by Jessi Gage
“So, I guess you’re not mad at me,” he said as her kisses wandered to his cheek, then his ear—oh man, the heat of her agile tongue around his earlobe had him getting hard again. How was that even possible?
He felt her smile against his temple. “I think you’ve got enough anger bottled up in here for the both of us.” She circled her palm over the center of his chest.
True. He carried around enough anger for a small town, and it had been doing nothing but getting him in trouble lately.
“How do you feel, sweetheart?” He clicked on the lamp.
She looked beautiful, as always. No trace of sickness marred her complexion. In fact, the insecure slant to her brows had been replaced by heavy-lidded satisfaction. She looked more sexually confident, like she’d taken a risk and was pleased with the results. He liked the look on her.
“Fine,” she said as she snuggled into his side without a trace of insecurity. “But I’ll probably pass on any follow-up feasts you had in mind for tonight.”
He rolled to put her beneath him. Her clothed breasts compressed beneath his weight. Heaven. He didn’t deserve another chance with this amazing woman, but he’d be damned if he’d screw it up again.
“The only feasting I had in mind for tonight was on humble pie. I owe you an apology.”
“Derek.”
“No. Let me do this.” He traced the delicate strength of her cheekbones, the arches of her auburn eyebrows, her slender throat, which moved with a swallow as she closed her eyes to enjoy his touch. “I was trying so hard to learn something about you, I didn’t consider your safety. I made you sick. Can you forgive me?”
“It wasn’t your fault. I wanted to eat. It was delicious. I felt normal for a change. I just wish I hadn’t destroyed your bathroom.” She blushed. “Or that I could have cleaned it up for you.”
He shook his head. “You’re incredible. You know that?”
She gave him questioning eyes.
“I’ve never met anyone sweeter than you. I make you sick and you’re worried about my bathroom floor.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “Cleaning it up was awful, but only because I was hurting so bad for you. I couldn’t even hold you while you were going through that. And then what I said—it came out all wrong.”
“I know.” She rubbed their noses together in a trusting move that turned his insides gooey with happiness.
Layers of rage melted away, leaving him raw and exposed. With anyone else, he would have insulated himself against the vulnerability with hurtful words, but not with DG. He wouldn’t hurt her. Never again. He didn’t think he could survive it.
“You were hurting for me,” she said. “I knew that. I only wish I could have told you so.”
The melon scent of her hair surrounded him like a fantasy, and her hands rubbed up and down his back under his t-shirt, sending tingles racing along his spine. Just like that, she’d forgiven him—no judgment, no arguments, just sweet acceptance.
He had her forgiveness. Now he wanted her complete surrender. If he let another night go by without making love to her, he’d live to regret it.
No more regrets with DG.
He began unbuttoning her shirt.
She nipped his earlobe like she wanted him to keep going. “You didn’t sleep this afternoon like you said you would, did you?”
“How did you know?” he asked, not pausing in his task. When he finished, he spread her shirt and rubbed his hands up and down her trim torso, loving the cool satin of her skin.
“You look awful.”
He looked up to find her eyes sparkling with humor. “Oh, good. All the women in my life are in agreement. I look like crap. It’s official.”
She propped herself up on her elbows. “You saw Haley, today? How did it go? Are you two okay?”
His stomach tightened with the memory of Haley’s face pinched in pain. His poor little girl. “We’re okay. She forgave me. She broke her arm today. I spent a few hours with her at the hospital.”
She sucked in a breath. “I’m sorry. Will she be alright?”
He nodded. “Kids heal fast. She’s a trooper. Made me real proud today.”
DG beamed. “She seems like a great kid.”
“The best.”
If only he could be a better dad to her. He’d started to repeat the mistakes his father had made with him and his brothers. But he wasn’t interested in dwelling on his faults right now.
Right now all he wanted was to make DG feel as good as she’d made him feel. Then make her feel that good again. And again.
Chapter 12
Derek’s whole face softened when he talked about his daughter. His love for her was as obvious as his guilt. He’d mentioned Haley had forgiven him, but he clearly hadn’t forgiven himself. DG didn’t understand how that worked, how someone could continue to wallow in guilt even after they’d been forgiven. A person would have to hate himself more than he loved the person he’d wronged.
She cupped his cheek. “You’re still upset with yourself, aren’t you?”
He kissed her palm then shook his head slowly. “Honestly, the only thing I’m feeling right now is lucky to be with you. Lie back, sweetheart. I’m going to give you a good memory to take with you when you have to leave this morning.”
The thought of leaving him hit her hard in the chest. She didn’t know if her heart could take another long separation from her dream guy. Their eyes locked, and she saw the words had the same effect on him. His mouth set in a grim line.
“What’s happening to us?” she asked.
He rubbed his thumb over her cheek. “I don’t know. But I’m done wasting time. Aren’t you?”
She nodded solemnly and arched her back to let him unhook her bra. As she sank back into the pillows, he stroked his hands over her shoulders and down her arms, drawing the straps down and sending warm tingles racing over her skin. The moment he’d freed her breasts, his hands covered them, caressing and weighing them. His face was reverent, his gaze dark with determination.
