WILDER DAYS

by Linda Winstead Jones

  Del sat on the side of the bed, knowing that he couldn’t leave Vic this way. Moving slowly, he lay down on his side, draped his arm around her waist and pulled her back against his chest. She didn’t fight, but instead melted into him gratefully, even as she choked back the tears.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, holding her tight.

  She shook her head. “Don’t be.” The tears were clear in her voice, but she tried to sound calm, collected as always. “I don’t know why I got so upset. It’s just everything else getting to me, I suppose.”

  “It was a long time ago,” he said softly.

  She nodded.

  “So why do I sometimes feel like it happened yesterday?” Over the years, he’d told himself that the pain of that final encounter was so sharp only because it had been his first brush with heartache. Only brush with heartache, to be honest. No other woman had ever worked her way into his heart the way Vic had, the way she still did. Dammit.

  “I was so angry,” she admitted. “With my father, of course, but also with you. I loved you. You should have known I wouldn’t...” She took a deep breath, to control the tears he imagined. “I kept waiting for you to come back,” she whispered. “I convinced myself that you surely knew I didn’t mean anything I’d said. As soon as it was safe, you’d come to my window at midnight and rescue me. You didn’t, and I never forgave you for that.”

  He ran his fingers through her curling hair. “You never came back to school.”

  “There were just a couple of weeks left, and my father told my teachers I was sick. I finished up at home and got my diploma in the mail. My father had me watched....” She made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “That’s how he knew about us. He began to suspect there was something going on and he hired a detective to follow me.”

  “Bastard,” Del muttered.

  “I wanted to sneak out of the house and go to you,” Vic continued, “but I was afraid he’d carry out his threat if I got caught. No, I knew he would. He had the connections to make it stick no matter what I said, and I couldn’t bear the idea of you going to jail. I couldn’t bear the idea of you going to jail because you loved me.”

  “And when you found out about the baby?” Del whispered.

  “You were gone. Your mother was gone. And I was left with no one to turn to but my father, the man who’d driven you away. The man who’d forced me to drive you away.” Impossibly, she snuggled tighter against him. She was warm and soft and real, and he loved the feel of her here, in his arms.

  “He tried to make me get rid of the baby, but I refused. There are some things even my father couldn’t force. He did try, but I told the doctor I wanted to have my baby, and that was the end of that.” She sniffled. “So good old Dad arranged a marriage with Preston. Otherwise I would have ended up on the street with nothing, and believe me, that was another threat he would have carried out.” She turned her face down. “I even looked for you at the wedding, glancing over my shoulder as I walked down the aisle, hesitating with my vows. I was so sure that if I stalled long enough you would be there. You didn’t come. I hated you then,” she said softly, her voice muffled by the pillow. “For not being there, for believing me when I said I didn’t love you. You should’ve known...”

  “Yes, I should have.”

  “You should’ve been there.”

  “I wish I had been.” No wonder Vic didn’t trust him! Her father had betrayed her, Preston had betrayed her, and he’d left when she needed him most. “I’m here now.”

  “Too late,” she whispered.

  “Is it?”

  Vic didn’t answer but she did snuggle closer to him, put her hand over one of his, and took a deep breath. They lay there that way for a long time, it seemed, before her breathing became deep and even and he knew she was asleep. Good. She needed her rest. The past several days had been tough, emotionally and physically.

  She needed her rest, and he needed to hold her.

  Vic opened her eyes to soft moonlight and the comforting feel of Del’s arms around her. The deep, even rise and fall of the chest that was pressed against her spine told her he was sleeping.

  She hadn’t planned or wanted to tell him what had happened all those years ago. It didn’t matter now, she kept telling herself. Water under the bridge, old news, unimportant, ancient. So why did it sometimes seem, like he’d said, that it had happened yesterday?

