Treasure Me

by Olivia Cunning

  “Okay, but that’s not my request.”

  She was so wonderful to him, so caring and understanding and patient—how could he refuse her anything?

  “Kiss me right here. In Sara’s living room.”

  He could refuse her after all. “No.”

  She tugged her hand free of his and turned back to the room. He’d almost had her to the door. Almost.

  “Then tell me more about her,” she said. “Is this her furniture? I wouldn’t think it was your taste, but maybe I’m wrong.”

  “It’s hers,” he said.

  “Did you get rid of anything that belonged to her? If I go upstairs will her clothes be in the closet? Her slippers by the bed? Her toothbrush near the sink?”

  How could Dawn know that? Did she know he still had a coffee cup—Sara’s lipstick on the edge—that he refused to wash?

  He rested his hands on his hips and stared her down. “What’s your point?”

  “You aren’t ever going to move on at this rate,” she said. “Let’s go get some boxes, clear out all her stuff, and donate it to a charity. I think she’d like that idea.”

  “You don’t know her.” Kellen crossed his arms over his chest and set his jaw in a harsh line. “I’m not getting rid of her belongings. They’re all I have left of her.”

  “You’re wrong. You have memories of her. Lots of good memories. You just shared many of them with me.”

  “They’re fading already,” he said. “Seeing her things reminds me of them.”

  Dawn lifted a hand to touch him, but he stepped back. She closed her hand into a fist and pressed it over her heart.

  “She wouldn’t want this for you, Kelly. Not if she truly loved you. She would want you to be happy. She would want you to kiss a sexy redhead when she asks you to.”

  Dawn struck what he assumed she thought was a sexy pose and gave him a heated look. He snorted on a laugh.

  “Sara was the most jealous woman I’ve ever met. The truth is, I never found it difficult to maintain friendships while dating women before her, but she insisted I spend all my free time with her and if I didn’t, she’d call to check up on me. She was convinced that I’d find someone new.”

  “So not all of your memories with Sara are happy,” Dawn said.

  “Of course not, but the happy ones are the only ones I want to remember.”

  Dawn shook her head. “There is no way I can ever measure up to her, to all happiness all the time. Don’t you get that?”

  “This isn’t about you.”

  “It is about me. Not all of it, clearly, but part of it is about me. I really want to be with you, Kelly, but damned if you aren’t making it impossible for me.”

  “Then maybe this isn’t going to work out.”

  “Do you even want it to work out?”

  “I do, Dawn. More than anything.”

  “Prove it.”

  “How the hell am I supposed to do that?”

  “Kiss me.”

  It was a simple request, really, though it felt like a monumental task. But maybe, just maybe . . .

  He crushed her against him, a hand fisting in her hair—for what, to punish her for pushing him where he knew he needed to go?—and ground his mouth against hers. The lust that slammed into his groin and heated his blood was no surprise, but the emotion that clogged his throat and tried to choke him caught him off guard. Pressure built behind his eyes, forcing up tears so rapidly that they fell before he could shove them back behind the wall he’d built as their dam long ago.

  A sob ripped from him, breaking against Dawn’s soft lips, pulling her under with him as her tears mingled with his.

  “It’s okay,” she whispered between tender kisses. “It’s okay, Kelly.”

  It didn’t feel okay; for chrissakes, he was shaking all over and showing his weakness to the one person he wanted to see him as strong. Dawn had broken him. Was she happy now? He’d been holding it together for so long—so long—and with one stupid kiss, she’d completely shattered him. But she felt so good—so good—in his arms, her softness against his chest, her encouraging whispers in his ear, her sweet scent surrounding him. She was his strength, his salvation. And he feared he was still in love with another woman when the one he wanted to love, the one he needed to love, was right there in his arms.

  Chapter Six

  Dawn hated that Kelly looked so embarrassed as he pulled away and wiped away his tears with both hands. He couldn’t even bring himself to look at her as he pulled in a deep breath and then tore open the front door and rushed out to stand on the deck. Eyes closed, he tilted his face toward the sun and basked in its warm, golden rays.

  She wondered if they could recover from this—this line they’d crossed. That she’d crossed. She hadn’t expected him to actually break down, but was glad he had. Not because she enjoyed watching him suffer, but because he needed to fall apart—really fall apart—before he could start to put himself back together. And if her persistence to push him forward ultimately tore them apart, she knew she’d mourn what could have been, but maybe he’d finally be able to move on with some other lucky woman. Not that she was giving up on him. She’d never met a man who could love as deeply as this man loved, be as committed as this man committed himself, and she’d be a fool to let him get away. She just hoped that he could love her and be as committed to her as he had been—still was—to Sara.

  Dawn followed him outside. The wind caught the door and its slam made his body stiffen, but he turned. Maybe to see if she was still there. She was and always would be, if he’d let her.

