Shadow Heart (Broken Bottle Series Book 1)

by Taeuffer, Pam

  “Oh, Nicky.” His eyes narrowed. “What a sweet woman you are." His tattooed arms reached for me. I found myself inside them as he kissed my cheek. "What’s it filled with?”

  “Just stuff.”

  “Tell me one thing you have inside there,” he pressed.

  “Some of my old journals.”

  “I don’t want to watch the movie sitting on the sofa.” He squeezed my hand and released me from his body. “Let’s watch it together, lying in your bed.”

  “You said we could sit and talk.” I reached for some popcorn. “What happened to that?”

  “Nicky Young!” He pretended to be shocked. “I never said we’d do anything but talk! Where is your mind, lady?”

  I looked away.

  I guess . . . I guess my mind is going places . . . your arms.

  He closed and locked my door, picked up the mugs of chocolate from the table and put them on my nightstand. He was turned away from me, his broad back and shoulders begging for my touch, looking at something.

  I realized as I peeked around him that he was staring at the charm he'd given me for my birthday. I'd put it on a chain and hung it on a picture frame. The photo inside was of my family on a vacation in Arizona. He took the charm in his fingertips.

  “You keep it at your bedside." His low voice poked me between my legs.

  "Yeah." I looked away.

  "I like that." He hung the charm and it's chain on the picture frame once again, and then turned to face me. "I also like that you don’t have a king-sized bed.” He took the animal toys off my bed and put them on the sofa. “That’s good.”

  “Why does that matter?”

  “You won’t be able to get away from me. I can reach out and pull you back to my body.”

  I stared at him.

  I could hardly believe he was in my bedroom.

  I didn't trust there wasn't a double meaning in things he said, but I couldn't help it—I lowered my guard and waited for his next move.

  “Get your shoes those sweat pants off. Let’s get comfortable.” His suggestion was like a command.

  How can I get comfortable?

  “Ryan, I’m not watching a movie in bed with you." I sat on the sofa and took off my sneakers.

  “Why not?”

  “Oh come on, I don’t need to explain why.” I tossed my shoes in the closet. "We both know that's taking a chance."

  "On what?" he pressed, again, again and again.

  Why am I so hesitant? I lay with Jerry last night. But this . . . now I know what Mom was trying to say.

  “You don’t have to worry about me.” His stride was slow and easy as he closed the space between us.

  God, help me. How can I assert myself when his comments come one after the other?

  “Are you keeping those sweatpants on so I’ll undress you?” He put an arm around me, and held a stuffed bunny toy in his free hand, tickling my nose with it. “If you don’t take them off, I will.” He kissed me on the cheek. “Mr. Rabbit and I insist.”

  “That’s Blackberry."

  “Who is?”

  “Mr. Rabbit,” I replied. “His name is Blackberry.”

  “Nice to meet you, Blackberry.” Ryan shook one of his little paws and put him on the loveseat.

  Ooh, he’s absolutely adorable.

  He took my hand and I followed him to the side of my bed. He flipped off his shoes and when his big body hopped on, the mattress compressed as if a glacier had come through and scooped out a valley.

  “Come on.” He patted the area by his hip, inviting me to join him while still holding my hand. “Sit on my lap.”

  How can I get by him? He fills up every space.

  “I’ll sit on the couch,” I said. But his grasp on my hand was strong and he held me to the bedside.

  My body is going to catch on fire if I don’t move away.

  “Please, sit next to me,” he asked sweetly.

  There go my ears. The blood is whooshing, and my head’s pounding. I won’t be able to hear him talk much longer.

  “Remember now, you promised you’d be a Boy Scout."

  “Come on, sweet Nicky.” His voice was soft and loving.

  “It’s too dangerous to sit with you on my bed, Ryan.”

  “I want to watch your body climb over me,” he smiled.

