Worth Fighting For (Bayside Bachelors #3)

by Judy Duarte

She wanted to make love to him more than she’d ever thought possible. And for some reason, all her reservations about getting involved with him fell by the wayside.

  Tired from her struggles to be strong and do the right thing, she leaned into his embrace, taking whatever he had to offer. She might not be able to depend on him to be at her side forever, but tonight, she needed him to love her. And she needed to feel him deep inside of her.

  As he palmed her breast, his thumb caressed her nipple and sent her senses spinning. She was lost in a swirl of something that was far more powerful, more magical than a woman had a right to experience.

  As the kiss deepened, he moaned into her mouth, pulling her flush against him. She realized he was feeling it, too. The desire to be one, to go all the way.

  She broke the kiss, but only to whisper, “I’m not sure how I’ll feel about this in the morning, but I want to make love tonight.”

  Brett couldn’t have said it any better. He may have fought getting involved with her before, fought the desire that simmered in his blood, but she’d chased the fight out of him.

  Passion clouded the air, making it hard to breathe, to think, to reason. Regret might be a climax away, but there wasn’t a damn thing he wanted more than to bury himself deep within her—now.

  Whatever she was doing to him, whatever she’d already done, scared him spitless, yet not enough to deny himself a night in her bed, a passion-filled night in her arms.

  But reason came crashing to the forefront.

  Sex with her had been on his mind, at least subliminally, since the first day he’d laid eyes on her, but he hadn’t planned on that arousing swim in the ocean, hadn’t planned on making love tonight.

  “I want this, too,” he told her. “But I don’t have any…protection with me.”

  Although that didn’t mean he couldn’t make it good for her.

  What kind of selfish bastard would leave her alone to cool off, while he jogged home and dug through the medicine cabinet and all the drawers to find a rubber that might not even be there?

  “I might have a condom,” she said, her breath coming out whisper soft against his shirt.

  She might? Now that was the best news he’d heard all week. All year. His whole damn life.

  She pulled away. “I haven’t been involved with anyone in a long time, not since just after becoming Emily’s mother.”

  Brett didn’t usually give a damn about a woman’s ex-lovers, but for some reason, he couldn’t stifle his curiosity. Was the guy good to her? Had she loved him? What kind of a fool would let her go?

  She offered him a wobbly smile, then took his hand and led him to her bedroom.

  Checking out her decor was the last thing he intended to do, but he couldn’t help but notice how her scent, her uniqueness, her femininity, practically permeated the pale green walls, the white frilly-style curtains.

  She slipped inside her bathroom and dug through a drawer. When she pulled out a foil packet, she flashed him a rosy-cheeked grin that damn near sent his heart flying topsy-turvy.

  Not his heart, he quickly corrected. His hormones.

  He still feared the hold she had on him. But maybe making love would put things in perspective and help him get back on even ground.

  As she studied the packet and twirled it in her hands, her brow furrowed. Then she brightened. “We’re in luck. It doesn’t expire for another couple of months.”

  He wanted to laugh out loud, to kiss the cute wrinkle in her brow. To relish the fact that she wanted this as badly as he did.

  Instead, he took the condom and tossed it on the white goose-down comforter that covered her bed, then cupped her jaw with both hands. “Now, where were we?”

  “Right here.” She wrapped her arms around him, and he nuzzled the swanlike curve of her neck. She bent back her head, allowing him to press open-mouthed kisses along her throat.

  He wanted to love her with a slow hand, to make things last all night long, but the fire in his blood burned out of control, leaving him with a desperate need only she could sate.

  “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he asked, his voice husky with desire.

  “I think so.” Her eyes lowered.

  In shyness?

  She lifted the hem of her sweatshirt over her head, revealing the black top of her bikini. Her slow but steady movements to take off her shirt mesmerized him.

