by Loraine, Kim
He didn’t answer. Instead, he lowered his lips to hers and sent fire racing through her.
Why couldn’t she say it?
Her heart ached to tell him, but her head held her back.
Chapter 26
Valerie snuggled deeper under the covers. They’d gone on to party late into the night with Lena, Michael, and all of their friends and family. She smiled to herself at the memory of him holding her close, pressing her against his body, as tightly as decency would allow while they danced.
The dress had affected him exactly as she’d predicted. She thought, at one point, they might not make it home before he had her pushed against a wall with her skirt around her waist. But propriety won out over lust, and they made it home. The skirt raising and wall pushing happened from elevator to apartment.
She stretched and yawned in the pre-dawn gray of the wee hours of morning. Never a good sleeper after too much alcohol, she tossed around on the bed and finally got up, heading to the bathroom for some quality time with her toothbrush. She was deliciously sore between her legs and hopeful for a round of morning sex at a more decent hour.
Donovan stood in the middle of the room when she got back, eyes wide and unblinking. His skin shone, wet with sweat.
“Donovan?”
He gave no answer, only stared at the space in front of him.
“Donovan, what’s wrong?”
She reached up to him as she crossed the room, needing to comfort him, to help him through what was clearly a panic attack.
“You’re dead, go away, you’re dead.” He looked right through her, a broken sob escaping him.
“Donovan, it’s me. It’s Valerie.” Her hand pushed the hair from his eyes carefully. He still kept his gaze trained across the room. Whatever he saw, it wasn’t her.
Without warning, his hand flashed through the air, hitting her across the cheek as it passed. “No! Don’t touch me. John, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
She stumbled across the room with the force of his strike. Her cheek blazing with a sharp pain.
As she sat in a heap on the floor, she watched him wrestle with his dream, trying to take back control. He blinked hard and sucked in a sharp breath when awareness took hold. Watching the realization dawn on him, the truth of what he’d just done, broke her heart. His face crumbled.
“Oh, my God. Valerie, sweetheart, fuck. I’m so sorry. Fuck.”
She pushed herself to a standing position and fought the tears in her eyes.
“You were dreaming. I shouldn’t have—” He picked her up as though she weighed nothing and laid her on the bed.
“Shh, sweetheart, let me get you some ice.”
Her heart shattered at the guilt on his face as he turned to head toward the kitchen. The pain in her cheek had quieted to a dull ache. She wasn’t even sure she needed ice at this point. What she needed was Donovan.
He burst through the door with an ice pack in hand, searching her eyes for something.
“I’m fine. It doesn’t even hurt anymore.”
His fingers traced her cheekbone gingerly, as if he were afraid he’d break her. “Are you sure you’re all right? I can’t believe I did that to you.”
She took his hand and stared straight into his green eyes. “You didn’t know I was there. You were in the middle of a flashback or something. I should have realized it, but you looked so scared. I just wanted to snap you out of it.”
He gritted his teeth. She could tell he was disgusted with himself.
“That’s no excuse. I’ve never hit a woman, never.”
“You didn’t hit me on purpose. It was an accident, not out of anger.” She bit her lip, building the courage to ask what she really wanted to know. “Are you still in counseling?”
“No. Not anymore. I haven’t needed it in over a year.”
Her chest tightened. Clearly he did need it.
“Have you had other flashbacks recently?”
He shook his head, eyes cast down. With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, she realized he was lying. Was he trying to protect himself? Her?
“Fine, whatever. I’m here, ready to listen, but I need you to be aware of one thing. I hate being lied to. It’s probably the worst thing you could do to me. I can deal with whatever issues you might be working through, but lying is it for me. Trust is a big deal.”
He locked eyes with her. “I’m telling you the truth when I say I love you and never meant to hurt you.”
“That’s not what I’m questioning.”
“You’re questioning me? My truth, my honesty?” She watched his face change from a pleading expression to one of anger and frustration. “I haven’t even brought up the fact that Klipper saw you out on a date with Blake while I was gone. I was trusting you, not listening to his bullshit. Who’s lying now?”
The accusation felt more like being hit than when he’d actually struck her. “I . . . It wasn’t a date.” Her voice was soft, ashamed.
“So you were with him?”
“We ran into each other after yoga. We had a cup of coffee.”
She knew it wasn’t a big deal, that Blake wasn’t a threat to Donovan. Unfortunately for her, Donovan didn’t feel the same way. She watched the telltale muscle in his jaw twitch as he worked to push the anger away.
“Why didn’t you tell me if it wasn’t anything to be ashamed of?”
“It was so unimportant I forgot to mention it.”
“The guy is after you, Valerie. He’s said it directly to me.” He paced the floor, raking a hand through his hair.
“I think you’re missing the point. I am not interested in him. I’ve told you over and over.” She reached out to him, stopping him mid-pace. A hand on either side of his face, she stood on her tip-toes and pulled his face down toward hers. “You, Donovan. It’s you. Not him. Stop ruining us by worrying about him.”