  The girl she’d been and the woman she’d become were so very different, she knew if her father gave her that ultimatum today, she’d fight. Back then, she hadn’t known how to fight, or even that she could. Now… she’d become a fighter, hadn’t she? No one pushed her around anymore. She didn’t take any man’s advice or direction. It had been a long time coming, but she was her own woman, and it was nice.

  It was also a little lonely, she decided, though it hadn’t seemed so until Del showed up, reminding her of everything she’d missed.

  Moving carefully, she twisted in Del’s arms until she faced him. Her nose touched his chest, one leg slipped between his and she draped an arm around his waist. His answer was to pull her more tightly against his warm body. After all this time, did she love him still? Or was this feeling she couldn’t shake nothing more than an echo of a memory?

  Vic tried to tell herself that what she felt was merely physical, but that in itself was amazing. She wasn’t a physical person. She didn’t get turned on, she didn’t throb this way when a man touched her. In the years since Del had walked a way, in the years since she’d sent him away, she hadn’t craved the touch of any man the way she craved him now. She hadn’t wanted to lose herself in a man’s touch, in passion and a need so great it had the power to consume.

  She slipped her fingers beneath his T-shirt, yearning for the feel of his skin against her hand. He was harder now than he’d been then, tougher and rougher. But his skin was smooth, warm and enticing. She loved it, the sensation of his skin against her hand.

  She wasn’t sure when he came awake, but he did. His hand copied hers, slipping beneath her blouse, touching gently. Her skin tingled, her entire body responded to a touch so simple.

  Del flicked open the buttons of her blouse, moving languidly, accomplishing the task easily. She answered by slipping both hands beneath his T-shirt and holding on to him with her palms steady and her fingers rocking.

  When the blouse was completely unbuttoned he opened it slowly, peeling back the fabric as he rolled her onto her back. He kissed her, first on the mouth, then on the throat, his mouth finally trailing down to the valley between her breasts. His fingers worked the clasp, and when the bra was gone, tossed onto the floor along with the blouse, Del raked his fingers across her nipples. They pebbled at his touch, and when he laid his mouth on her there, she closed her eyes and lost herself. She hadn’t lost herself in such a long time, and he made it easy. So very easy.

  Her body screamed for his, but he took his time. He suckled and caressed her breasts, he touched her gently, and when he rose up and laid his mouth over hers, she kissed him greedily, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding on tight while their tongues danced and their bodies aligned.

  She reached between their bodies and touched him, raking her palm over his denim-covered erection. He moaned as she traced her fingers over his length, testing and teasing, amazed and aroused. She unbuckled his jeans and lowered the zipper, her hand shaking as she accomplished the task.

  Del filled her hand, hot and hard, and she caressed him again. He moaned this time, and she caught the moan in her mouth, tasting it, cherishing it.

  Her own trousers, a soft cotton more cooperative than his blue jeans, were whisked down and off, and she was laid completely bare beneath him.

  She didn’t believe in much anymore, she didn’t willingly place herself in anyone’s hands. But she felt herself giving more and more of herself to Del. More than her body, more than her closely guarded trust. She slipped her hands beneath his waistband and pushed his jeans down, her hands caressing his
bare backside as she halfway undressed him, her body wrapping around his. A leg over his, an arm around his neck.

  He touched her intimately, his fingers dancing over her wet flesh. She throbbed all the more, arched her back to bring him closer, and her breath caught low in her throat. He found the sensitive nub at her entrance and circled his fingertip there, until she was sure she could wait no longer, until she was ready to scream and come off the bed.

  And then he was there, slowly pressing himself against her, and then inside her, easing the pain of need and ending the aching sensation of being hollow without him. He completed her, filling her slowly, again taking his time.

  Her own anxiousness faded, now that he was inside her. She was on the edge of climax, but she didn’t want this to end. Not yet. She wanted his body against hers, deep inside hers, a part of hers. She wanted this sensation of being one to go on and on. Her heart beat too fast, she couldn’t breathe, completion teased her with ribbons of pleasure that fluttered through her body.

