Oh, but the man’s kisses were devastating. How could she have forgotten the way his lips took control of her senses? How his mouth could tantalize and please, coax and seduce her? Her brain may have tried to banish the memory, but his kiss woke sensations her body remembered with startling clarity. Every cell was alive and alert, clamoring for his touch.
Cal skimmed one hand over her hip, strummed the ridge of her spine then dragged his fingertips down her back. His caress elicited tingling sparks that sizzled through her blood.
He moved his kiss south, his tongue tracing the curve of her neck, sipping the water droplets collected on her skin. As he had with their wedding, he left no detail unattended. His thoughtful attention to little things had benefits beyond the everyday, she discovered as he feathered shivery kisses along her collarbone.
She arched her back, offering her breasts for his questing lips. The warm spray of the shower rained down on her when he dipped his head to draw a nipple into his mouth. The water streams teased the tight peak of one breast while his tongue flicked the other. Heat coiled low in her belly, pulsed through her in throbbing beats.
Libby wound her fingers in his thick, wet hair, reveling in the sweet torture of his mouth suckling her breast. Cal was the only man she’d ever trusted enough to allow such intimacies. He was the only man who’d ever gotten close enough to touch her soul. The only man who could seduce her with a look, drive her wild with his kiss, send her body skyrocketing with his touch.
Cal nudged her leg with his hand, and she opened to him. He slid his palm down, nestled against her heat.
She couldn’t breathe. Could only gasp when his fingers moved. He began with a sultry stroking, testing before probing inside her. Her body gripped him, and a fresh spasm of pleasure pushed her toward the edge of control.
“Cal!” she cried, and he abandoned her breast, brought her upright so he could claim her lips again. The water began to grow cooler as it rained down on them, yet her body burned. He kissed her with the same desperation that clawed inside her. Feverish. Impatient. Long overdue.
She raised her leg, hooking it around him. She wanted him nearer, wanted to climb inside him. Her hands roamed restlessly from his shoulders to his buttocks, memorizing every ridge of sinew and rock-hard plane.
His breathing, like hers, was ragged and shallow, and she could feel the thundering of his heart beneath her palm.
Moving his hands behind her thighs, Cal lifted her. He turned to pin her between his body and the shower wall. With a groan, he burrowed himself in the V of her legs, stroking the sensitive flesh there until she was ready to fly apart.
“More,” she gasped, rocking her hips forward, straining toward him and the fulfillment her body craved.
Again he insinuated a hand between her legs, from behind this time. His fingers worked their magic, knowing just where to stroke, exactly how to bring her to the edge of sanity and keep her teetering there for what felt like eons.
Then, like a lightning strike, she shattered.
She bit down on his shoulder, a half moan, half scream tearing from her throat as she careened into her climax. She gripped him tighter with her legs, holding on for dear life while shuddering contractions rippled through her, pounding her with mind-numbing bliss.
As her last tremors faded, Cal smacked the water off and shouldered the shower door open. His wet feet slapped the bathroom floor as he carried her into the bedroom with long, hurried strides.
He followed her down onto the unmade bed, covering her, kissing her.
“Don’t move,” he murmured between kisses.
When he levered away from her, cold air nipped her wet skin. She shivered, missing the heat and weight of him on top of her.
“C’mon,” he grumbled as he wrestled his wallet from his jeans pocket and removed a foil packet.
A condom. Of course Cal would think of protection, even when her own mind was hazed with desire. His dedication to protecting her made warmth swell in her chest.
Then he was back. Surrounding her with his heat. Filling her. Driving her back to the brink of ecstasy with the slow glide of his body inside hers.
This was what she’d missed. For five years. The sweet feeling of holding Cal while he was buried deep inside her. The sensation of their two bodies joined as one. The fusion of flesh. The union of souls. The completion of mind and body.
No wonder she’d hurt so badly when he’d left. He was a part of what made her whole.
She moved with him in the timeless dance of lovers. His body trembled with restraint, and his muscles knotted as he moved.
