A Kindled Winter

by Rachel L. Demeter

  He briefly shut his eyes; within his mind, an image of Lizzy surfaced. How many times had he reached out for her, just like this, only to have his hand shoved away? Not yet. Please. Stop it. Don’t touch me. I’m not ready, David.

  Her voice emerged from the place inside his mind where she lurked like a tumor. A tumor that had weakened him, that had grown louder over the years and more detrimental to his existence. Night after night, Lizzy had whispered those damming words, abandoning him to a world of solitude and grief. And yet Jeseca had welcomed him in. She didn’t turn away or murmur cold objections; instead, she leaned into his disfigured palm without judgment or disgust. She accepted him at face value—and saw past his hardened exterior and into the frayed depths of his soul.

  But would Jeseca still accept him if she knew the truth?

  No, of course not. I can’t even accept myself.

  David’s dark thoughts were cropped short. Jeseca grounded her hips against his erection, and his entire body roared to life. Her feminine folds wrapped him without penetration, encasing him in wetness and promising heat. She slid up and down his throbbing shaft, up and down …

  So close, yet so far away. The teasing pleasure was mind-blowing and drove him mad with desire. A rough growl reverberated inside his chest and echoed every corner of the bedroom. Towering above him and entirely in control, she looked exquisite, commanding; her eyes were hooded with acute pleasure, a stunning glow brightened her alabaster complexion, and her lips were bruised from their kissing.

  Delicate palms sensually moved up and down her firm stomach, over the tender swell of her breasts, all the way to her neck. Rocking her hips, she moaned low in her throat, and the sound ricocheted through David’s mind and body. Then she slid along his turgid length at an increased tempo, wrapping him in wet, hot warmth. The torture was exquisite … far beyond anything he’d ever experienced.

  It was nearly his undoing.

  “Please, Jeseca …” His voice was hoarse, a choked whisper.

  She locked onto his eyes and leaned forward until the tips of her breasts were inches from his mouth. Then she slithered down his chest and crouched between his thighs. She nudged his legs apart—and without warning, took him inside her mouth. Just barely. Just enough to drive him completely and utterly mad.

  “Ah, Christ. Jes—”

  Those warm, wet lips encased him, sucked him in deep, deep, deep … nursing his mind and body of its final resistance. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, rational thoughts battled to be heard: I should stop her now. We’ve both been swept into a fantasy … a world of make believe. We can’t be together. Too much sets us apart. And if she only knew the truth …

  But sensation drowned out David’s thoughts, disintegrating them into white noise. Her tongue rubbed up and down his rock hard shaft, moving in sync with her revolving mouth. She hummed lightly in her throat, and the vibrations shot through his entire body. Acute, roaring pleasure mounted deep within—and her every gesture, every movement, every sound, added wood to that inner fire. Muffled groans and curses rumbled inside his throat; he threw his head against the mattress, stared up at the hovering canopy, and clenched his fingers several times.

  Her hands joined in the erotic dance, wrapping his shaft in the empty space below her mouth, working him into a state of pure, mind-bending pleasure. Every nerve ending caught fire while she eased him deep inside the cavern of her throat, encasing him in hot wetness. She swallowed him almost to the root, while her palms worked his aching scrotum. Her tongue slid up and down his concealed length in repetitive movements, up and down, driving him wild …

  Barely able to control his breathing, David’s fingers wove into the voluptuous waves of her hair. Burning heat shot through his veins in a violent storm. Her grip tightened; his grip on the sheets tightened. Her circular motions quickened, quickened, quickened, her palms groped and groped—and the erotic tango seduced him dangerously close to that edge. He held his breath and clung on tight—not willing to surrender just yet.

  Not without Jeseca.

  “Jeseca … oh, God …” She paused her movements and loosened her grasp. His back shot up from the bed and their lips crashed together in an explosive motion. Her heart banged against his own, strong and sure, as their tongues danced an erotic duel. His palms slid up and down her nude skin, reveling in her softness, her warmth, everything that was Jeseca Reed.

  After so many years of solitude … so many years of loneliness … her nearness overwhelmed him. He needed her with a longing that couldn’t be denied. And he could see it in her emerald eyes, feel it in her skin … she needed him with an equal hunger and desperation.

