Bittersweet: Can she rebuild her life?

by Lyz Kelley

  “Why. Did you like it?”

  “Your kisses are like chocolate fondue. Sweet, messy, and hot.” She pointed to the upper floor. “But your niece is here.”

  “Yes. She is. And so are you.”

  Her mouth tingled with need. Her lips wanted another kiss. More than one.

  “You smell delicious. I’ve wanted to taste you since the moment you walked in the door.” He pressed his mouth to her throat. “Mmmm. I feel your heart. It’s beating rather quickly.”

  She pushed him back. “It’s bedtime.”

  A suggestive smile flashed across his face.

  “No. Not that type of bedtime. It’s Ellie’s. We promised to read her a story.”

  “You promised, but I agree. It’s story time.” His husky whisper aroused every girly bit with little effort.

  He sauntered toward the stairs as nothing had happened.

  The jerk. Her girls screamed for satisfaction. Even her nipples beckoned him to come back and play.

  “Are you coming?”

  No. But I’d like to.

  She shuffled over to the stairs.

  Twenty minutes later Ellie was sound asleep and tucked in tight, with the covers under her chin and her newly acquired stuffed lion next to her head.

  Heath leaned in to kiss Ellie’s forehead. “Sleep tight, Squirt.”

  The picture-perfect image touched her heart.

  Screw the uniform avoidance. She could love a man like Heath. He might not be getting the juggling life bit quite right, but he loved Ellie, and put in a lot more effort than some people. In fact, his efforts made her rethink family possibilities.

  He switched off the light and tiptoed out of the room, closing the door to just a sliver.

  She took a step toward the stairs, but he grabbed her hand. He glanced at his room, then back at her with a question in his eyes.

  She didn’t need a college education to understand what he asked. She quietly followed him down the hall. He locked his bedroom door, then reached for the hem of her long-sleeve T. Without a word, he slid the cotton over her head.

  “Are you ever going to tell me about those burn marks and scars?”

  The torture for not complying with her captors came sliding back. “They are just war wounds. Like permanent medals of honor. Nothing more.”

  She held her breath wondering if he’d believe her rhetoric.

  He kissed the puckered skin marks, one by one, until her body relaxed.

  Returning the favor, she kissed the small scar on his chest while the cotton went flying. She shivered as he slid her jeans down her thighs. Her hands trembled as she reached for his top button. Impatiently, he brushed her hands away.

  “Get to bed.”

  “My mom used to tell me she’d beat me if I didn’t stay in bed.”

  “I’d never beat a woman, but a good spanking now and then might make things interesting.”

  She slowly backed up, bumping against the mattress, then lowered, scooted to the middle, and bunched up into a tight ball.

  He scrambled out of his jeans, then approached the bed slowly. “Talk to me.”

  “I thought…” her eyes met his, “I thought I was finished with my past.” She tried to swallow, but her mouth had gone dry. “When I was…when they took me…”

  “Easy.” He pulled back the bed covers. “It's okay. Take your time.” He rolled under the covers and held them open for her. “You’re safe.” She crawled in and settled on her side, face-to-face. She in her underwear. Heath down to his briefs. She felt so exposed.

  Before, she’d allowed her body to be used for the greater good. She’d been intent on breaking up a sex trafficking ring and putting those bastards away for life. One body in exchange for freeing hundreds of women, girls, boys, and infants.

  She refused to live with regrets, but that didn’t mean fear didn’t raise up its ugly head once in awhile.

  Lying next to a man she could love, she felt naked. Exposed. Unworthy.

  She could feel his warm skin under her fingertips, but could also feel his honor and kindness. He was solid. A wall of bone and muscle, yes, but more than that, he had an inner strength he might not even know existed.

  He made her feel powerful, yet protected.

  Heath leaned in and kissed her nose. “You’re shaking.”

  “Am I?” She lifted her hand. Sure enough, it was trembling.

  He lifted her hand to his lips, and the small gesture liquefied her insides. A low mewling filled the small space. She glanced around, then realized she'd made the sound.