With her hands on his hips, she urged him on, encouraged a faster pace as tension swirled and collected inside her.
“I want—” she whispered, breathless. “Now…together.”
“Libby…” Her name was a groan, a prayer, a release.
She held him, clung, as they were swept into the maelstrom. She couldn’t separate his shudders from her own, carried higher by the power of going together. As one.
He collapsed on her, wrapping her in his arms and holding her close. He pressed tender kisses on her brow while she gathered her breath. The peace and security of lying in Cal’s arms settled into her marrow. With Cal, she could let go, lose control and feel completely safe.
Chapter 14
He was in terrible danger.
Cal shifted his weight off Libby and rolled to his side, bringing her with him, keeping her soft body pressed close to his. When she snuggled under his arm and let her hand rest over his heart, he sighed his contentment.
Oh, yeah. Big danger.
Making love to Libby, being inside her, surrounded by her, in sync with her, had felt so unbelievably good, he’d let himself believe they could build a future together.
Too many old hurts and unresolved issues still lay between them to get his hopes up yet. They’d only begun to connect again. They’d barely scratched the surface of the history they needed to dig through before they could rightfully expect to move forward. And this time, he intended to get things right with Libby.
Hot, even-better-than-he’d-remembered sex was a step in the right direction, for sure. He’d rather kiss Libby than argue with her any day of the week. But they’d had great sex before. The problem was, so much had gone unsaid years ago that his leaving had caused deep scars, wounds that still needed to heal.
“Wow,” she whispered and heaved a deep, happy-sounding sigh.
A smile tugged his lips. “You can say that again.”
Cal ran his fingers through her damp hair and watched the strands fall back to her shoulder. Something had changed for her while he’d been at the fire scene, something that brought down her walls of resistance. He was almost afraid to ask her about it, afraid he’d break the spell or wake himself from an incredibly erotic dream.
Libby lifted her head and squinted at the bedside clock. With a disgruntled groan, she settled back down. “I’m due at the office in just over an hour.”
“Call in sick.”
She thumped his chest lightly. “I can’t do that! I have things on my desk that need my attention.”
“You have a husband in your bed who needs your attention,” he murmured while insinuating a hand between her legs.
Her breath hitched. Her eyes widened. And in one fluid motion, he rolled her back onto her pillow and caught her lips.
A protest rumbled in her throat, and she pushed against his chest in an unconvincing show of resistance. Soon the rumble melted into a purr, a moan, and her hands slid around his neck and pulled him closer.
He lost track of time as one sizzling kiss led to another. His hands explored her silky skin, relearning every dip and swell of her womanly form. Her nipples budded for him, and he savored each sweet peak, rolling it with his tongue, tugging with his lips. She arched her back and mewled her approval, and her response spun liquid fire to his groin. Hating every second away from her, he sheathed himself with his last condom. Then, gathering her near, he pressed home.
The grip and heat of her body engulfed him, sent him soaring for the stratosphere. But he gritted his teeth and held himself back.
Her legs circled his hips, and she strained to get closer, to draw him deeper.
He kissed her forehead, and she angled her eyes to meet his.
“Easy, Lib. I’m not going anywhere without you.”
She smiled, and something sweeter than passion, deeper than desire, lit her eyes. His heart somersaulted.
From now on, he wanted Libby right beside him. He wanted the future that they’d had to put on hold before. And it started in this moment, while he was buried inside her, his gaze locked on the mahogany depths of her eyes.
Her fingers dug into his back, and he felt the first pulses of her climax milking him. With a roar, he joined her. The heat that flashed through him burned hotter than the wildfire he’d fought hours ago. It had always been that way with Libby. More fire, more intensity, more emotion than he’d ever known. And still he wanted…more.
He wanted her faith. Her trust. Her love.
As he lay beside her, his body still quaking with the aftershocks of their lovemaking, he knew he had to take the first step. He’d been the one to break off their relationship the first time. He’d been the one who’d filled her gaze with doubt and resentment. The one who’d called his character into question when he’d lost control, unleashed his anger on an easy target and landed himself in prison.
