Rescuing His Heart

by Melanie Shawn

  Finally, he tore himself away from her luscious breasts and moved his mouth farther down her body. He planted kisses down the sloping, taut expanse of her belly. Her muscles rolled underneath his lips like waves. His head spun like a top when he kissed her and touched her body. There was no sensation on the ground like flying, but it was undeniable that being naked with Genevieve came the closest. No contest.

  When he reached the moist, dripping vee between her legs, he pushed her knees far apart and lost himself in the sight of her spread open and glistening. She was a masterpiece, and the most amazing part of her was how she gave herself to him with no reservations or inhibitions.

  That a woman as spectacular as Gen wanted him as much as she did made him feel like he just might be worth something after all, whether he could go up in the air or not.

  He ran his tongue up and down her seam. Her juice was the sweetest nectar against his lips. He moaned in pleasure as the taste of her filled his mouth.

  “Fuck, you’re delicious. So sweet.” The words came out barely louder than a gruff whisper, but as soon as they escaped his throat she cried out and bucked her hips, pressing herself into his hot, demanding mouth. He worked her even more frantically, taking pleasure in every movement of her hips, every grip of her fingers in his hair, every ecstatic moan that his mouth drew from her.

  “Gavin, I want you inside me,” Gen whispered, and as soon as the rough and ragged sound of those words hit his ears he knew she was just as ready as he was. He tore his mouth from her pulsing heat and raised up over her.

  She ran her fingernails up and down his back as he positioned himself at her opening. He had to get the angle perfect. He wasn’t planning on slipping inside her gently; he was going to take her with a forceful thrust, and he didn’t want to hurt her.

  When he’d settled the tip of his dick in her opening, he pushed his pelvis forward in a swift, strong, almost violent movement. When he was buried in her entirely, he paused there for a moment. He wanted to enjoy the sensation of being inside her, totally enveloped in her intimate embrace.

  The stillness was almost eerie. Their hearts pounded, blood rushed in his ears, and their breath sawed in and out like sandpaper. There were no traffic noises, no dogs barking, no neighbors calling out in the street. It was like he and Genevieve were isolated in a little bubble made just for them, like no one else existed in the world except for them, there in her bedroom, wrapped up in each other.

  He pulled back and thrust into her again. Then again. And then again, and again, and again until he pounded into her with a primal rhythm that struck a chord deep inside him.

  Her hips rose to meet him, answering that same deep and rhythmic call, and before long he knew he was about to explode. All he had to do was hold out and wait for her to be ready. But that wasn’t a problem. He knew how to work her body. He knew all of her secret buttons.

  Without breaking his rhythm, he leaned forward and nuzzled her neck, sucking gently on her earlobes and flicking them with his tongue. This drew a particular kind of moan from her, the one he knew meant she was about to go over the edge. He redoubled his efforts, from both above and below.

  “Yes. Oh, Gavin. Yes!” Her inner walls squeezed around him, spasming in pleasure, and he let himself go. His load shot out of him, filling the condom. It wasn’t too much of a stretch to imagine that he was filling her instead, though. For some reason that idea held an appeal that it never had before.

  He decided not to analyze it. It felt good to think about. He’d leave it at that.

  As their orgasms wound down, Gavin collapsed on the bed next to Gen, letting his breathing slow down as he pulled her against him.

  The energy between them was different somehow. It felt more relaxed, more comfortable, but, in a weird way, also more heightened and electric.

  The way they acted was different, too. They were not post-bang snugglers. In fact, he searched his memory for a single time that they’d just laid in bed together when the orgasms were done. Despite that, it felt natural to do it now.

  He didn’t want to ruin it by thinking about it. He’d spent a lot of time lately up in his head. Probably too much. This was something to enjoy. A gift, not a gift horse. He was just going to accept that there was something starting between him and Gen, something that maybe neither of them understood, and enjoy the fuck out of it.

  Still, he couldn’t stop a little voice in the back of his head from adding, while it lasts, anyway.