  We need each other. Truer words had never been spoken.

  But he’d always remain a doctor first and foremost. He forced himself to slow their passionate exploration and stilled her undulating body with his hands. Perspiration formed in the scarred crevices that embedded his palms. Each breath was a struggle, and his heart raced at breakneck speed. “Jeseca. Wait. Are you on protection?”

  She nodded as a light blush exploded on the apples of her cheeks. “Yes. Of course I am.”

  “And when were you checked?”

  “While I was with my last boyfriend, a little over a year ago.” She hesitated, and the blush intensified. “You should know—I’m not usually so forward. I don’t normally do … this. With someone I’ve known for only a week, I mean. But with you, I’m finding that everything is just …”

  “Different,” he finished, simultaneously stroking her flushed cheeks.

  “Exactly.” Her lips quirked into a sweet curve, which reminded him of a Cupid’s bow. “And how about you, Doctor?”

  “I’ve only been with Lizzy.”

  Her eyes widened at his words. “What? Are … are you serious?”

  “We were high school sweethearts.” He swallowed and raked a hand through his hairline. “And years ago, after the accident … I didn’t get out much. I—”

  Jeseca silenced his words with a fierce kiss. Her mouth slammed against his own, her pale hands wove in his hair, and he ceased to think. Pure sensation and emotion took command—and he wanted nothing more to possess this magnificent woman’s mind, body, and soul.

  Damn. She’d already possessed him.

  He encased her body with his arms, flipped her under his chest, and maneuvered on top of her. Her breasts rose and fell with her deep exhales and inhales, and a flush set her skin aglow. Fiery curls cushioned her face in a wild flurry. Body humming, David leaned forward and pressed a featherlight kiss to her forehead. She took advantage of the movement and wrapped a hand around his nape. Reeling him against her, she whispered inside his mouth, “Love me, David.”

  Love me, David.

  Her whispered plea sent his heart racing at full force. He needed no further encouragement. Releasing a deep groan, he slid inside her, burying himself to the root. She trembled against his body and held tighter to his neck. Heartbeat to heartbeat, David gently maneuvered in and out of her slick walls. Her hot, sweet breaths wafted against his cheeks and elevated his senses.

  She clung to his back, grasping onto him like a lifeline, and David knew he would cease to exist apart from her. With each thrust, her body gripped onto him in an unyielding clasp, forcing them back as one. David curled his face against her neck and held on tight. Their heartbeats slammed together, connecting their spirits in a profound and inseparable way.

  Then she raised her neck off the mattress, and pressed her lips against one of his most prominent scars. The gesture was more than he could endure. Jolts of pleasure overcame every pore, every nerve, every fiber of his being. She cried out, shivering and quaking beneath him.

  Joining in her release, he buried himself deep inside her body and threw his head back with a guttural roar. Climax conquered him in a sweet, sweeping rush. The mingled sounds of their shared ecstasy slammed together, overflowing all of Blue River, Oregon. Pulse racing, David held her soundly against his scarred chest, never intending to
let her go, and abandoned himself to the perfect feeling of oneness … if only for this moment.

  •

  Jeseca stirred awake as morning’s light wriggled through the curtains. David glanced at the woman lying in his arms and felt his heart beat a little faster. He brushed away her wayward curls, pressed two fingertips beneath her chin, and propped her head. Sunlight trickled across her face and set her features aglow. He studied the cluster of freckles that adorned her nose, aching to acquaint himself with each one.

  “Good morning, Jeseca.”

  Her smile transformed into a large bear yawn. She laughed and pressed her palm against her gaping mouth. “Good morning to you, too.”

  She cleared her throat and scooted over several inches, creating a slight barrier between them. Then a faint blush brightened her cheekbones and spread down her neck, descending into the gaping V of her pajama top.

