exactly what he was doing to me: topping from the bottom—again—with only his words instead of his body.
I did a delicious slow roll of my hips, then I stopped with only the tip of him in me. I was helpless in my desire for him, even if he pretended slavish obedience to my taking the lead and trying to maintain tight rein over our sublime, erotically slow lovemaking.
God, I love apology sex. My fingers tightened around his shoulders as he eased upward, his soft breath on my warm, wet breasts. He blew gently on my hardened nipples, and I shivered.
“Oh, please,” I begged. “You’re not being fair. You want me to torture you, and then you do that. How do you make my whole body contract with nothing but air from your lips?”
I opened my eyes, and he grinned before lightly sending another breath across my nipple. My sex tightened around him as his mouth parted, and I felt all of me go taut as his tongue moved round and round one pink tip then the other.
“Self-discipline,” he murmured before his tongue renewed its erotic assault. “It’s about harnessing all your power, holding it back to make it stronger.”
His mouth sucked my nipple in deep, and I sank down hard, filling me with him. I tried to hold my body still—I really did—but while he made greedy work of devouring my breasts, I rode him wildly as my body detonated, his attack on my pleasure points unrelenting. I moved faster and faster, wringing every ounce of pleasure from having him exactly against my sweet spot, fueling my orgasm until it was debilitating.
“Oh, Khloe,” he scolded. “You weren’t supposed to come. Not yet. Such a greedy girl.”
He fell backward onto the bed, taking me down with him, his lips crashing into mine. I cried out again and again as he thrust himself hard into me. I reveled in the feeling of fullness and my complete loss of power to his passion. He was moving me as he wanted, filling me as he wanted, the quivering of my flesh from the aftershocks of my orgasm building.
“Move,” he ordered hoarsely, with a gentle slap on my hip. “Faster. As fast as you can.”
And I began to move, slamming down on him, quicker and quicker, my head tilted back as his hands moved to my waist to keep me steady. I whimpered when his fingers closed around my breasts, teasing me once more.
“Yes, Khloe,” he rasped. “Make yourself come again. You’re close, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I whispered. With my eyes tightly shut, all my senses focused on how Damon felt buried deep inside me. His hand moved to my neck and tilted my head, then he nibbled his way up the side to my earlobe. With his tongue, he lavished attention there, and my body followed only the direction he wanted to take me. He sat up, one arm encircling my waist and the other hand against the mattress to support us as he brought up his hips to meet my frantic moves.
Another climax ripped through me, rippling my body then tearing through his. “I love you,” he groaned as he bucked into me, propelled by the force of his own release.
I LAY ON MY BACK, unable to move, and stared up at the skylights high in the ceiling. “I love that the second floor doesn’t extend to our bedroom. If it did, we wouldn’t have the stars in the sky to sleep under every night.”
“There’d be stars in the room even without the skylights. I saw a few while we were making love, and it wasn’t even dark out yet,” Damon teased, propping up beside me on an elbow.
“Hmm. How come you’re allowed to make jokes during after-sex pillow talk?”
“Not a joke. I did see stars. In your eyes, in the room. They were everywhere, KK. Didn’t you see them?”
“Yep. I did.” I smiled.
He kissed me again, and I reluctantly turned onto my side so he could cuddle up against me. My body felt drained of energy, and I couldn’t fight back the sleep.
“Are you tired, love?” he asked, positioning himself close to me.
“Maybe a little. Not surprising. That was quite a workout.”
His arm tightened around me, and his chin came to rest on my shoulder. “Should I tell Mrs. Freeburg we’ll have dinner here?”
“That’s probably best.”
“Was it too much for you? The sex?” I sensed rather than saw his frown and its accompanying worry.
Tired, I struggled to laugh, wanting to make light of his overreacting to my being sex-drained. “Not too much. But exhausting. I did all the work.”
His body shook with humor against my back. “Yes, you did, naughty girl. Why do you always want to dominate me during apology sex? I’m the one who’s always apologizing. It’s not fair. When is it my turn to dominate you?”