He held her tightly and allowed the memories and regrets to invade his bliss. Restitution for the pain he’d caused her, the debt he owed. There was no easy segue from passion to penance, but he had to try. A cold twist of regret tightened his gut.
“Have I said I’m sorry yet for the pain I put you through when I married Renee?”
She stiffened in his arms, and he squeezed her arms, drew her closer.
“Not now, Cal. This isn’t the time to—”
“It is time. And it’s overdue.” He kissed the top of her head and wound his fingers through the hair at her nape. “I wish I could take away the hurt I caused you. God knows, I was hurting, too.” An echo of that old pain rolled through him, and he sighed. “I should have married you back then, tried harder to find a way to be there for Ally and Renee without losing you in the process. You had every right to resent me.”
Tilting her head back, she snapped her gaze up to his, and her eyes danced and sparked.
“I saw it. When the judge ruled on my plea agreement. You looked across the courtroom, and I saw pain and resentment in your eyes. That dark look was more devastating than if I’d been sentenced to life in prison. I knew I’d lost you. Your love.”
“Oh, Cal.” Her brow pinched, and her fingers curled against his chest, clutching. “I was so worried about you going to prison. I’d heard terrible things about conditions for inmates.”
He clenched his teeth, fighting to block the flood of memories, his personal horror stories of life behind bars.
Shadows shifted in her gaze. “I wanted to do something to help you, but I couldn’t. It could have cost me my job. I knew Stan was bent on making a point with your conviction, drawing a definitive line between defense and assault for future cases.”
Cal’s mind reeled with what he was learning. Was it possible she’d never lost faith in him at all? That he’d been the one whose distrust had been unearned?
“Stan may have been tough, but the fact was you crossed the line from defender to aggressor. You broke the law.” Conviction and determination molded her features, set her mouth in a firm line. “And the law said you had to pay for your actions.”
He grunted his disagreement then narrowed a querying gaze on her. “How’d you convince the D.A. to let you take David Ralston’s case?”
She grimaced and sighed. “It wasn’t easy. Nothing about that case was simple. I fought tooth and nail, but Ralston’s lawyer always seemed a step ahead of me. In the end, the jury found him guilty but let him off with only a slap on the wrist.”
Cal fisted his hands as the injustice raged through him. “Free to beat the next unsuspecting woman to cross his path.”
Libby flopped back on her pillow and stared up at the ceiling. “Probably. The guy had a juvenile record as long as my arm that I couldn’t, by law, introduce. I had testimony from friends of his ex-girlfriends that showed a pattern of violence. But it was all hearsay. None of the girlfriends would say anything about his mistreatment of them. Meanwhile, his attorney paraded professors from Louisiana Tech who extolled his abilities and his intellect. His co-workers all said he was a hard worker, an affable guy. His boss bragged on his skill and reliability.”
An uneasy prickle scraped the back of Cal’s neck. Something Libby had said set off alarms in his mind, but he couldn’t pin his odd intuition down. “Skills. In what?”
She furrowed her brow and pinched the bridge of her nose as she thought. “I don’t remember exactly what he did, where he worked, but he had an engineering degree from Tech. Top of his class. Seems like he built things or fixed industrial machines or something highly technical. A real brain.”
Cal grunted. “Yeah, well, my stepdad was a cardiac surgeon. Didn’t stop him from being a loser in his private life.”
She rolled to her side, her eyes darkly intense. “I didn’t realize your mother remarried after your dad died.”
“It didn’t last long. Thank God. Just long enough for—” He stopped as a wave of nausea gripped him.
“Cal?” She perched over him now, lines of pain and worry framing her incisive gaze. “What happened?”
He struggled for a breath, memories crashing down on him. He wanted to lock the ghosts from his past away again, but they clamored for attention, haunting him.