  When she rolled onto her back, Heath followed, kissing and licking. Her skin tingled in places she didn’t even know were sensitive. Sexual zest exploded to her hair roots and out to her fingers and toes.

  He believed in her. He wanted her, scared and all.

  Appreciation made her spiral out of control. His hard length pressed into her thigh, and she breathed out a hot and heavy sigh.

  “Are we good?” he asked.

  No. Not just good. Euphoric. “Don’t stop.” The plea sounded not like her own. Distant. Yet unafraid.

  Leza barely registered Heath taking her hands and holding them over her head. He buried his face in her neck, kissing her down to her breast. She pulled her hands free and spread her fingers over his scalp, tugging at his hair.

  The fear dissipated.

  There were so many things she wanted to do to the sexy man hovering over her, loving, intimate things to replace the ugly memories with fresh, healthy experiences. Just thinking about what she wanted to do made her limbs move with urgent need.

  Sensing her desire, he shifted, and she leaned in to suck on his collarbone.

  “You’re safe,” he whispered gently nibbling on the skin behind her ear.

  She might be safe, but she didn’t want to be in control. She’d lived her life in complete control. Observing. Watching. Judging. She wanted to be free.

  She dug her nails into his back. “Let me feel you.” She explored the smooth landscape of his skin. She pressed her ear against his neck to listen to his pulse pound. She wanted this man.

  Not for a job, or a higher purpose. She just wanted him—now, here, at this moment, with no ulterior motives.

  His arms strained to hold his upper body above hers, yet she wanted to feel his skin plastered to hers. She reached for his neck and mewed a plea. He obliged by reaching around her back to snap her bra open.

  After slowly sliding the straps down her arms, he tossed the fabric away. “You are so beautiful.”

  As if sensing her nerves, he slowed down, taking his time to enjoy each inch of skin he touched. Humming his approval.

  She squirmed with need, and he groaned in response.

  She reached for the elastic of his briefs to return the favor, sliding her hands underneath the fabric and squeezing his cheeks. Heath nibbled gently on her shoulder, his groans growing louder.

  She pressed her hips forward and undulated, communicating her need. He reached for her underwear.

  “Condom?” she asked.

  “Just as soon as I rid you of these striped panties.”

  Oh, gawd. She lifted her hips to help. She could feel the wet heat as his hand brushed the curls between her legs. Heath kissed her and slid open his nightstand drawer. “Should I wait to put the rubber on?”

  “No.”

  He lifted onto his knees and slid on the protection. She shifted underneath him.

  The time and his absence made the fears sneak back in. What if she froze? What if this triggered a memory? What if she couldn't give him what he needed?

  Her need began to evaporate.

  Quickly she conjured an image of her happy place. Walking in Central Park in New York on a Sunday afternoon. The birds were chirping and the flowers blooming in the manicured beds. Kids were playing on the playground. Horses sauntered by. Her breathing evened, just as her trauma counselor promised.

  She grabbed Heath’s waist to move him into position.

 
“Hold on a minute. You went away there for a moment. I want to make sure you’re okay.”

  “Later.”

  He settled over the top of her and gazed into her eyes. He saw her as no one else did. “You promise?”

  “Please, not now.” Her voice trembled. “I need this. I need you.”

  He cupped a hand under her butt and shifted. She bit her lip and waited.

  “You’re so damn beautiful,” he whispered with a moan.

  He laced his fingers with hers and eased into her, withdrawing and then easing in again. “Oh, wow. You feel amazing.”

  Her inner muscles squeezed. He retreated, then slid into her again. She released her own set of soft moans. He continued his slow rhythm, and all she could do was think in single words. Magical. Amazing. Hot. Perfect. Scorching. Full. Sexy.

  She lifted her hips to greet him and connect more deeply. She ached for more. Slid her hands over his hips, across the light sheen of sweat, to position him better.

  The backs of her thighs tingled. For once she didn't have to fake it. Her mutterings were not feigned or fake or coaxed. Her soul wanted this gentle, exciting man.