He lowered his mouth to hers. When their lips touched, she moaned, wanting more than the sweet, slow kiss. He paid her reverence. She burned to be debauched.
“Please,” she begged, lost to the need to be filled, heart, body and soul, by Derek.
“Shhh. Let me.”
He stroked his hands all over her, up and down her torso, over her hips, around to her back, languid strokes from her shoulder blades to her buttocks. He followed his touch with kisses until every inch of her knew what it meant to be worshipped.
If she’d had her way, she would have missed this. Properly schooled, she lay back and let her tough construction worker have his tender way with her.
The only sounds were the scrape of his callused hands over her skin, the rasp of clothing as he divested her of each piece one at a time, her gasps, and his occasional hum of approval as he pleasured her with everything at his disposal.
At last, he settled between her legs, sent her a naughty grin and lowered his face to her most intimate place, where he proceeded to make her forget everything but delicious ecstasy. Even after an earth-shattering release, her serious, angry man persisted in his efforts to please her. He coaxed her higher and higher and anchored her to the bed with his strong hands as she came crashing down once more into purest bliss.
He sat up between her legs, smug as the cat who knocked over the milk jug. She was so relaxed, she couldn’t move a muscle, didn’t want to move a muscle. She just lay there, sprawled and naked and utterly transfixed while he dragged his t-shirt over his head.
She greedily devoured the sight of his tan skin, stretched over hard working muscle. His jeans were already open from earlier, and the V of his zipper perfectly framed the evidence that he’d fully enjoyed what they’d just shared. But the best sight of all was the look in his eyes, heavy with desire for her and tender with something she dared to hope might be love.
Her movements clumsy, she helped him peel his jeans down his hips as he covered her body with his.
She kneaded his firm glutes and skimmed her fingers up and down the warm skin of his back. She wanted to worship him as he’d worshipped her, but the intensity in his eyes spoke volumes. I will have you now, that look said. Right now.
No argument from her.
His mouth found hers and their tongues joined. With one hand, he guided himself to her center and pushed inside, stretching her with unapologetic intent, making them one. The amazing fullness felt so secure she wondered if the fog would lose its purchase on her. They froze like that and looked into each other’s eyes.
Derek exhaled a rough curse.
Thank God he’d turned the bedside lamp on earlier. She would remember the look on his face for the rest of her life…or death. Solemn passion bled from his every pore. Love shone in his brown eyes. Parting from him at dawn would break her.
“You feel so good,” he said. Then he made love to her.
Her heart soared as she locked her arms around him, her fingers clinging to his back. He held on just as tightly. All her dread of the fog and fear of being dead vanished, leaving only rightness.
Pleasure zoomed up on her more quickly than she would have liked. Her body was a parched desert and Derek’s loving brought floodwaters rushing up from below to quench and nourish. She wanted it to go on forever, but the drenching fulfillment wouldn’t be denied.
He knew. “Come on, sweetheart,” he murmured over her ear. “Let’s go there together.”
His words brought her home. She cried out in mixed pleasure and determination not to let the fog steal her away again. A moment later, Derek followed, his arms tightening around her until she couldn’t conceive of ever being alone again.
After several beautiful, quiet seconds, he whispered her name and brushed kisses over her face. Moisture on her cheeks told her she was weeping.
“Don’t cry, baby girl,” he said. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”
“Don’t let go,” she said. “When dawn comes, don’t let go. I won’t leave you again.”
“I won’t let go, sweetheart. I’m never letting go again.”
As he smoothed her tears away with his thumbs, she noticed the gray circles under his eyes. Her own problems vanished in the face of his exhaustion. “You need to sleep.”
“No. I won’t lose any time with you.”
“You can’t keep this up.”
He exhaled, clearly knowing he’d reached his limit.
She wiggled out from under him and clicked off the light. He didn’t protest as she guided him to lie down, and stretched alongside him. Darkness and Derek’s scent surrounded her, along with his strong arms.
“You’re right,” he said. “I need sleep, but I won’t let go. I promise.” Keeping one arm around her, he set his alarm for a few minutes before five AM. “I hate this.” He settled beside her, tucking her against him like a treasure. “We never have enough time.”
“Whatever we have, it’ll have to be enough,” she said, her fingers stroking his forearm.
“It’ll never be enough,” he murmured, already half asleep.
The sound of his steady breathing created a soothing rhythm. Peaceful. But she would never be completely at peace until she knew the coming dawn wouldn’t rip her away from the one place she longed to be.
* * * *
Derek buried his nose in the cool silk of DG’s hair. Her melon scent curled around him and conspired with his sated body to drag him into oblivion. He didn’t want to go. He wanted to stay with his woman, wanted to make love to her again. Once was not enough. A thousand times wouldn’t be enough.
But she was right. He couldn’t keep this up. He needed some serious shut-eye, even if the thought of going to sleep filled him with dread.
“Every time I close my eyes, I have bad dreams,” he said, fighting the inevitable.
“I’ll watch over you.” Her voice was a soothing balm.