  He began to move, rhythmically, slowly. He would almost leave her, and then with a steady thrust he filled her again. Every sensation was intense, new, more wonderful than she’d imagined or remembered. The air was clearer, sharper, and nothing else mattered but this—the way they felt when they came together. He was beautiful, the way he touched her was heavenly, and each long, slow thrust was more extraordinary than the last. She rocked against Del, drew him deep, held him there. And shattered.

  It was unlike anything she’d experienced or expected. The waves of pleasure were intense, incredible. She felt Del come with her, she cried out loud and held on tight.

  The words I love you were on her lips, but she bit them back. This wasn’t love, it was just a persistent physical attraction she couldn’t—wouldn’t—fight anymore. Not tonight, anyway.

  She ran the tips of her fingers through Del’s short hair, marveling at the feel of the silky strands.

  “Stay with me tonight,” she whispered.

  “I’m here.”

  “All night.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Take this off," she said, smiling as she tugged on his T-shirt. “And this.” She ran a hand down his hip to the waistband of his jeans. “And...” Hold me tight and don’t let go. She couldn’t say that. It sounded too desperate. Too needy. “And kiss me again.” She drew his mouth to hers, still hungry for that touch. Could she ever get enough of this?

  “I’m so tired of fighting with you,” she said, her lips still brushing his, her fingers playing with his black-as-night hair. “For tonight, let’s not argue.”

  “Another truce?” he teased.

  “A ceasefire,” she said with a smile.

  “We’ll just hunker down in the foxhole for the night.”

  “All’s quiet on the Southern front.”

  “I surrender.”

  She pulled Del’s mouth to hers once again. “Me, too.”

  They did sleep, but it would be a lie to say they passed a restful night. All barriers were down, and surrender turned out to be very, very nice. They’d touched, and talked and made love for a second time. They caressed each other like old lovers who’d been apart for a long time and were relearning old curves and lines and finding new ones.

  He’d checked in with the detail surrounding the house more than once. Shock had long been back from his movie date with Wanda, and if Del didn’t know better, he’d say his friend and partner was well on his way to being infatuated. Shock was a wonder with women, but he didn’t get emotionally involved. His work was too important, and the idea of being tied down to one place and one woman was too much for him to bear. But he certainly had enjoyed his evening with Wanda Freeman, more than usual.

  All was quiet, where the surveillance of Vic’s house was concerned. In a way that was good, but… If anything was going to happen, it needed to happen quickly. There was no way the powers-that-be would continue to okay the expense of this detail if it didn’t pan out in a few days.

  Del forgot the reason he was here, he forgot that the house was surrounded by a detail made up of local cops and DEA agents, and just watched the woman beside him. She slept again, on her stomach this time, her face buried in a soft pillow, her bare back pale and shapely in the moonlight cast through the window, the white sheet barely covering her nicely rounded bottom.

  Vic had always been beautiful. As a girl, as a woman, as the mother of his child. As a lover, she was striking. Giving, demanding and peaceful, all at the same time. Moonlight made her skin look pale, her hair silver, the hands that had reached for him through the night, fragile. He loved her hands. Talented, strong, gentle as a spring breeze.

  Del took the sheet that covered Vic between two fingers and slowly pulled it down, gradually baring her backside and thighs and calves for him. She was so beautiful, the sight of her lying there took his breath away. Literally. Completely.

  Moving slowly, he leaned over and down and kissed the backs of her knees, one at a time. She sighed but didn’t move. His hands skimmed up the backs of her thighs and over her backside, the sight of his clumsy-looking hands against her delicate skin fascinating. He kissed her again, at the base of her spine this time, and again she sighed. Her fingers moved, then, rocking against the sheet. She turned her head. And as he worked his mouth up her spine, she came fully awake. He felt it first, in the way she breathed and in the way her body moved beneath his mouth. He heard it, in the sigh that was not one mindlessly uttered in sleep. And he saw it, when his leisurely trip up Vic’s back ended at her neck and she opened her eyes. And smiled.