His eyes were pained as she watched him try to conquer the doubt.
“I can’t lose you. You’re the only thing that keeps me put together.” He lowered his forehead to touch hers.
“Stop worrying about losing me. Just focus on being with me. Here.”
With a soft nudge of his nose, she tipped her chin up to meet his lips with hers.
Valerie broke their kiss and pulled him back to the bed. Flashback and the pain in her cheek long forgotten, she gave herself over to the whirlwind of sensation that was his detailed attentions to her body.
Donovan rolled his head from side to side, stretching the tight muscles in his neck and groaning slightly at the pull. He’d slept on the couch. Slept wasn’t really the right word to use. He’d fought with sleep all night, constantly fearing he’d be dragged down into the throes of yet another nightmare.
“What are you doing out here, hotshot?” Valerie’s gentle voice floated across the room.
His muscles relaxed instantly at the sound of her voice. This is what she did to him. She was a calming breeze, blowing over him and setting everything right.
“Couldn’t sleep.”
“Couldn’t or wouldn’t?”
Shit, she had him pegged. “I’m fine, okay? I just didn’t feel like a repeat performance.”
Cautiously, he reached up and brushed a finger over the bruise blossoming on her cheek. Guilt rained down on him, causing a sick feeling to twist in the pit of his stomach.
“I’m fine, Donovan.”
“Bullshit, sweetheart. That bruise says otherwise.”
Her face softened as she leaned into his touch. “You’re not going to hurt me, not on purpose.”
“I’d die before laying a hand on you in anger.” It might have been melodramatic, but it was the truth. The possibility he could become his father scared the shit out of him.
She took his hand
in her own small, warm one. “I know that. Do you?”
He nodded, not trusting his voice to remain steady.
“Come back to bed?” She cocked one blond eyebrow and tugged at his hand.
When he hesitated, she sighed and turned a pouty face toward him.
“The bed is cold when you’re not there.”
He fought the smirk growing on his lips. The idea of her needing him, wanting him next to her, made a fierce pride race through him. He let her lead him to the bed and watched as she pulled the tie on her robe free.
“Skin to skin,” she whispered, as the fabric fell from her shoulders in a quiet rush.
Fire burned through his veins as he took in the soft lines of her body. Thin strips of sunlight streamed in through the partially opened blinds, casting a golden glow around her form. Her hair, loose and flowing down her back, appeared translucent in the morning light.
“God, you’re so beautiful.” He crossed the room in three measured steps, pulling his T-shirt over his head on the way. Her hands were hot against his chest as she ran them over his bare skin, tickling him lightly when she touched his ribs.
“I love how ticklish you are.”
He squirmed against her as she made another pass over his sensitive skin. “Stop it, you devil woman.”
Her wicked fingers moved faster, sending him to the bed in a fit of laughter.
“I love it when you squirm. My big tough firefighter, reduced to giggles just from a little tickling.”
Twisting his torso away from her fingers, he reached up to ensnare her wrists in his hands.
“Gotcha,” he said, fighting back a groan as she straddled his boxer-clad hips.
“I beg to differ, hotshot. It looks like I’m the one who has you.” She slipped one hand free of his grip and reached down under the waistband of his boxers to brush the tip of his raging arousal. He hissed out an uncontrolled breath at the contact, dying to be inside her, but not wanting the foreplay to end. She looked at him, straight into his soul with those aqua eyes, and pulled her other hand free of his half-hearted restraint. Valerie’s gaze twinkled mischievously as she wrapped her hand around his cock and stroked its length, causing him to buck under her grip.
“Fuck, sweetheart.”
“Not yet, hotshot.”
He watched, heart pounding, sweat beading on his forehead, as she slid her body down his legs, taking his boxers with her and leaving him naked and painfully aroused.
“Where are you going?” he asked, watching her move to settle her body atop his shins.
“Shh.” Her long hair brushed his thighs as she lowered herself, mere centimeters from his length. “Don’t rush me.”
He tried steady breaths, deep and controlled. He tried reciting the alphabet backward, counting in Japanese, anything he could think of to distract him from the sensation of her breath on his sensitive skin, her lips brushing over him with a feather-light touch.
“Jesus, sweetheart.” He couldn’t take the teasing.
Just when he thought he’d have to take matters into his own hands, her lips covered him and he thought his head would explode as the sensations overtook him. She moved smoothly over him, the warmth of her mouth and the gentle scrape of her teeth sending tingles racing through his body. He had to stop her before she finished him off then and there. Tangling his fingers in her golden hair, he pulled her up and off of him.
“What are you doing? I wasn’t done.” She pouted slightly and made to take up her attentions again.
“No, no, sweetheart. I want this to last and if you keep doing that, I definitely won’t.”
She grinned up at him and nodded. “I like that I can do that to you.”
“Do what?”
“Bring you to the edge.”
“Sweetheart, you can throw me over the fucking edge.”