  “Sorry about that,” he said, the breathless hitch in his voice twisting the ache in her chest. “I usually suffer my emotional breakdowns in private.”

  “You’ve cried over losing her before, haven’t you?” If he’d kept that all bottled up inside him for five years, it was a wonder he was still standing.

  His nod was barely perceptible. “Not while anyone was watching.”

  She grinned crookedly, hoping to loosen the tension between them, because it was unbearable after the fun, carefree day they’d spent together in the car. “I felt it more than watched it.”

  “Oh.” He raked a hand through his long hair, the shiny ebony strands catching the sunshine. “I didn’t squeeze you too tight, did I?”

  She shook her head. “You could never squeeze me too tight.”

  “Can we go?” He nodded toward the beach. “I could really use that walk.”

  “You want me to come with you?” Maybe that shouldn’t surprise her, but after witnessing his reaction to her pushing, she’d been certain he’d be shoving her away.

  “Only if you’ll hold my hand.”

  She bit her lip at the sudden rush of emotion that caught her off guard and left her breathless. “I’ll hold on tight,” she promised.

  His smile suggested he understood the subtext behind her promise. And again he didn’t shove her away. In fact, when he reached for her hand and took it in his, he tugged her to stand so close beside him that her bare arm touched his and that now familiar flutter of excitement set her trembling.

  “Thanks for being a pain in my ass,” he said.

  Her mouth dropped open in surprise, and then she laughed. “Any time.”

  The wooden steps from the deck to the ground were wide enough for two, but they had to separate as they scrambled over a weedy sand dune to get to the beach on the other side. A balmy breeze tossed her hair into a tangled mass and coated her bare skin with a light mist of briny water. The beach was mostly empty along this particular stretch of high-end homes, but in the distance people were flying colorful kites and relaxing in the sand. Kellen lifted Dawn over the icky row of black seaweed on the edge of the surf and set her down in ankle-deep waves. She found the action incredibly gallant.

  When she smiled up at him, he said, “I guess I should have asked if you like to walk the beach with the waves washing over your feet or—”

  She touched his lips with her fingertips to cu
t him off. “I like to walk the beach with you.”

  The where, the when, even the why didn’t matter. Just the who.

  This time when his mouth claimed hers, there was no turmoil behind the brush of his lips, only passion. He drew away much too quickly, took her hand, and started up the beach, the bath-warm waves lapping against their ankles and calves.

  They’d gone all of five steps when he turned to her, cupped her face in both hands, and kissed her. Her eyes drifted shut as his lips lingered, and then he drew away, tugging her into motion again. She’d scarcely gotten her legs to move properly when he stopped once more and kissed her again. Thinking this was the best beach walk she’d ever been on, she allowed her hands to drift to his bare back, curling into the hard muscle she found there to draw him closer. Before she’d had her fill, he drew away and resumed strolling. She opened her mouth to question what he was doing, but he kissed her again, and she decided they weren’t going to get much talking done on their walk and that was fine by her.

  “Every five steps,” he whispered against her lips before starting up the beach again. True to his word, after five steps she was in his arms again, being kissed into a mindless oblivion of sensation and connection.

  “At this rate, this is going to be a very long walk,” she said when he tugged her forward another five paces and kissed her again.

  She deepened this kiss, her tongue caressing his lip, and he groaned. His hand slid down to cup her ass and drew her against him. The unmistakable hard ridge in his shorts sent curls of desire twisting inside her.

  “Or a very short one,” he said, nipping her lip, her jaw, the tender spot beneath her ear.

  He squeezed her ass, and she whimpered, so glad that he’d slipped out of his earlier funk over Sara. She wasn’t going to ask what had changed. She sure as hell didn’t want to bring up the subject again and ruin their enchanting moments in the surf.

  “Let’s go back to your place,” he said, “before we scandalize that group of elderly ladies.”

  Dawn shifted her gaze to the beach walkers passing them as they followed the curving ridge of collected seaweed. The women didn’t look scandalized at all. Every one shared a knowing smile with her when their eyes briefly met. Dawn was more concerned about their influence on the preteen boys gawking at them from beneath a shady fabric gazebo near the dunes. Had it been a weekday, they’d have likely had the beach all to themselves and been able to make out without an audience. Perhaps tonight, after the sun set, they would do just that.

  “Let’s walk a bit farther,” she said. “It’s such a nice day.” And she was enjoying the foreplay.

  “If we continue, I’m not sure I’ll make it back.”

  He shifted his hips slightly, rubbing his arousal against her. She was equally aroused, but she had the advantage of being able to hide that fact.

  “You don’t have to kiss me every five steps,” she said, doubling down on this little stop by stealing another kiss from his gorgeous lips. When she drew away, she opened her eyes and met his stare.

  Those dark eyes of his made her heart thud with excitement. He was looking at her now the way he looked at her when she was naked and bound and begging him to take her.