  I turned to reach for the mug of chocolate and planned to sit on my sofa. “I am not going to climb over you, and that's that, so—"

  Before I finished, his big hands grasped my waist, and he lifted me with hardly an effort, pulling me on top of his body. I sat with my knees on each side of his hips and the bottom of my thighs touched the tops of his. Everything about us seemed connected.

  When he unclipped my hair, it fell all around his face.

  Get up?

  I couldn’t even move.

  Those leg muscles of his were bulging under me. He pulled my body closer to his. Our chests touched and my face was inches from his wonderful lips. I let out a small breath from the force of his grip. My legs opened and hugged his sides. His body's hard muscles—they didn't give an inch.

  “Can you put your arms up for me so I can lift off your sweatshirt?”

  I hesitated, trying to analyze what his expression told me. Could I really let him inside my layers of protection?

  “I promise to be a Boy Scout just like you asked.” He held up two fingers.

  You are a devil—a delicious, angelic devil.

  I put my arms up. He took the bottom of my sweatshirt in his hands to pull it over my head. As he did, my pajama top lifted and showed my stomach.

  “Holy God, Nicky, your belly . . .” his voice trailed off.

  I brought my arms down quickly and crossed them. He tossed my sweatshirt toward the end of the bed and his big hands grasped my shoulders, pulling me to his lips. My arms opened. I reached for his neck and enjoyed his kiss.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t take advantage of you.” His voice had velvet edges that raced across my skin. He untied the drawstring on my pants, and his hands held the waistband. “I never thought I’d be taking my sweat pants off your body like this. It’s—"

  “Wait a minute.” I tried to stop the motion that was rushing on me. I was about to get lost in everything Ryan Tilton was. “I’ll take them off.”

  “Trust me. I won’t try anything. I promise.”

  I looked into his eyes, which were soft and lovely.

  “Okay.” I'm taking a leap of faith like never before.

  With his thumbs still gripping the waistband of my sweatpants, he lowered them to my thighs while I lay back on the bed. I held my green plaid pajama bottoms tight to my waist to make sure they stayed on as he slipped the sweats off my legs.

  His eyes fixed on mine.

  I had to match his stare.

  I had to match him.

  He needed to see I could be strong.

  I was strong.

  And yet, a part of me didn’t want to be strong anymore.

  Chapter 34

  A Different Slumber Party

  After Ryan removed my sweats, I started to sit up.

  He put his arms around my back and lifted me so my behind rested on his thighs. Only my pajamas and the sweat pants he wore separate our naked bodies.

  “Ryan,” I tried to catch my breath. “Please, I, I feel as if I could be . . .”

  “Swept away?” His low voice swirled around me.

  “Mm-hmm,” I answered weakly.

  “You could take me away with one sweet breath.” He sighed and then took his shirt off.

  Oh hell, look at that!

  His thumb rubbed my cheek. “Make sure you behave yourself and don’t tease me. You in those pajamas and bare feet . . . Oh, what I’d like to do.” With both of his arms holding mine, he bent me back just slightly so there was a little room between our bodies. “I want you to look at me.”

  “I am looking at you.” My face is ready to blow off!

  “See my eyes, my lips, my neck and the pulse
in it that's beating for you.” His voice seemed like a net made from delicate fibers falling softly on my body. “Take your hands and touch my face, my arms, and my legs. Explore me. Tell me what you feel.”

  “Oh . . . God, I, um . . . I don’t want to do that.” I had trouble catching my breath. “Let’s just get up and sit on the sofa. We’re only watching a movie, aren’t we?” Tight throat, tight throat!

  “Uh-huh.” He held my hands and put my palms on his cheeks. “Do you feel how open I am? That's just for you. The hardness of my muscles and the resistance in my body has softened. Can you feel it? Go slowly and tell me . . . tell me everything.”

  My hands cupped his face. I scratched his evening shadow, and brushed my thumbs over his eyebrows. Tracing the hard edge of his jaw, I flattened my hands down each side of his thick neck. His thick veins were throbbing. I loved the way they stood out. I couldn't resist tracing them with my fingertips, and one finger rested on the heartbeat inside there.

