He reached for her hand and gently rolled the berries into her palm, frowning when he saw the tight bandage covering it. She took one raspberry and lifted it to his lips before taking one for herself, repeating the gesture until they were all gone. It was all done without a word, without a touch, but it was one of the most intimate things he had ever shared with anyone.
“I miss them so much,” she said finally, looking out the window once again.
Ian knew how it felt to lose his mother at an early age, but he’d always had his father and brothers around him. He couldn’t imagine what it would have been like without them. Wishing he had words that could help, but knowing he didn’t, he gently put his arms around her.
Thankfully, she didn’t resist. She curled into him like a kitten against his chest. He closed his eyes, letting the warmth of her body soak into him. A sense of peace, of rightness settled over him as he rested his chin on the top of her head and breathed in that familiar orange and honey scent.
“Why did you come here, Ian?” she asked several minutes later, breaking the silence.
“I was worried about you,” he answered honestly, though there was so much more to it than that.
“Why?”
He’d been wondering the same thing himself, and he wasn’t sure she wanted to hear his theories, especially after his earlier vision still had him a bit shaken. “You shouldn’t be out here all alone,” he said finally. It was the truth. Sort of.
“I’m used to being alone, Ian,” she said against his collarbone, sounding weary. There was no anger, no malice in her words, just simple truth.
“Not anymore,” he answered.
* * *
It felt so good to be in his arms, she could almost believe him. Almost. She’d dreamed of hearing him say things like that for years. But she knew he was talking about right now, and in her dreams, he’d been talking about forever.
That was the great thing about dreams. They were yours and no one else’s, custom-fitted to what you wanted most.
Dare she hope? No. She might be tired, but she wasn’t a fool. There were a million reasons why she could never have the kind of relationship she wanted with Ian; wishing for the impossible held nothing but the promise of heartbreak.
As if her heart wasn’t already broken.
She briefly considered bringing up Kayla again. That would definitely put a damper on things, but she really didn’t want to. It felt too good to be close to him like this to waste it on silly things like pride or a broken heart.
His hands caressed her arms so tenderly, his chest was so warm and solid against her back. His scent – clean and male and dark – filled her with a sense of completeness and made her feel safe. What was wrong with pretending for just a little while? To sit here in the dark, feeling the thrum of his heart. To live her dream for just a few minutes more.
“Tell me about them.” His voice, low and hypnotic, vibrated against her.
Lexi wasn’t a woman who liked to talk about herself, but she was suddenly sharing childhood memories with him. It felt so natural to do so. She told Ian things she’d never even told Kieran or Aidan. Being here, in this house, brought back so many memories that she had long since forgotten.
“I’m sorry,” she said apologetically as she realized that she’d been going on for a long time. “I don’t know what came over me.” She sniffed and started to pull away. “Bet you’re sorry you asked, huh?”
“On the contrary,” he said, keeping his arms loose but refusing to let her go, “I can’t remember when I’ve enjoyed an evening quite so much.” His eyes glittered. “With the possible exception of our dinner together, that is.”
Lexi blushed. It wasn’t the dinner he had enjoyed so much. But she couldn’t blame him for that. She’d be a hypocrite of the highest order if she did.
“But I think we should get you back to your hotel,” he said. “You can’t sleep here. It’ll be dawn soon, and you need some rest.”
Lexi sighed and nodded. He was right. She’d talked for hours, reliving her past. Now she felt drained.
Ian helped her blow out the candles and lock up, walking her out to his truck. Much to her surprise and pleasure, he held her hand the entire time, almost as if he was afraid to let go.
“Are you going to tell me about this?” Ian asked, tapping her wrapped hand lightly.
Lexi hesitated only a second or two before answering. “Nothing to tell. I got distracted while slicing and cut myself. You’d think a chef would know better, huh.”
* * *
It wasn’t the whole story, he was certain of it, but she was already pulling away from him, and he wouldn’t allow that to happen again. He’d find out the truth soon enough. Kieran was not as invincible as he pretended to be. In the meantime, Lexi was well enough, and more importantly, with him. He was not going to screw that up by pushing her unnecessarily.
“No more sneaking out?” he asked as he took her key and inserted it into the hotel room door.
She stiffened. “I wasn’t sneaking,” she said defensively.
“You didn’t tell Kieran what you were going to do.”
“Was I supposed to?”
Ian chuckled. “You know he would never have let you go over there by yourself.”
“First of all, Kieran left before I even decided to go. Secondly, I don’t need his permission. I am a grown woman. And I told you, I’m used to being alone.”
“And I told you,” he said authoritatively, stepping into her room behind her and sliding the deadbolt lock in place. “You’re not alone anymore.”
Golden-amber eyes flashed up at him. Dare he hope that he wasn’t imagining the desire in those depths?
Her tongue peeked out as she licked along those perfect pink lips. “Does that mean you want to stay?”
“I’m not leaving.” It was a statement, spoken without arrogance, but daring her to contradict him. For the first time in his life, he felt connected to a woman – really connected. The things she’d shared with him, whether she’d known it or not, had captured his heart. He’d felt her pouring into him, lighting him from the inside out with her trust. He didn’t want that closeness to end. It couldn’t. Not yet.