  “Yes, I do,” he said, his voice low and husky. It caressed her deep inside where she ached for his hardness.

  “I know you have an issue with breaking promises—”

  “That’s not why I have to kiss you,” he interrupted. “I thought you couldn’t be any more gorgeous than you are by candlelight, but the sunshine makes your hair glow like fire, the green in your eyes brighten, and those sexy as fuck freckles of yours pepper your skin.”

  Damn, she hated her freckles, but she liked that he referred to them as sexy as fuck.

  He leaned close to her ear and whispered, “I can’t wait to get you naked, to rediscover every freckle on your body.”

  Yes, please. She’d like some of that.

  “Every wave that washes over my feet reminds me of the slow, sensual rhythm that drives us both and demands I take you to its steady cadence.”

  And she’d really like some of that.

  “Oh wow.” She blew out a weary sigh and reached her arms high over her head in an exaggerated stretch. “I’m beat from all this walking. I should probably head home for an afternoon nap.”

  He chuckled. “You read my mind.”

  “Darn.” She pouted at him. “I hoped you had something a bit more invigorating on your mind than a nap.”

  He laughed again. “You have no idea how invigorating my naptime can be.”

  “Please tell me I’m about to find out.”

  She squealed in surprise when he scooped her up into his arms and headed back the short distance to the beach house. As promised, he paused every three steps on the return trip to kiss her, but these weren’t the toe-curling, leisurely smooches of before. These were hurried pecks so that his kisses wouldn’t hinder their progress.

  She couldn’t wait to be alone, without beach-goers or even the ghost of Sara between them.

  He didn’t glance at Sara’s house as they passed the large, sunny yellow structure. His attention was on Dawn and getting to the blue rental next door as quickly as he could traverse the powdery sand of the dune. It tugged mercilessly at his bare feet, slowing him down.

  “Damned sand.”

  “I can walk,” she said, drawing her fingers through the long silky strands of his hair, though she rather enjoyed how feminine he made her feel. She was tall for a woman and had never been as light as air. Not many men could lift her, much less carry her.

  He didn’t set her down until he reached the steps, and when her feet touched the ground, she turned and bolted up the stairs as fast as she could move. She wouldn’t be stopping every three steps for a little kiss; she wanted so much more of him than that. He was laughing as he chased her. The rich happy sound spread through her, reminding her how joyful he could be when his mind was free of troubles. The man was an expert at compartmentalizing.

  Glad she hadn’t bothered to lock the door when she’d gone next door earlier, she bolted inside the house and was surprised to find herself caught in Kellen’s arms as he bumped into her from behind. He was faster than she’d estimated. She hadn’t even had time to shed her clothes in the hopes of tempting him to get right down to business.

  He seemed to be of the same mind as he kicked the door shut. His mouth was on her neck, one hand on her breast, the other hiking up her skirt until he found . . . yes.

  “I want you,” he said near her ear. “I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help myself.”

  She stifled her words, knowing that if she said what was on her mind—why shouldn’t you want me?—that they’d end up talking, most likely about Sara, and she did not want to squelch the passion that burned so brightly between them when they allowed it.

  “Then take me.” She reached behind her, her hand easily finding his hard length. He gasped, and when she wasted no time freeing him from his shorts, her name shuddered out from between his lips. “Take me right here.”

  His groan of torment made her core pulse with need, and yet as turned on as she was, she was after something much deeper than his cock inside her. She stifled a moan of disappointment when he didn’t yank her panties off and bury himself deep. Control. The man had way too much control. He walked farther into the house, his arms tight around her, carrying most of her weight since her feet were barely on the floor. He headed for her piano. God, she hoped he didn’t request that she play right now. Was it too damned much to ask that he give up a shred of that control and fuck her when she needed to be fucked?

  He flattened her palms on the closed lid of the piano and leaned over her, his weight bending her over the smooth surface. “Don’t move,” he said, his voice a low, tortured growl rising from deep in his chest.

  Her breath caught when his hands moved under her skirt and tugged her panties down her thighs. His fingers brushed the wetness between her swollen lips. She lifted
a hand from the piano to reach behind her—wanting to touch him as much as she wanted him to continue touching her.

  “You can’t move, Dawn, or I’ll need to tie you.”

  She returned her palm to the lid of the piano, and before she could ponder the meaning behind his words, he was inside her. His deep thrusts were oh so slow. Oh so exquisite. Perfectly in sync with the lapping waves outside. His hands moved from her hips to rest on the piano on either side of her. Their only connections were where their bodies were joined and in the sensual rhythm that drove them both.

  “Why do you torment me?” His breath ticked the back of her shoulder, and she wasn’t sure if he was referring to her or to Sara. “Why does everything you do turn me on? Why do I resent my feelings for her so much when I’m with you?”

  She didn’t dare answer his questions. He was lost in her and in himself. And was finally, finally, making love to her without