  "You like that," he whispered.

  I nodded and splayed my fingers on his collarbone and then over his big shoulders. As I framed his muscular arms I smiled and looked in his eyes.

  “I’ve loved these since last year.” I was taken into some altered consciousness. Maybe my Evil Twin had possessed me in those sensual moments. Some voice I never imagined began to speak—loudly.

  “I know.” My legs squeezed his sides, responding to the dip and temptation of his voice.

  "I like your tattoos—a lot." I lifted one of his arms with both of my hands and slowly caressed it. Leaning forward, I kissed his Phoenix tattoo and then outlined it with my fingertips. I pretended it was part of a coloring book and I was filling in the colors. I traced the veins in his forearms. I loved them. I'd wanted to touch one of them for so long, and now I was actually doing it.

  When it came to that spot, his chest—the thing that stopped me in my tracks when he had first come to my door last year—I hesitated.

  A deep, throaty sound rose from his chest.

  I was almost tempted to stop.

  I could feel my pelvis aching while I sat on his thighs.

  I forced myself to continue.

  I had to.

  I smiled, looked into his eyes, and took a deep breath. My face was tight with pressure. I knew putting my hands on his magnificent chest might be the end of me.

  His groaned when I touched and played with his body. Although he knew I was under his spell, I felt as if he might be falling under mine.

  To me, his chest was the eighth wonder of the world. The part of his body that showcased his strength was my perfect mountain—my volcano. It was broad, firm, and yet giving. I loved the manly hair on it and his bulging pecs. They didn't look like a body builder's chest, but I felt the same power inside him. It wasn't all hard, masculine male that sat underneath me. He had softness, too. He was the right mix of delicious and seemed just right . . . for me.

  I was afraid to continue any lower with my hands. I was transfixed on the V in his lower abdomen—his Loin of Apollo, which led to those erotic places I'd only imagined. So I looked over the rest of his body using only my eyes. The man in front of me was lovely and he was alive, on display just for me that night.

  While I searched him, his eyes searched me.

  His arms seemed ready to take me away.

  Could I let go and travel with him on a journey for two?

  If I lay on his mountain, would I disappear into a wet mess?

  He reached for my hands and placed them on his nipples.

  “Feel me. Don't be afraid. Everything about me is yours. Feel what you have—my heart, my body—it’s all for you. I'm yours.”

  I closed my eyes and let my hands rest on his pecs; his hard little nipples tickled my palms. His heartbeat was strong and thrummed like a the engine of a magnificent racecar. I imagined it called out to mine. I felt paralyzed and rested my hands on his chest for so long he had to whisper my name.

  “Nicky?” He knew I was lost. “Tell me what you feel.”

  “I feel . . . like . . . I can hardly look at your body, let alone touch it. Sometimes I can’t even look at your face.” I swallowed. "You get this . . . it’s . . . a certain smile and your eyes go soft. When you do that, it’s all over for me.”

  “Tell me how it felt when you ran your hands down my body and held me in them.” A sensual glimmer shone in his eyes.

  “I felt a man who’s strong both physically and mentally, and seems ready to love me. I’m not sure I understand, but . . .” I paused a few seconds. “I think you’re smart and extremely capable. You’ll continue doing big things your whole life. The contacts you say you have, the part of your vision you’ve shared with me—it’s unique, like you.

  “Your eyes are a soft, beautiful blue. Sometimes . . ." I hesitated knowing what I was about to say might sound silly. "Sometimes I think I see clouds drifting in them. I know it sounds . . . but . . . I love your golden-brown hair." I continued as if coaxed by a storyteller speaking to me in an earpiece. "I want to grab it by the handfuls and play with it. You’re easy to be with and you're kind. But like I said before, this scares me.”

  Ryan let my hands drop.

  “You’ve scared me ever since . . .” Should I reveal more? Should I let him in on my feelings from last year? Is it too soon?