Her eyes widened just a little as he took off his shoes. Then they widened a little more as he began to remove his shirt, his pants. They were like saucers by the time he slid beneath the cool sheets of her bed, naked.
“Come on,” he said, patting the bed beside him. “Or are you going to make me get out of bed and undress you myself?”
She bit her bottom lip, shifting her weight ever so slightly as she considered her options. He could have told her not to bother. Self-denial was no match for the hunger, the want he saw in her eyes. But perhaps a little assurance might help her come to terms with it.
“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to,” he said quietly. “But I need to feel your body against mine. Just for a little while. Please, Lexi.”
It wasn’t a lie. He needed the contact so badly it bordered on pain. He wasn’t quite sure what he would do if she refused; he wouldn’t let himself even think about that.
Thankfully, she didn’t. His eyes burned with intensity as she removed her clothing piece by piece. He held up the covers for her as she slid in beside him. He sighed in relief as she slipped into his arms and the ache was replaced by her soft, silken warmth.
“You never answered my question,” he said softly, wishing he could capture the feel of her against him and hold onto it forever.
“What question?” she asked, her breath feathering across his neck as her hair cascaded over his arm.
“Did the reality come close to the fantasy?”
Ian felt her entire body tense, heard the sharp intake of breath. He flexed his arm and pulled her closer, just in case she had any misconceptions that he might allow her to pull away from him. Within moments, though, her body relaxed, and a stream of air brushed along his skin as she exhaled.
“No,” she said honestly, but so
quietly even his acute hearing could barely pick it up. His heart stopped, pausing for a second as the pressure built in his chest. “It didn’t. The reality was infinitely better than anything I could have dreamed up.”
The floodgates opened in his soul and everything poured out in a rush, only to be filled again with her light and warmth. Along with the blinding truth he must have been an idiot not to see before.
Everything in him stilled. No. It wasn’t possible. He couldn’t have been her first. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized it probably was. With startling clarity he recalled her impossible tightness, the sound of her cries and the feel of her nails digging into his back when he first penetrated her.
He should have heeded his first instincts. On the bus it had taken him all of about two seconds to form the opinion that she was a virgin, or at least someone of extremely limited experience. But then, in her hotel room, that theory was blown right out of the water when she put her hand on him so boldly. No innocent, he reasoned, could have held such complete power of him from such a simple caress.
“Why didn’t you tell me, Lexi?” he asked, stroking her back, once he was able to speak again. “Why didn’t you tell me you were a virgin?”
“I wasn’t.”
It didn’t feel like a total lie, but it wasn’t quite the truth, either. It took him a few moments to put the pieces together. No, maybe she hadn’t been a virgin in the true sense of the word. But she was innocent. He closed his eyes, sure that he was right. He didn’t know the details, wasn’t sure he even wanted to. But he knew with every fiber of his being that he was the first – the only – man she’d ever been intimate with.
“I was your first, wasn’t I?”
She tensed again and tried to pull away, but Ian held her tight.
“Was it that obvious? Was I that awful?”
Ian slipped a finger under her chin and lifted her face to look at him, not sure whether he wanted to crush her in his arms or throttle her for even thinking such a thing. He swore that if he wasn’t already head over heels in love with her he would have been in that moment. Her eyes were big, so filled with worry and uncertainty that it blew him away. How could she ever believe that, even for a moment?
“No,” he said gently. “You were that good. I’ve never felt anything like it, never.” And that was the God’s honest truth. He’d never had anyone respond to him with such pure, honest emotion. Innocent, yet wanting. “But I wish you would have told me. I would have been gentler. I know I must have hurt you.”
The thought that he had hurt her cut ribbons through his gut. He pictured the marks he’d left on her body and felt a fresh wave of guilty pain.
“You didn’t hurt me.”
“Liar,” he chastised, kissing her forehead.
“Okay, maybe it hurt a little,” she admitted, drawing small circles on his chest with her fingers. “But I was afraid if I told you, you’d stop.”
He almost snorted. She believed he could have stopped? Obviously she had more faith in his self-control than he did. Well, he probably could have stopped, but it would have killed him. Or caused permanent damage in the very least. He told her as much.
“I’m sorry, Ian,” she said, and he wished she would stop apologizing. “Are you upset with me?”
She had to stop looking at him with those big doe eyes or he was going to kiss her until she lost consciousness. Then again, he might just do that anyway, but he needed to taste her. Soon.
Could he ever be upset with her when she looked at him like that? No, not seriously, but Ian was not a fool. The slightly wicked part of him pointed out the glaring possibilities that the right response might elicit.
“A little,” he fibbed, wishing his voice wasn’t quite so husky. Then he felt her melt into him, and almost felt bad for misleading her. Yes, he was upset, but only because he couldn’t bear the thought of hurting her. But he knew that’s not how she understood it.
“Can I make it up to you?” she asked, her voice far too seductive to belong to a woman who had been innocent only a few days ago. Either she was a really fast learner or he brought it out in her. He preferred to think it was the latter.