  After dropping it to the floor, she tugged at the black strings. Ever so slowly, she taunted him—although he suspected it wasn’t on purpose—by peeling away the black satiny material of her swimsuit and unleashing two perfect breasts with taut dusky nipples hardened by her arousal.

  Next came the shorts. As she slid the panty portion of her bikini over her hips and down her legs, he sucked in a breath, nearly choking on the honesty of his sentiment. “You’re beautiful, Caitlin. And I feel as though I’ve been offered a special gift.”

  “Thank you. I feel that I’ve been given something, too.”

  Not of equal value, he realized. She deserved better than him. But he didn’t let that stop him from shedding his shirt and slipping out of his trunks.

  When they were both naked, he drew her into his arms. Her full breasts splayed against his chest, as their hands explored each other, caressing, taunting. But he couldn’t get enough, not even when she melded against him.

  For as long as he could, he fought the desire to lay her down, to make love to her like she wanted him to.

  Like he wanted to.

  But if he didn’t plunge into her sweetness soon, he’d die from want of her.

  He stepped toward the bed, taking her with him. And as they tumbled onto the comforter, he grappled for the condom. When he’d torn into the packet and protected them both, he gave her a lingering kiss that promised sexual pleasure yet to come. Then he loved her with his hands and his mouth until passion overcame them both.

  As he hovered over her, she opened for him and placed her hands on his hips, as though guiding him home—where he belonged.

  He entered her almost desperately, and she arched up to meet his thrusts, taking and giving until their passion peaked. He would have held back, prolonging the excitement, but he was lost in lust and passion, lost in her sweet embrace.

  Their breathing, ragged and hot, played upon his senses, fanning his desire.

  They balanced at the peak of a shaky precipice, barely hanging on.

  “Let it go, honey,” he whispered. “Don’t hold back.” Then he thrust deep.

  Her breath caught, her fingernails clutched at his back and she cried out her pleasure as a powerful, breath-defying climax overtook them both, shoving them over the edge of control.

  When the last orgasmic wave had passed, he didn’t let go of her, didn’t roll away. Didn’t find an excuse to leave.

  He couldn’t seem to gather the energy.

  Later—he had no idea how long—he lay in Caitlin’s bed, with her head resting on his shoulder, his heart pounding from more than exertion. He knew he held more woman than he’d ever held before.

  When he’d filled her womb to the hilt, he could feel his release to the depths of his heart.

  To his heart?

  Oh, no. Not that deep.

  She’d merely touched his passion, his desire. His libido. It couldn’t possibly be more than that. He might love the way it felt to thrust deep inside of her, love to hear her breathy whimpers, to see desire and fulfillment glaze her eyes as she climaxed in his arms.

  But love her?

  No way. He couldn’t let that happen.

  Brett couldn’t give Caitlin or Emily what they deserved. How could he when he couldn’t do the same for Justin?

  As dawn crept through the slats of the miniblinds, Caitlin lay nestled in Brett’s arms, amazed at the depth of her love for the man in her bed.

  They shared a pillow now, but last night, they’d shared so much more. Hungry kisses. Breath-catching sexual peaks. Mind-spinning releases. But their joining had been more than jus
t sex—so much more, that her heart had reached the bursting point.

  Brett’s slow and steady breathing lulled her, and the arm he’d draped around her breasts held her close.

  She’d had reservations about getting involved with him at a time like this.

  But not anymore. And she suspected he’d changed his mind, too. He sure hadn’t made any excuses to leave her bed, other than to go into the bathroom and dig through the drawer to find another condom. As it was, they’d gone through three—all she’d been able to find when she’d hurriedly dug through the drawer.

  As she savored the scent of their lovemaking, the warmth of his embrace, the intensity of all they’d experienced, she struggled with being a good hostess. For some reason, she thought about getting up and fixing a pot of coffee, something she always did immediately upon rising. And in the fridge, she had fresh orange juice. Maybe she ought to pour two glasses and bring them back to bed.