  “Tell me.” The back of his fingers brushed my cheek. “I never tire of hearing you speak about the things circling around in that beautiful, smart head of yours. Please don’t be afraid.”

  “You’re a wave of something warm sweeping over and through me," I sighed. "It’s as if you’re one of your own pitches. You’re coming too fast and I’m not ready to bat!”

  We both laughed softly at my analogy. It was as if a heavy curtain was sliced down the middle and a fresh breeze was let into the room.

  “What do you see when you look at me?” I was still giggling, but I was nervous and on guard.

  His eyes focused.

  I immediately understood my question opened another door.

  The air had stilled.

  Everything paused in anticipation of his answer.

  I wondered if my heart had stopped to listen.

  “I see a promise of everything sweet and good, challenging and tough, maddening and wonderful. I see a woman who's sexy, and could tear me apart with one finger. I want everything you've got to give.” Pushing my hair back, his big hands played on my scalp and gave me chills. “When I look at you, and let me reassure you that I’ve looked at you completely, I see love that's pure and innocent. To me, your greater purpose is immeasurable.”

  “Ryan, the way you say things . . . I mean, I love that we're talking like this, but I’ll be gone in six months. You say you love me; how could you endure me being at college for four years? I don't get it. Still, you’ve got me thinking about—"

  “About?” he raised one eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

  “Being with you.” It was as if my entire body let go in a sigh. “I think about staying at home so we’ll be near each other while we date. I mean, have I understood you correctly? You want to date me, don't you?"

  He nodded.

  "Well, I toy with giving up the dorms so I'm closer to you.”

  He put his arms around my waist.

  My knees were still on each side of his hips.

  “And I don’t understand why those thoughts are racing in my head. I really want to get out of here and I hardly know you.”

  “I think we know each other pretty well,” he responded.

  “Yeah, we have things in common and enjoy one another as friends, but . . . What are you asking me to consider? Just say it.”

  “I have said it. I want you to open everything in your body: your eyes, heart, and mind. I want you to consider bringing the parts of our lives together and make us full. I need you to include me in your dreams.” He put his head on my chest. “Your heart is beating so fast.”

  “It’s going to explode,” I said in a breathy voice
.

  “It’s the sweetest beat I’ve ever heard.” Every word was encased within a golden watch, swinging back and forth, hypnotizing and keeping me open to possibilities.

  One of his arms slipped around my back.

  The other reached underneath my pajama top. He flattened it on my belly. As soon as I felt his touch I couldn’t help but let out a quick, low moan.

  My head fell back.

  With one move he was on top of me.

  His heavy masculine body pressed down.

  My legs somehow found their way around his hips.

  Thirsty pleasure filled his kisses and I felt the vibrations on my skin from the sounds he made.

  When he lifted his head to look at me, he smiled as if enjoying that my eyes were open. I needed to watch him as he moved on my body, so I could understand his desire . . . and my desire.

  “Do you like the way my mouth feels on you?” One hand slid to my hip and the other remained on my stomach, flexing, and exploring. “I love your belly. The way it sticks out here . . .”

  “Ryan . . .”

  “I know.” He smiled a delicious grin that called out to my Evil Twin. She quietly sat and waited to take full on possession of me. "I know where I’m welcomed and where I’m not.”

  His lips descended on my mouth. The blood coursing through my body made pulses rise and fall; my face, my skin, and my muscles . . . all of them seemed ready to burst into some primal calling.

  My heart leapt to him.

  My legs were weak and trembling.

  I lost track of time.

  He lifted our bodies together once more.

  My knees were bent, my behind rested on his thighs, and my heels dug into his hips. Waves and waves of goose bumps made my skin flutter as he lightly scratched my back and then rubbed it with his palms. So many kisses adored my face that whenever his mouth came close to mine, I felt his body move and started to anticipate it. I wanted to lick his lips to take a taste of them.

  As I went limp, I let my head drop into his chest.

  My arms relaxed over his shoulders and the weight of my body fell on him.

  He let me lie still until I was ready to gather myself once more.