  The entire bed rocked and shifted as Brody leapt onto mattress. His body wagged from side to side, causing the bed to manically jostle and sway. “Brody, you’re making me seasick!” The beast crawled in between David and Jeseca’s bodies and flopped down with an old man’s groan. His tongue slashed through the air like a whip, missing Jeseca’s cheek by a few centimeters. Rich, robust laughter echoed the room and warmed David’s insides. Jeseca curled her arms around Body’s enormous fluffy head and pressed a kiss between his jet-black eyes. She was instantly rewarded with a barrage of licks and enthusiastic barks. “Oh, jeez, he’s so warm,” she said, hugging his body against her torso. “It’s like having an extra blanket. Or two. Or three.”

  Emotion pressed hard on David’s throat, making it damn near impossible to speak. The scenario stuck a chord deep within. And for a fleeting moment, he imagined a couple of children sandwiched in between their bodies. Perhaps a girl and a boy … a pair of twins.

  Could it ever be? Do I dare to have hope?

  The night before, everything aside from the feel of her in his arms, the tremulous beat of her heart pressed against his own, had gone forgotten. The painful memories of his past, the nightmares and ghosts … they’d all fallen away.

  Only he and Jeseca had existed.

  Brody continued to dampen her cheeks with sloppy kisses. David felt strangely envious. Smiling, he tugged on Brody’s collar and wrestled him off the bed. “Enough now, you big oaf.”

  Comfortable silence passed between them. Beyond the window, the sun shifted in the sky and cast a prism of light across the mattress. Jeseca reached for his hand, which was folded over his stomach, and traced her fingertips over the raised burns and welts. When she at last spoke, her voice was soft and inviting. In spite of himself, David felt something inside his chest crack open. “Tell me. How did it happen?”

  She had shared that deep, intimate part of herself days before—and last night, they’d shared each other irrevocably.

  Can I do the same? Am I ready? Will I ever be ready?

  He exhaled a long, steadying breath and met her gaze. She propped onto an elbow and hovered above his reclined body. Soft, warm fingertips continued to track over his scarred hand and arm … tracing the swooping design of his tattoo in reassuring touches. “I must say … Charlie had great taste,” she said through a small, sad smile. “I always thought Spider-Man was the best of all the superheroes. His human side and flaws … they make him so much more genuine and … well, real.”

  David responded with a sharp nod as the silence expanded indefinitely.

  “David, I … I realize you don’t know me all that well … but I feel a kindred spirit with you. I understand you. And I’m here for you … just as you were for me.”

  He lifted a hand, almost in slow motion, and ran his knuckles along the delicate curve of her chin. Then he held it up to the light and examined the welted skin. Emotion constricted his throat, making it difficult to speak, difficult to think, difficult to draw breath. How he ached to no longer hide within himself … to no longer be alone and ruled by the shadows of his past.

  He’d known this moment would come. But was he ready for it?

  The gentle whisper of Jeseca’s fingertips empowered him. It was a simple gesture, though infinitely powerful. The comfort and acceptance she offered sent his heart racing.

  David drew on her strength.

  “Charlie was only seven years-old. I was preparing to cook on the stove-top … some grilled vegetables and chicken, I think. It doesn’t matter. Anyway, I was on call that night. I received a text message from the answering service while I was prepping my food …” His voice sounded muffled, distant. He swallowed and focused on the feel of Jeseca’s hand in his own, the warmth of her body, the transient caress of the sunbeams. “One of my older patients had gone into cardiac arrest. I left the house right away … forgot to switch the damn stove-tops off—” His heart pounded fiercely in his eardrums, and the entire room seemed to spin. “I came home hours later, in the middle of the night. Stripped off my scrubs and collapsed into bed without a second thought. An explosion woke me. I ran into the kitchen, my heart in my throat … Charlie was there, next to his step stool … he’d—he’d stolen some cookies from the jar. The container was lying on the tile floor, shattered into a million pieces. And the room—Christ, it was on fire. Burning.”

  He tensed, tightened his hold on Jeseca’s hand, and squeezed both eyes shut. The memories blazed behind his eyes and seared his heart. “Charlie was on fire … burning. God, I—I grabbed him without thinking … rolled across the tile floor … did everything in my power to snuff out the flames. ‘Take me instead,’ I remembered praying. ‘Please, just spare my son. God, please.’ Lizzy’s voice echoed the room—I remember it sounding oddly muffled, distant … as if she was miles away. ‘You have to save him, David, oh, God, please, please, please…’ But it was too late. I was too late. Charlie died in my arms.”