  Her brain, on the other hand, blared caution.

  He’ll hurt you.

  Something will happen. You’ll see.

  Nothing good ever comes from loving someone.

  She focused on breathing and the rhythm of his loving. Let go. You can do this. Just let go.

  He groaned. The carnal intensity eased her doubt. She raked his back with her nails. He responded with a sexy growl of appreciation.

  This man got her. He cupped her breast to squeeze a nipple. Yep, he so got her.

  “Heath. I’m dying here.”

  He laughed. His teasing was a torture and an ultimate turn-on, but she’d torture him back later.

  He thrust forward a bit harder. She gasped for air. If he didn’t hurry up, she would have to beg.

  She hated begging.

  The vulnerability.

  The honesty.

  Finally, he increased his pace, making her wriggle in ecstasy. Up. Up. Up—and boom! Her nerve endings exploded, her muscles quivering in cascades of tremors. She grabbed a pillow to muffle a scream, but he caught her mouth and swallowed her emotions.

  Seconds later, he exploded with his own pleasure, his body pulsating. The pleasuring shock rocketed through both of them until he collapsed and covered her completely.

  Wow. How she needed this. No. Him. She needed him.

  Minutes later she still clung to him, refusing to let him go.

  He nestled against her jaw. “You’re like water in the desert.”

  He settled closer, if closer was possible.

  Amazing. His hardness brushed against her leg. How could he be hard again?

  She didn't mind. Sexy guy. Emotional healing. Hot sex.

  When he lifted his head, she leaned closer and bit his chin.

  “You’ll pay for that,” he grumbled a smile.

  “I hope so.”

  He nibbled on her ear and released a sound, landing somewhere between lion and elephant. Then he rubbed against her like a cat loving a catnip bag. Thoroughly. With a bit of slobber.

  When she glanced at his face, he gave her a grin, and said, “This time, I’m taking my time.”

  He made his way down to her sweet spot.

  She pressed her head into the pillow.

  OhGodOhGodOhGod. Miracles were real.

  But what would be her penance? Because there was always a price to be paid for happiness.

  Chapter 17

  The bedroom door handle jiggled and jerked Heath awake.

  “Heath?” El tried the knob again. “Why's the door locked?”

  Leza popped onto her elbows and stared at the door.

  “Oh, crap.” His whisper warmed the chilled room.

  “El? Have you taken your shower yet?” He kept his tone steady and even to stall for time.

  “Not yet. Don’t forget to make my lunch.”

  The pat-pat of feet walking away and entering the bathroom on the other side of the wall released the breath he'd been holding. A split second later Leza leapt from the bed and spun in circles, her eyes wide, searching.

  “Looking for this?” Heath looped an index finger through the bra strap and held out his arm.

  She snatched the undergarment. “This isn’t funny.”

  “The look on your face is hilarious.”

  The sound of running shower water further eased the tension from his shoulders.

  Heath tossed back the covers and took the necessary steps to drop a kiss on her forehead. “Why don’t you stay in bed, and I'll bring you breakfast. It's a school day for El, and I have the day off. We can spend the day getting to know each other better. I’m taking Federal Law this semester, so maybe you can help me study.”

  He liked touching her skin, and the last few times weren’t enough. He wanted more. A lot more.

  “I'm not staying in bed. I'm supposed to meet the real estate agent in an hour.”

  “Right.” Heath handed Leza her shirt after taking a deep breath of her sexy, mouthwatering musk. “How about lunch, then?”

  “I…ah…I don't think that’s a good idea,” she whispered...he assumed to avoid making a sound that might travel through the paper-thin walls.

  This was getting ridiculous. He wasn't a teenager kissing his girl crush on the downstairs couch. But then again, his niece didn’t need to see him naked, either.

  He slid on a pair of jeans and tossed a T-shirt over his head, then stopped Leza in the middle of buttoning her pants by giving her a peck on the nose.

  “I loved playing together last night. I hope this morning’s kid wake-up didn’t ruin anything.”