He knew she would wake him from the nightmares when he had them again, but that wasn’t the issue. The first nightmare, the one where he relived the accident from last Friday, always caused a dark feeling he had trouble naming in the pit of his stomach. And the other one, the one where he worked in vain to save the older man, that one left him feeling so damn empty he could hardly breathe. DG would wake him, but not before the nightmares did their worst. He didn’t think his psyche could take any more, and he knew his body needed hours of uninterrupted sleep.
The dreams were breaking him. And poor DG was his only salvation. He hated being a burden to her. He should be her rock, not the other way around.
Sleep crept up on him even though he resisted. He felt himself falling into that place where a person could never be sure what was real or imagined.
Blackness gave way to a floating, twisted knot of living, pulsing matter. He recoiled from it, disgusted, even as his mind gave it a name. Guilt. The thing in the pit of his stomach he had yet to fully acknowledge.
“It was me.” He didn’t know if he’d said it out loud or just in the dream. “I caused the accident.”
The knot pulsed with approval. It swelled before him, but he also felt a sickening pressure in his gut, like the knot existed within him and this glimpse was just a projection. Its sides ballooned until he thought it would rupture and flood his system with poison. The thought made him sick, but he knew it had to happen. Like puking: once it was over, he’d feel better.
Then he could forget about the accident and the guilt.
The memory of yanking the wheel of his truck to cut off the little Honda assaulted him.
The knot had grown painfully large, pushing at the walls of his stomach.
“I was an asshole. I hurt somebody.”
“It’s okay,” DG said, stroking his hair. She probably thought he was dreaming again.
Maybe he was.
“No. It’s not. I did bad. I really hurt somebody.” Sickening, pulsing pain radiated to his limbs from that frigging knot.
“Then you need to make it right.”
Horror crashed over him as her words penetrated. He startled awake. A layer of sweat had chilled his skin. The full weight of what he had done on Friday sank in. Shame made his face flame and seared the knot into a lump of hard coal that would sit heavy in his gut forever.
So much for getting it to rupture and disappear. That would have been too easy. He didn’t deserve easy. He deserved to suffer.
“Derek?” DG smoothed away the sweat on his brow. “Are you okay?”
He shook his head. He wouldn’t be okay until he made it right, like DG said, and maybe not even then. He turned to her and stared at her figure in the dark, terrified by what he knew he had to do.
“Derek.” Her voice turned urgent. She cried out in pain. She coughed as if she were choking.
He turned on the light to find her clutching at her throat. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know,” she coughed. “My head hurts. I can’t breathe.”
He reached for her, but his hands didn’t connect with her shoulders. He blinked hard to clear his vision, because what he saw couldn’t possibly be. She was transparent.
“DG! Baby, what’s happening?”
She tried to speak, but could only cough. Her face turned red. Her eyes flew wide. Terror pulled her face taut. She reached for him with one hand while her other scratched pink furrows into her throat.
“DG!” He grabbed for her, but his hands came up empty.
She faded into mist. Her coughing drifted into nothingness. Faintly, he heard her choke out, “I’m not ready to go.”
Then there was nothing left of her.
He clawed at the covers, searching in vain for his dream girl. He launched out of bed, his hands swiping at the air. “DG! Where are you? Come back. Come back!”
Only silence answered him.
He wheeled around to stare at the bed while his pulse pounded in his ears. She didn’t reappear. The clock read 11:47.
His knees hit the floor. DG was gone.
She’d woken him from his nig
htmares with more than just pleasure. She’d told him she loved him. He hadn’t gotten the chance to tell her he felt the same way about her.
Chapter 13
A woman’s voice faded in and out with the throbbing pain crushing DG’s entire head. “Camilla? Cami? Oh, honey, come back to me, please.” The voice was familiar, and too loud.
The light pushing at her closed eyelids was too sharp.
A whimper climbed her throat and got stuck. She choked. Her body convulsed as she fought for air.
“Yes, hello? Hello? Cami’s waking up. She’s waking up! She’s in pain. Please hurry!”
She recognized the voice she’d heard in the fog when she’d been trying to get back to Derek.
“I’ll be right there, Mrs. Arlington.” Another voice, staticky and small.
“Oh, Cami sweetheart, hang on,” the first voice said. Cami meant nothing to her, but sweetheart did. She was Derek’s sweetheart. His DG. The pain could not rip her in two as long as she had an identity.
Hands on her shoulders tried to restrain her, but they were tentative and therefore didn’t belong to Derek. She fought them.
Noise bombarded her in a rush of urgent voices and the rattle of wheels over tile. More hands restrained her, not tentatively.
She fought those as well, still choking, dying.
Someone pried one of her eyes open and blinded her with needles of light. An authoritative female voice said, “Stop fighting the tube, Cami. You need it to help you breathe.
You’ve been in an accident. Squeeze my hand if you understand.”
She squeezed the cool hand gripping hers, not sure why she obeyed. These people…they were killing her. Where was Derek? She tried to ask and only choked more.
“Cami, I need you to calm down.” The no-nonsense voice sounded clear and close to her ear. “You’re in the hospital. You’re hurt very badly. You need to calm down so you don’t hurt yourself worse.”
The words hospital and hurt registered. She forced herself to relax in stages. Air filled her lungs.