  Chapter 8

  Gen snatched the phone receiver out of its cradle and hit the speed dial number she’d programmed into her phone for Abby Baxter. Her knee bounced with impatient energy, causing her heel to tap the ground as she listened to the rings sound in the earpiece.

  “Come on, girl. Pick up, pick up, pick up,” she muttered under her breath.

  Not only was Abby a friend from high school, but she’d recently bought the local liquor store and was in the process of turning it into an expertly-curated wine shop. Gen had brought her on as the supplier for Hearts Afire special events, and her clients had given rave reviews to Abby’s selections. Gen had a meeting set with her that was supposed to start in just twenty minutes time, and she hoped she could wrangle a last-minute change of venue.

  “Valentine Bay Spirits and Wine.” The voice that rang clear in Gen’s ear was mellow, and pleasant, and unmistakably Abby’s.

  “Oh, good, I’m glad I caught you.”

  “Oh, hey, Gen. I was just about to leave, actually. What’s up?”

  “What’s up is that I’m starving to death. Can we do a lunch meeting? I’m legit wasting away here.”

  Abby laughed. Gen hadn’t been trying to be funny, but people usually took her dramatic pronouncements that way. She didn’t see them as hyperbole. She thought they were pretty damn accurate descriptions of how she actually felt. But she didn’t mind that people laughed, either. She liked making people happy, and if her style of expressing herself brought them joy, that was A-OK with her.

  “I could use some lunch, too, as a matter of fact. Main Street Eats?”

  “Oh, holy heck, yes. That sounds amazing. See you in ten, girl.”

  “See you then.”

  Gen almost didn’t hear her friend’s last reply over the grumbling of her stomach—not to mention the fact that the receiver was already halfway to the cradle by the time Abby spoke the words.

  When it came to her hunger—whether it be for food, sex, or anything else—she was serious about satisfying her needs. She made it a practice not to deny herself, if possible.

  Damn…that may not be working out so well. At least when it comes to the sex part. Things might be getting a little complicated.

  She resolved to put Gavin out of her mind. At least for the afternoon.

  Yeah, right. Good luck with that. Maybe just shoot for putting him out of your mind for the length of lunch and see where things go from there.

  She gritted her teeth as she drove through town on the way to Main Street Eats. She didn’t know why she kept trying to force herself to keep Gavin out of her thoughts. She couldn’t even manage to keep him out of her bed, let alone her head.

  She stepped through the door of Main Street Eats, a classic-looking diner with little woodsy touches that evoked the Oregon Coast location. She saw Abby right away and plopped herself down in the booth across from her.

  “God, I’m starving!” she said before Abby had even had a chance to greet her.

  Abby returned that remark with a wicked grin. “Maybe because you’ve been doing the dirty with Gavin Valentine all night, every night?”

  Genevieve froze. Everything in her was suspended. At a standstill. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t process thoughts. Her entire brain was taken over with one word, repeated again and again.

  How, how, how, how, HOW????

  Luckily, Abby put her out of her misery before she had to go any farther down the road of mentally forming that one recurring word into a functional sentence, and then spitting t
hat sentence out her pie hole.

  “Don’t worry, Gen. It’s not like everyone knows.”

  That snapped her back to the present, and her mind started working again. “God. How did you find out?”

  Abby reached across the table and patted her hand. “Jenna Dorian was at the Bar and Grill the other night and heard you and Ella talking. She didn’t hear much, but enough to put it together. Sorry. I didn’t realize it was some huge secret or I wouldn’t have teased you. You looked like you’d seen a ghost.”

  Gen dropped her forehead into her hands and groaned. “Damn. I knew we should’ve been more careful. Gone out to one of our cars, or at the very least lowered the freaking volume, but it’s just so dark and loud in there that it gives you a false sense of security.”

  Abby leaned forward conspiratorially. “Well?”

  Gen raised her head. “Well, what?”