  He lowered his head as the tears came at full force. They coated his cheeks and shattered his words. Heart pounding, he fought to gain control of his emotions. The scents of ashes and boiling flesh swelled his nostrils. Bile rose inside his throat, hot and churning. He exhaled a long, calming breath as grief-filled tears burned his cheeks. This degree of vulnerability … it was so unlike him. He felt exposed and completely at Jeseca’s mercy.

  All the while, she remained right there with him—her arms fastened around his body, her soothing whispers in his ear.

  “The entirety of my adult life was spent saving lives, yet I was unable to save my own son. I was prepared to sacrifice everything. Yet it wasn’t enough. Lizzy never forgave me, of course. Up until the very end, when the cancer finally took her, she grew as distant as a stranger … cold, hateful, withdrawn. And I never once blamed her. How could she forgive me—how could she look at me with anything other than disgust—when I could never forgive myself? Over time, I grew cold, hateful, and withdrawn as well. Everything became a bitter reminder … and I loathed myself. I loathed living. And I loathed God most of all.” His heart was in his throat, sweat rained from his hairline, and every emotion, every vulnerability lay out in the open. “So, tell me. Do I disgust you now?” Holding his scarred hands up to morning’s light, he continued beneath a choked whisper, “These scars—do they disgust you, Jeseca? Do you want to leave?”

  Jeseca answered with her touches. She climbed on top of David’s body, held him soundly to her heart, and laid her cheek against his tearstained face. Then her fingers threaded through his own; she brought his palm against her mouth and molded her lips around the elevated skin. When she at last spoke, her voice was little more than a whisper and seething with compassion. “Hands and hearts …”

  He embraced her as the five-year burden lifted from his soul. Their tears mingled as they silently wept together, arm in arm, heartbeat to heartbeat.

  Minutes later, sleep crept up on David while he continued to hold Jeseca in his arms. And for once, he wasn’t met with nightmares of fire, grief, or burning flesh. Instead, he was greeted by snowy Christmas mornings, Charlie’s bright expr
ession as he tore open his presents, and the prospect of new beginnings.

  Contentment swelled the dark, inner void and beckoned David forward with open arms. And within his dreams, he checked another item off his list: he could dare to hope.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  One night till New Year’s Eve

  David and Jeseca spent the next few days falling into a comfortable rhythm. Together, they cooked meals, read books aloud to each other, traded childhood stories, debated politics, dined before the blazing fireplace, and lost themselves deep in conversation. It was as if a ticking clock had been set, and they were struggling to absorb as much as they could of one other before it went off.

  The Auto Club had arrived early that morning. After some rather extensive on-site repairs and an energized kick to the pants, Jeseca’s beloved Civic had spurted back to life.

  And soon it would carry her far from David’s arms.

  Jeseca was miles away from her family—yet, strangely enough, she couldn’t remember when she’d enjoyed such a wonderful holiday. For the first time in so many years, the painful memories remained at bay—and only joyous, warm thoughts occupied her mind and heart. Even more, she felt like she was already home … like she finally belonged somewhere and with someone. And she knew that she was falling for David Drake hard and fast.

  Yet, beneath the placid calm lurked an unspoken tension. The past few nights Jeseca had lay in bed while his confession raced through her mind. And, each night, she woke with a sob in her throat and tears cascading down her cheeks. She fought the desire to slip into his bed and fall asleep in his arms—yet knew that doing so would only make their inevitable separation more difficult.

  Her prayers were answered. He came to her the night before her departure.

  Jeseca’s heart somersaulted as the door creaked open, causing a long shaft of light to split the room in two. Barely breathing, she fumbled into an upright position and nudged Brody aside.

  Her pulse leapt into high gear as she drank in David’s massive silhouette. He stood beneath the archway, silent and still, the wide breadth of his shoulders swelling the emptiness. Tension filled every corner of the room and poisoned the air. Heart in her throat, Jeseca swallowed and swept an errant curl from her eyes. His head was lowered at a slight angle, both hands were clenched into tight fists, and his stiff posture exuded despair.