Besides, he owed Libby an explanation. He wanted no more secrets, no more misunderstandings. He looked deep into her dark eyes and found the strength to speak the words that left a foul taste in his mouth. “He hit my mother. He battered her.”
Libby paled, grew still. “Oh, Cal…I never knew.”
He swiped a hand over his chin, restless now as the images from his adolescence pounded him. He swung his legs out from under the sheets and rose to stalk the room. “Because I never told anyone.”
Cal shuddered recalling images in black and blue. The scar on his chin seemed to burn, taunting him. “He always waited until I wasn’t home. So I couldn’t stop him. I wanted to kill him when I found out the truth. That mom’s injuries weren’t accidents.” Guilt slithered through him, clammy and cold. He clenched his teeth, forcing oxygen past the knot of fury and self-censure.
He should have realized what was happening sooner. Should have stopped the man who was hurting his mom.
Libby wrapped the sheet around her and sat up. He had her undivided attention, a silent show of support and encouragement.
“When I finally did put it all together, I went out looking for him. At his office. My mom begged me not to go, pleaded with me.” He stopped pacing long enough to meet Libby’s gaze. “See…she was afraid for me. Afraid of what my stepdad could do to me.” The sick irony of his past taunted him. “At the time, he outweighed me by eighty or so pounds and had several inches on me in height. I was just fourteen. Skinny, all bony arms and legs. But he’d hurt my mom. And my dad had taught me to defend a woman, to protect my family. I couldn’t do nothing.”
Libby drew a shaky breath. “Go on.”
He gave her a short, bitter laugh. “Well, he broke two of my ribs, blackened both my eyes and put me in a coma for thirty-six hours.” He rubbed his scarred chin. “This was my souvenir.”
Libby’s hand flew to her mouth, and a fat tear slid down her cheek. Her haunted eyes reminded him so much of his mother’s the day he woke in the hospital and found her hovering by his bed.
“All I’d done was cause her more worry, more suffering. She left him after that, but not for herself. She left to protect me.” He scowled and gritted his teeth with frustration. “I hadn’t done a thing to help her. Even when I finally figured out
what was going on under my nose, I was completely useless to her. I’d failed her. I’d failed my father. I’ve never felt so…helpless, so frustrated, in my life. I couldn’t even defend my mother’s honor without nearly getting myself killed and hurting her even more.”
Libby climbed from the bed and crossed the floor to him. Nestling beside him, she stroked his cheek, and he turned his face into the comforting caress. Years-old pain and recriminations battered him and made his lungs feel stiff and heavy. The misery he’d known as a fourteen-year-old punk knifed through him again, and he bit down so hard his jaw ached. He settled a hand at her waist and drew her closer, resting his forehead on hers. He needed her near, needed to feel her in his arms. He absorbed her comfort and strength like a dry sponge.
Her thumb glided over the tensed muscles in his cheeks, and she pressed warm lips to his temple. “When you saw David Ralston beating a woman that night at the bar…”
His heartbeat slowed, burdened with guilt, waiting as she filled in the blank.
“You thought of your stepfather.”
A statement, not a question. A logical conclusion after what he’d confessed. He confirmed her assertion with silence. In the moment of silence, the niggling intuition, an incomplete thought like a name on the tip of his tongue, teased him again.
“David Ralston bore the brunt of your anger and frustration,” Libby said, redirecting his thoughts. “All the years you’d blamed yourself for not protecting your mom.”
He nodded then met her eyes, even though the raw emotion in her gaze cut him to the marrow. “Ralston was scum. But that didn’t justify what I did. I know that now.”
“At least I understand now how the man I knew and loved could have done something so…”
“Stupid.”
She winced. “No. Not stupid. Just…unfortunate. Ill-advised.” She cupped his cheeks between her hands, her gentle expression softening the sting of her words. “Even though you carried it too far, you had good intentions, understandable motivation.” She shook her head, consternation puckering her brow. “But that doesn’t make it right.”
To Love, Honor and Defend Page 18