  Abby spread her palms out in front of her. “Well, duh! Since I already know the basics, there’s no harm in giving me the details, right?”

  As she spoke, Grace Dobrevsi, one half of the married couple who owned Main Street Eats, approached the table with her order pad poised. Gen tried to shush Abby as subtly as she could.

  Grace and her husband Serge had been married since God was a boy. Most people in town considered them the ideal couple, the perfect example of #RelationshipGoals since way back when people were still referring to hashtags as number signs.

  Someone of Grace’s generation, not to mention one half of an iconic loving and committed couple, would never understand Genevieve and Gavin’s long-term hook-up arrangement. There was just no way.

  “What are you two girls talking about? Sounds juicy.”

  Abby looked to Gen to take the lead on that question, and Gen waved her hand as if it couldn’t matter less. “Oh, nothing. Just stupid gossip. So, what’s the special today?”

  But, unfortunately, Grace had little apparent interest in talking about the menu. “Oh, goodness, are you talking about Gavin Valentine? I heard that you two have been a closed-door item for a while now.”

  “Oh, come on.” Gen groaned in defeat, then turned to Abby. “I thought you said not everyone knew. That ‘not’ is kind of a key word in the sentence. Some would say the key word.”

  Abby laughed and put her hands up in protest. “I didn’t know, I swear!”

  Gen sighed, then asked Grace, her voice as defeated as she’d ever heard it, “How did you find out?”

  “Oh, hon, I didn’t know it was a secret. Not now, anyway. Serge told me about it.”

  Gen’s eyes flew wide. “Serge knows?”

  She didn’t know what was more shocking: the idea of the stoic man taking an interest in local gossip or the idea of him regaling his wife with the tale. Gen, in the entire two decades plus that she’d known the man, didn’t think she’d ever heard him speak more than two or three words at a time.

  Grace glanced back toward the kitchen where her husband was busy at the grill. “If you want to know how he heard, I can go ask him.”

  Gen put a hand on her arm, heading that idea off at the pass as fast as she could. The last thing she wanted was to spend one more minute discussing her sex life with the sweet old couple who owned the local diner. Who, incidentally, she’d known since she was born.

  “Oh, no, Grace. Please don’t worry about it. I’m fine.”

  Grace’s brows drew down, and she patted Gen’s shoulder. “If you’re sure, hon.”

  “Oh, I am. I definitely am.” There weren’t many things she was sure of lately, but that was definitely one of them.

  Her stomach growled, reminding her of the reason they were there. She and Abby placed their orders, and Gen noted that Abby’s eyes never lost that little gleam of amusement. She couldn’t blame her friend for finding the whole situation funny.

  Hell, if the tables were turned, she’d be doing a lot more than just sitting there in quiet amusement. She’d be busting Abby’s balls, and she wouldn’t be subtle about it. She loved a good opportunity to break out her internal sarcasm machine, and this would be a great one.

  She cast a resigned gaze across the table at her friend. “All right. Level with me. How many people know?”

  Abby put a hand over her heart. “I don’t know, I swear! If you would’ve asked me five minutes ago, I would’ve sworn it was only me.”

  Gen’s stomach swirled. All of this was moving way too fast. For well over a decade, things had been one way: she and Gavin had a nice little no-strings, no-feelings private arrangement – emphasis on private – that worked out very nicely for both of them. No fuss, no muss.

  Now everything was changing. They might still have no strings, but it was starting to look like having no feelings was going to be a thing of the past.

  As was the whole thing being private.

  She’d heard the expression that the only constant in life was change, but in Valentine Bay, that had never seemed to be the case. There wasn’t much that was different in the sleepy oceanside hamlet now from when Gen was a kid.

  But, dammit, at present, things were definitely turning upside down. And she didn’t know what to do about it except fasten her seatbelt and hold on for the ride.

  Chapter 9

  Gavin sat up straight, soaked in sweat. His eyes were open wide, but they might as well have been shut as they searched the darkness for any hint of light, any clue to his whereabouts. There were none.