  But she wasn’t ready to leave the warmth and comfort of his arms, where the memory of their sweet, all-night sex marathon lingered. He’d been an incredible lover, making her think it was she who’d created the magic and set off fireworks during their lovemaking. And after a while, she nearly believed it.

  She’d actually made noises and cried out while climaxing. Imagine that.

  Of course, she was no expert when it came to sex. Before last night, she could count the number of times she’d made love on one hand, with fingers to spare.

  Her only other experience had been nice, after that awkward first time. But it hadn’t been anything like this. What a difference being in love made.

  Last night, in Brett’s capable arms, she’d learned a lot of things about her body that she hadn’t known before. And together, they’d touched the stars.

  Brett nuzzled her head and placed a kiss on her temple, letting her know he was stirring.

  “Good morning,” she whispered. “Do you want me to put on some coffee and fix breakfast?”

  He stroked the curve of her hip. “I don’t eat in the morning. But coffee sounds good. Then I’d better cut out before Emily wakes up and finds me here.”

  “All right.” As much as Caitlin hated to see him leave, she appreciated his thoughtfulness, since they were treading on uncharted ground, especially with the custody case hanging over her head.

  Maybe, on Monday morning, she ought to call her attorney and get some advice about how to handle this change in her life. She didn’t want a lover to jeopardize her position.

  Or would it strengthen her case by offering a father figure to Emily?

  As she climbed from bed, Brett ran a hand along her derriere. She glanced over her shoulder and flashed him a playful smile. “Don’t tempt me, or we’ll spend too much time in here and get caught.”

  “We’re out of protection.”

  “Until I make a more thorough search of that drawer, or one of us goes to the pharmacy.” She grabbed her robe from the closet. “If you’d like to take a shower, there are towels in the bathroom cupboard.”

  “I’ll shower at home.”

  She nodded, then headed for the door. “The coffee will be ready in a couple of minutes.”

  “I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

  Moments later, they sat at the small breakfast table, listening to the coffee drip into the glass carafe.

  “Any regrets?” he asked. “You thought there might be some in the morning.”

  “No. What about you?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess it depends.”

  “On what?”

  “On where we go from here.” He placed his forearms on the table, his hands half-clasped in front of him.

  Where did he want things to go? His expression was difficult to read.

  “Last night made things a bit complicated,” she admitted.

  “I know.”

  Did he? Had Gerald or Mary told him about Zack, about the custody fight?

  She wasn’t sure, but she decided it was best to lay her cards on the table. “I’d like to talk to my attorney before we get any more involved.”

  “Your attorney?” He pulled his hands from the table and straightened, his eyes widening as though she’d snuck up on him and jabbed him with a syringe. “What do you mean?”

  “Emily’s father wants custody of her, and he’s taking me to court.”

  With his brow furrowed, his mouth tensed, he leaned back in his chair, pulling away. Distancing himself? “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “I wish I were.” She got up from her seat and poured them each a cup of coffee. She handed him one, then sweetened hers with a spoonful of sugar and added a bit of milk.

  He gripped his cup with both hands, but didn’t take a drink. “The guy has been missing in action for four years. Why does he want custody now?”

  “He’s been in prison, but he’s going to be paroled soon.”

  “Her father’s in prison?” The tension in his face suggested she should have explained some of this to him earlier, even though neither of them had expected to become intimate. “What did he do?”

  “He was arrested for his involvement in an armed robbery at a convenience store. One of his friends, Ray Montalvo, shot the owner in the back, leaving the man paralyzed. And Zack, Emily’s dad, testified against Ray and received a plea bargain.”

  “Are you talking about Zack Henderson?”

  “Yes.” She took a sip of coffee, trying to savor the familiar morning taste, needing a jolt of caffeine, but getting little satisfaction. “Do you know him?”

  “Not personally. But I remember hearing about the case. Harry had tried to reach out to him before he was arrested, but obviously those efforts failed.”