The sound of her laughter filled the room, bringing a smile to his lips and giving him a chance to seize control of the situation. He wrapped her in his arms and rolled them over, spreading her knees and pressing his hips into hers.
Eyes focused on her pools of blue, he stared at her, serious now. “I love you, Valerie. You might not be able to say it, but it doesn’t make my feelings less true.”
She held his gaze as he moved into her. “I know.”
Chapter 27
“Shut the damn thing down, sweetheart. You can’t will them away by staring at them.” Donovan came out of the bathroom with a towel around his hips, drops of water beading on his naked torso, and smelling of body wash and shaving cream.
With a guilty feeling clawing at her, Valerie slammed her laptop shut. “They’ll be here in thirty minutes, you know? You should put on some clothes.”
He cocked an eyebrow and smirked over his shoulder as he dropped the towel to the floor on his way back to his bedroom. Her breath caught in her throat. Good lord, the man was gorgeous. Licking her lips, she followed him into the darkened room. She pushed back the worries of Mick, the mortified looks on her parents’ faces when she’d told them about the pictures, and the uncomfortable feeling that everyone she met had seen her breasts.
Donovan’s hands wrapped around her waist and pulled at her cotton T-shirt. “Stop.”
“Stop what?” She sighed when his fingertips traced the lines of her ribs and worked their way to the clasp of her bra.
“Stop thinking about it. It hurts me when you frown.”
His lips sent tingles through her as he fell to his knees and kissed along the sensitive skin of her hip.
“We don’t have enough time,” she murmured halfheartedly as he popped the button of her jeans and shimmied them down her legs.
“That’s a challenge I’m willing to accept.” He had a wicked glint in his eye as he hooked his thumbs in the sides of her panties and started tugging.
A knock on the door stopped them in their tracks.
“Fuck,” he muttered.
For the first time since they’d met, she was frustrated by Grace’s tendency to be at least fifteen minutes early for everything. Throwing her clothes back on, she pulled herself from Donovan’s grip.
“We’ll pick this up later.” She winked at him and almost melted on the spot at the dejected look on his face.
“We’d better. I’ll go, uh, get dressed.”
After a cursory glance in the mirror, so she could ensure she was covered and not looking like she’d just had a good roll in the hay, she opened the door to see a glowing Grace and pensive Drew.
“Hi!” She beamed at Grace, beautiful and sporting a noticeable baby bump. “You’re so . . . pregnant.”
Grace grinned. “I know. I’m only four months, but I feel huge already.”
“Is it twins?”
Drew’s eyebrows rose in an amused expression. “Have you not told her about the scan?”
“I guess not. In all the craziness the last few days, I must’ve forgotten to let you know. Yeah, twins. I’m going to get so fat.”
Valerie watched as Drew dropped a kiss on Grace’s head and pulled her against him.
“None of that, love.” He placed a palm over the mound of her belly and looked at her. “You’re perfect.”
Grace’s cheeks reddened and Valerie led the way into the living room.
“Donovan’s just getting ready. He got off shift this morning so he needed a shower.”
“God, he must be tired. Are you sure we’re not imposing?” Grace asked.
“I’m good.” Donovan walked in, his casual GBFD shirt and pair of worn jeans sending a flutter of arousal through her.
She watched nervously as he and Drew sized each other up. According to Grace, the last time they’d seen each other Donovan had been anything but polite. She observed the flicker of hurt that passed over his face as he took in D
rew’s striking similarities to John. His eyes flared open a little too wide, his breath caught ever-so-slightly, and he had to pause a beat before he was able to bring himself to offer a hand.
“It’s good to see you, Drew. I’m sorry about how I acted at our first meeting.”
Drew, easy-going as always, took the apology and smiled. “No worries, mate. I expect it was a shock.”
Valerie knew it the moment Grace spotted the bruise on her cheek under her carefully applied concealer.
“What happened to your cheek?”
She watched Donovan tense and was about to offer some excuse when he said, “I had a nightmare about John. I didn’t know she was there . . . I backhanded her.”
The range of emotion that crossed Grace’s features was curious. Valerie watched as she waffled from outraged to sympathetic and finally landed on understanding.
“John did that to me once. I don’t think he ever forgave himself. He got me on the jaw. It hurt for weeks.”
Drew stiffened next to her.
“The ghosts, they sneak in. You seeing a good counselor?” Grace asked.
“I was.”
“Maybe you still need to be.”
He nodded. Grace was so matter-of-fact, saying the things Valerie hadn’t had the guts to say.
The four of them spent the day catching up and walking along the beach. Valerie worked hard to steer the conversations away from the topic of her pictures, not wanting to let Mick darken the day.
“You need to get it over with, sweetheart,” Donovan whispered in her ear as they strolled along the boardwalk.
Grace and Drew walked arm in arm, disgustingly in love.
“I don’t want to,” she whined.
He pulled her to him and kissed her, hard, right there in front of the rest of the town. “You need to do this.”