Ian appeared to consider her question, but he already had a plan in mind. She would regret leaving him alone in her room while she took that extended shower yesterday. He had made good use of the time.
Chapter Fifteen
“Read to me,” he said, surprising her. Lexi’s head lifted from his shoulder. He fought to hold in a grin as he handed her the Salienne Dulcette novel from the nightstand. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“Start on page 129, if you don’t mind,” he said.
For a moment he wasn’t sure she’d comply, but he saw the instant her eyes changed from surprised to excited and aroused. Ian pulled her onto him, letting the proof of his own desire press into her lower belly. Her weight felt good, comforting. As long as she was touching him, he could control himself. If she pulled away, all bets were off.
She opened the book against his chest, and looked at him questioningly.
“Go on,” he encouraged, his hands strategically placed along her well-rounded hips. She took a deep breath – he loved the way her breasts pressed into him as she did – and began to read.
He was easily the biggest man she had ever seen, sinfully adorned with smooth bronze flesh and rippling layers of muscle, one atop the other until it formed a relief that would take hours, days, years to learn intimately. She trembled at the sight of him, at the hungry look in his eyes, as she sat on the bed in her prim little white nightgown.
“On your knees,” he growled, removing his belt with one fluid, erotic movement. The leather snapped in the air, making her flinch, but he didn’t mistake the look in her eyes for fear. It was arousal, pure and potent.
When she made no move to obey, he grabbed her, flipping her onto her stomach. With one hand spanning her back he held her down easily, even as she wriggled against him. His other hand slipped beneath the hem of her gown, his hands rough and calloused, rasping along the back of her thighs, sending bolts of pleasure right into her core. Despite herself, she cried out.
The panties she wore were torn viciously from her with no regard for their worth, only the barest brush of his fingers against her swollen sex when she craved so much more. He smirked as he raised his hand and landed heavy, the resounding crack loud in the quiet room. But his smirk vanished and his eyes darkened when he beheld the rush of wetness his little caress had running down her thighs. It was supposed to be a night of seductive torture as he readied her for him, but he soon realized that he was the one in danger of being tortured.
“Lift your ass to me,” he growled, harsher and huskier than before as his cock strained against the limits of his jeans.
“No.”
The simple denial, spoken with obvious effort, had the first droplets of come pearling along his swollen head. She was going to be the death of him, surely.
“I said, lift your ass to me.”
A shiver ran the length of her spine before she once again answered, “No.”
Holding her upper back firmly against the mattress, his other arm snaked beneath her hips and pulled roughly upward. Before she could react, he dove between her legs, pulling her over him to straddle his face. Every effort against him was futile; he held her locked in place, his arms as strong as his resolve.
She tried to withhold her cries, but it was impossible with his wicked mouth, tongue and teeth on her. He devoured her as if he was a starving man and she was a king’s banquet. Long slow licks, teasing nips; he sucked her between his lips and then dipped his tongue into her hot entrance. He moaned, loudly, as if in great pain as she spilled even more for him.
“Son of a bitch,” he muttered as the pressure built within her. He could feel it, sense it, and it angered him. It was too fast, too easy. She could not climax yet; he would not allow it. He had clearly underestimated her need for him; she’d hidden it well.
But th
ere was no hiding from him now, not when the truth was there in his mouth, on his tongue. He continued to hold her with one iron hand, as he released himself and worked his jeans below his hips. Damn her. She was making him burn hotter than the sun.
When she began to clench around him he withdrew. A string of foul oaths spewed from her lips, so bold and explicit he could not believe they had come from her sweet little mouth. He would have laughed had it not been for the pain nearly ripping him apart. To think that he could bring her down to such a primitive, visceral level had him nearly drunk with the power of it. Within seconds he held his overly engorged shaft at her entrance, hating himself for being so weak.
With one tremendous thrust he impaled her, making her scream so loudly the windows rattled. It was sheer ecstasy, pure and simple. He’d never felt anything like it. For a moment he just held himself inside her, certain that he had just died and had gone to heaven. But after the initial shock, she began to clench around him, a wave of ripples up and down his cock, demanding his undivided attention.
He pulled out and thrust into her again, so hard and deep that his balls slapped against her, his grip on her hips unbreakable. She wasn’t fighting him anymore. She was crying, pleading, begging him to take her harder, faster, to ease her pain. Sweat poured down his back as he lost himself in her, gave her everything, withheld nothing. The bed’s headboard banged against the wall with the force of his thrusts, yet she begged for more until she tightened around him, strangling his cock tighter than any fist.
She began to come, squeezing him so hard he saw stars. He pulled out and shoved himself into her again, finally releasing the last thread of control he held as he began to empty inside her. He penetrated her over and over again, each stroke milking more seed from him until black rimmed the edges of his sight, and still he came. Come filled her, dripped from her, coated her already slick folds, coating him as well. He rolled his hips with the final jet of seed, losing himself to the blackness as he gathered her seizing body in his arms...
* * *
First and Only: Callaghan Brothers, Book 2 Page 12