  She didn’t smile enough these days. At least, she hadn’t since his return. He wanted to see her smile more often, he wanted to make her laugh. He wanted to see just a hint of the carefree girl he’d loved in the woman he craved to distraction.

  She rolled over beneath him, circling her arms around his neck as she came to rest on her back. Her eyes were sleepily hooded but smiling, her lips were full and inviting. He kissed those lips, unable not to, and as he kissed her, Vic wrapped her legs around his. Her fingers caressed his erection as she guided him to her.

  He surged forward to fill her, burying himself in her wet heat. Her body caressed his, welcomed his, and once again he forgot everything but the way she felt when she was so completely wrapped around him. He’d never known anything as powerful as the way they made love. He told himself it was the intensity of the past week that made the way they came together so potent. It was their past, intruding, or some freak chemical attraction. And then he quit reasoning and just loved her.

  He pushed deep, and Vic arched up off the bed and threw her head back. She climaxed with a throaty cry that stole the last of his resolve. The release was as powerful as he had known it would be, as complete and earth-shattering as the first time he’d made love to her tonight. And the second. He had a terrible feeling, as he laid his head on her shoulder and breathed deep, that he would never get enough of her.

  She cradled his head and hooked her legs more firmly around his. “I love you,” she whispered sleepily, and then she drifted off once again, while he was still inside her, while their hearts still beat too fast and the blood flowed through their veins too furiously.

  He wondered if she’d remember what she’d said, come morning, or if she thought this was all part of a dream. And who was she speaking to? The Del who lay with her now? Or the Del she’d loved as a girl? He didn’t want to be nothing more than a fond memory, the faint but undeniable allure of a first love. He wanted… Hell, he didn’t know what he wanted.

  His suitcase, in Noelle’s room where he’d expected to be sleeping tonight, contained a pack of condoms. He hadn’t made a trip to that room tonight, and Vic hadn’t suggested that he should. Maybe this was the wrong time of the month for her to get pregnant, though even he knew that was a poor excuse for birth control. Maybe she’d been so caught up in sensation she’d forgotten.

  He was normally so careful. He didn’t have unprotected s
ex, ever. But something primal, something basic and deep and undeniable, wanted to see and experience everything he’d missed last time. He wanted to watch Vic grow. He wanted to lay his hand over her rounded belly, listen to the heartbeat of a growing child, talk to the baby as it grew, day by day. He had no right to want these things, he knew, but in the night, in the dark, with a naked Vic sleeping beneath him, it seemed like a fine idea.

  Chapter 11

  Vic woke when the sun touched her eyelids, the bothersome light intruding on a dream. She could tell, as her eyes fluttered open, that it was well into the morning. She never slept this late!

  Rolling over languidly, she ran smack-dab into the reason for her uncustomary sleeping habits. Del was sprawled there with the sheet to his waist, his back to her. He was naked, of course, and sleeping deeply. And he was so tempting he tugged at her heart, even now.

  When she’d thought of him over the years, more often than she’d liked or admitted, she always remembered his long hair. She’d loved it, years ago, so thick and silky. But she liked it short, too. It suited the new Del, who was a harder, fiercer man than the boy she’d once loved had been. The long hair had softened the distinct line of his jaw, the power in his neck, the strength of his shoulders.

  Vic left the bed gingerly, trying not to wake him. Maybe she could be bold in the dark, but by the light of day she’d be more cautious. She wasn’t fearless, not by any means, she thought as she grabbed her robe from the closet and slipped it on. She really should head downstairs, make some coffee, maybe make Del breakfast.

  But she wasn’t through looking at him. She turned around and walked toward him on soft, bare feet, then knelt on the floor beside the bed. She smiled when her searching gaze landed on his earring, that one glittering diamond that he was wearing again after their visit with Kirby Ellis. No matter how short his hair was, he would never be an ordinary man. She liked that about him, and always had.