“Tomorrow I’ll do something bad and let you dominate me. How’s that?”
He kissed my shoulder. “You already dominate me in every way.”
“Good.” I gently closed my lips on the little hairs on his arms and made small tugs. “About you always apologizing—I want you to tell me something, OK?”
“What?”
“You have to promise not to turn it into another argument. I really don’t have the energy to fight twice with you in one day.” I peeked over my shoulder at him. “You know, the making up and all.”
“I promise not to make another argument. In truth, I don’t have the energy either.”
“Good. I didn’t draw out our lovemaking as long as I could for nothing. It tends to make you more reasonable to deal with when I want to discuss things you find unpleasant.”
His eyes widened—he was exasperated with me—but behind the traces of good humor on his face I could tell he was dreading my question. “What is it, Khloe?”
“I want you to admit that something is wrong. I can feel it. First, outside with Cody, and even while we were making love. In how you touched me, how careful you were, even when you were ravishing me. It’s always a tell when you’re worried about something. You become excessively gentle even during our wild sexy times.”
He stilled, his eyes not leaving mine, and in his gaze I could see his internally contained struggle as if he was debating something in his head. His closed mouth tightened, the tic in his jaw twitched, and a fleeting emotion flashed on his face—fear, or maybe worry.
Aha. I could always tell when Damon was keeping something from me. Did that foolish man still believe he could hide any part of himself from me? After all we’d been through? All we’d shared? It wasn’t possible.
“Are you going to answer me, Damon?”
“Yes.” His voice was a faint whisper.
“Yes, you’re going to answer? Or yes, something is wrong?”
For a split second it looked like he was scrambling mentally, then he frowned. “Neither. It’s yes, I’ve been keeping something from you.”
“Thank you. It’s patronizing to pretend nothing is wrong when I can very much feel something is.”
“I’m sorry.” I could tell he meant that.
“Is it important?”
“Yes. Very.”
It was a relief to hear him admit it.
My brows hitched up. “Don’t you think it’s time you tell me, then?”
He sighed and nodded.
“Good.” I sat up and waited.
His gaze clouded over, troubled. “You know most of it already, Khloe.”
“Know most of what?”
Another moment of indecision, then: “The calls with my family. There’s a…a western European extremist group…”
; I witnessed another internal struggle.
“Whatever it is, Damon, just tell me.”
His expression changed—anxious, unsure, and something else I couldn’t identify. “They’re fomenting political unrest in the UK, which includes removing the monarchy by any means. British intelligence believes the threat is credible and legitimate. I do not believe the situation is as dire or serious. These fanatics are always breeding unrest and hatching wild plots against everything they disagree with. National sovereignty. Advancements in agriculture and industrial farming. Medical advancements. Borders. Free enterprise. Whatever they decide to be universally unfair and a threat to their cause of achieving one world government. It’s nothing to be concerned over, Khloe. It’s part of being a member of the royal family: taking every precaution to threats, whether real or hot air. I’ve ordered increased security here. You’re not in any danger, not in any way. I should have told you, but in my own defense, it isn’t unreasonable that I didn’t want to frighten you with all you have to manage. As I said earlier, I’m still learning how to love you—”
I covered his mouth with my fingers, and the air gushed out of his chest as he waited, dreading my reaction.
“You should have told me sooner, Damon. You would have saved us both a lot of worry.”
“I know. You’re right. But I wish we weren’t talking about this here in our bed right now. I want this to be only our place, Khloe, filled only with our feelings for each other.”
“So do I, Damon. And it is. Nothing will ever change that, not even sharing the unpleasant realities of our lives with each other. Haven’t we already proven that?”
His features melted into something enthralling and heart filling. “Yes, you’re quite right. When we’re together, I’m unaware of everything except you.”
“Me, too.” I kissed him on the cheek and scooted around, grabbed my cell from the nightstand, and rapidly clicked through to my email. I tapped on a folder and opened my last communication in it. “You’re not the only one who gets yucky, unpleasant information sent to them daily. I knew what was going on in the UK before you told me. I’ve known since the phone calls started.”