  “No. No. I’m good.”

  But the blinking caution sign reflecting in her eyes had returned.

  “Come down for breakfast. I’ll make eggs and toast.”

  She froze. “With Ellie here? I don't think so. Breakfast wouldn’t be proper.”

  He scratched his head. “I hadn’t thought about having a woman around with Ellie. You’re probably right.”

  “Wait a minute. Are you saying you’ve never dated since getting custody of Ellie?”

  “I've been busy, and...well,” he leaned in closer, “let’s say I didn’t find anyone interesting until you came along.”

  Her intense frown eased. “Oh, yeah?”

  “It's the truth.” He needed to feel her soft lips pressed against his. He indulged himself just a little bit before reluctantly letting go. “I’d better make El’s lunch. I’ll put on a pot of coffee. Come down when you’re ready.”

  He opened the door to check the hall, then quickly closed the door behind him.

  “El?” He called. “What do you want for lunch? Turkey or hummus?”

  The hum of a blow drier silenced. “Hummus. And can I have extra carrots?”

  “Sure.” He walked into the second bedroom with the twin bed, small white dresser, and nightstand he'd managed to find at a garage sale. A little bit of paint and the set looked good as new. He opened the middle dresser drawer, but then saw El had already selected her outfit for the day.

  Not bad, Squirt. Everything matches this time.

  “El do you want your hair braided today?” he called.

  “I’m good.” The blow drier switched on again.

  He touched the picture frame with mother and daughter on their last vacation. Zoe had taken El camping. He’d loved seeing the blue sky and sun-kissed skin and happy faces. They both looked so happy and content.

  You did good, sis. She’s a beautiful kid. I’m doing my best, but you knew I would, didn't you? That's why you picked me without discussing your will. You knew I would try talking you out of your selection. You always did get your way.

  He closed her bedroom door, then rushed down the stairs. After starting the coffee maker, he let Gunther out to do his morning business. He had just finished making El’s lunch and pulled out the eggs when l
ight footsteps pattered down the stairs.

  El set her shoes by the door and hugged Gunther before climbing into the kitchen chair.

  Heath dropped a fruit cup and spoon in front of her and went back to scramble eggs. He slid a couple of slices of wheat bread into the toaster.

  “Aren’t we waiting for Leza?”

  Wait. What? He confronted the inquisitive face.

  She wouldn't let the subject drop. He knew that much, at least.

  “For breakfast?” He stalled, trying to make his overtired brain work.

  Before El could answer the front door opened. “Good morning, you two,” Leza said. “Sorry to drop in unannounced, but I left my purse over here last night.”

  El looked at the front door, then upper floor, her brow creasing deep. He needed to distract her and quickly before she embarrassed Leza.

  He swept around the kitchen island and grabbed El around the middle, tickling her, then kissed her on the cheek. El shrieked, then shrugged her shoulders to her ears. Her dismay turned into a fit of laughter, while Gunther circled his legs and barked.

  He gave Leza a wink and placed his chin on El’s head. “Is your backpack packed for school?”

  “Not yet.”

  He gave her a raspberry kiss on her neck to make her squirm again. “Then I suggest you pack your bag while I make your eggs.”

  He set El on her feet, adjusting her shoulders in line with the stairs, then gave her a push of encouragement.

  She trotted over to the landing with Gunther following her, then stopped. “Leza, it’s okay if you want to stay over again tonight. I don’t mind,” she said then raced up the stairs.

  Leza’s jaw dropped open.

  Busted.

  She glared at Heath.

  “Don’t look at me. I didn’t give El those smarts.”

  Leza trudged into the kitchen. “Please tell me the coffee is brewed. I need a shot of caffeine.”

  Heath opened a cabinet to retrieve a mug, pour the coffee, and hand the dark roast to Leza. The dark, bitter tang wafted around the kitchen.

  “Thanks.”

  “Eggs?” he asked, hoping she might stay longer than the time it took to slam down a cup of caffeine.