  She didn’t doubt the Bayside criminal justice system had incarcerated more than a few delinquents who’d turned a deaf ear to Harry and fell through the treacherous cracks. And Zack was obviously one of them.

  Brett still held his cup below mouth level. “Maybe Harry could talk to Zack and get him to agree to liberal visitation, instead of custody.”

  “No.” Caitlin stiffened, her heart pounding out an objection that throbbed in her ears. “I’m not going to give up my daughter, not even for an occasional visit with that man. Zack is a convicted felon, a criminal. And I’ll fight him with everything I’ve got, every penny, every breath.”

  “I can understand how you feel, Caitlin, but the man is still her father. For Emily’s sake, you need to try and work out something amiable. Shared custody, maybe.”

  “No.” She rubbed her hands along her arms, wondering when the chill in the room had kicked up.

  He reached across the table and took her hand, his thumb slowly stroking her skin. “Caitlin, I realize you’re in a precarious situation. But I don’t think going to court is the right way to handle this.”

  She opened her mouth to object, to cry out a list of reasons why Zack Henderson should never be involved in Emily’s life. But she held her tongue. What was there to say? Brett had told her about his early years, about the custody battles his parents had waged. It was clear he wouldn’t support her in this fight. And the discussion was over, as far as she was concerned.

  She and Brett may have had something special last night, but whatever it was had faded with the dawn. With reality.

  Brett’s lack of support and understanding disappointed her, of course. But he hadn’t really let her down. After all, she’d never had anyone in her corner before, never had anyone she could depend upon, other than the Blackstones and the attorney she’d retained.

  So what if Brett wasn’t up for the fight?

  That was okay. She’d just have to battle the system alone. But wasn’t that what she’d expected to do all along?

  To go it alone?

  She’d faced pain and heartbreak before. And this was no different. She was a survivor—strong and self-reliant.

  But this time around, she was facing the biggest battle of her life. And her vulnerability was more than unsettling.

>   It scared her to death.

  But she wouldn’t back down, wouldn’t compromise. Not when Emily’s life and welfare hung in the balance. And apparently, that was something the man she’d come to love would never understand.

  Brett gave Caitlin’s hand a gentle squeeze, but her fingers remained stiff, unresponsive.

  He knew she was in a tough position, and he wanted to support her. “I don’t want to see Emily uprooted from the only home she’s ever had. Nor do I like the idea of an ex-con taking part in her upbringing.”

  Caitlin, her eyes fixed on the table, fingered the handle on her coffee cup. “I understand.”

  Did she?

  Hell, he still wasn’t sure if he did. All he knew was that he couldn’t allow himself to get sucked into a mess—financially or otherwise—that would only bring misery to the child he’d grown to care about, not to mention stir up memories he’d like to forget.

  Besides, his presence in the courtroom would serve no purpose. Hadn’t his parents’ situation blown sky-high when his mom brought a stepfather on the scene? What would a boyfriend do to the mix?

  “I wish I could support you in this, but I don’t believe adults should fight over their kids. I’m a father who hasn’t seen his son in five years. And I know there are a lot of reasons why a man might stay out of touch and change his mind later.” He gave her hand another gentle squeeze, and when she lifted her eyes and caught his gaze, he opened up, sharing his heart, his pain, his sacrifice. “My son’s name is Justin, and I’d do anything for him. I think about him every day of my life, not just when the monthly child support allotment comes out of my paycheck.”

  “Why don’t you see him?” she asked.

  For a ton of reasons. His job with the Navy, for one. The fact the kid didn’t even know him for another. And because Brett couldn’t offer the boy the things David and Kelly could offer him. And to be honest, deep down, he was afraid his own unstable childhood had left him lacking in the family and daddy department.

  “I’m not happy about the situation,” Brett clarified. “But he was just a baby when his mother and I split up, and I was on active duty. I couldn’t very well share custody with his mother.”