  His training kicked in immediately, and he didn’t move a muscle. He hoped to God he hadn’t cried out before waking, but there was nothing he could do about that now. The best thing to do moving forward was just attract as little attention as possible.

  He forced his breath to be slow and shallow, making as little noise as humanly possible. His heartbeat sounded like a bass drum in his own ears, but he knew that was only inside his own body. He marshaled his formidable will and forced his heart to slow.

  As the seconds passed by, each one its own fresh torture, the details of Gavin’s surroundings slowly came back to him. He was in bed, not in a war zone, but in his brother Troy’s house. He was out of the military—and that situation was a whole war zone of its own, just raging inside his gut rather than around his head.

  Speaking of internal battlegrounds…

  He rubbed his eyes and jumped out of bed. What might be happening between him and Genevieve was not a topic he planned to start mulling over in the middle of the night, especially not after a nightmare.

  Figuring a snack or some fresh air would pull his mind back to reality, he pulled on jeans and a T-shirt and padded down the stairs and into the kitchen, moving in stealth mode to avoid waking his family.

  When he stepped into the kitchen, he saw his efforts had been futile.

  Mila sat at the center island, motionless on the stool, as if she’d been waiting for him to come down.

  He tilted his head at her. “Hey, kid. What are you doing up?”

  She shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep. I was thinking about getting a snack. You?”

  He nodded. “Same. Want some hot cocoa? That’s always been my go-to, can’t-sleep, late-night snack.”

  She smiled. “Yes, please.”

  Gavin gathered the necessary supplies from the cabinet and refrigerator and set about making the cocoa. As he stirred the fragrant mixture, he said, “So, what’s keeping you up at night?”

  “I’m worried about you,” his sister replied, her voice frank and matter-of-fact.

  He glanced at her over his shoulder. “Worried about me? Why?”

  She gave him a “who do you think you’re kidding?” look and didn’t reply.

  He sighed and went back to stirring the hot chocolate. “Yeah, okay, fair enough.”

  He divided the rich, dark mixture evenly into two mugs and set Mila’s down in front of her, placing the other one on the opposite side of the island and settling himself on the corresponding stool. “So, what exactly am I doing that has you so worried?”

  “Why are you out
of the military?” she shot back.

  Damn. The kid got right to the point.

  He decided that a direct question deserved a direct answer. “I have a medical problem. Don’t worry, it’s nothing serious,” he rushed to clarify at her sudden horrified expression. “It’s a small growth on my brain. It barely affects anything, but it keeps me from flying. And flying’s all I know.”

  “They wouldn’t have given you a different job?”

  “They would’ve,” he conceded. “But I didn’t want it. It would’ve been like trying to live the same life, but it was only a shadow of what it used to be. What’s the point?”

  Mila considered this for a moment. Finally, she nodded. “Yeah. I get it, I think.”

  A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “You do, huh?”

  “Yeah. I mean, it’s kind of like after Mom and Dad died. Troy moved here so that I could stay in our house and Valentine Bay. Go to the same school. Have everything exactly the same. Except, like…it wasn’t the same. And it never could be. As much as I was happy staying, because moving would’ve been crazy scary, it was also kind of sucky for everything to be so totally the same except for that one thing: they weren’t there.”

  Gavin’s eyebrows shot up. “Holy shit, you do get it.”

  Her jaw dropped and eyes widened, then a broad grin spread across her face.

  He grimaced. “How about we don’t tell Troy about that. He won’t think I’m the best influence.”

  She stuck out her pinky. “Pinky swear.”

  As much as it went against every fiber in his gruff, manly being, he wrapped his own pinky up with hers and completed the ritual. If there was one thing that went against his grain more than entering into the kind of pact sealed with his smallest finger and favored by junior high school girls, it was disappointing his sister.

  Mila took a sip of her hot cocoa. “Mmmm. It’s good. Spicy or something.”