by Jess Dee
She opened her legs so he could circle her swollen nub. Sensation coiled through him, settling in his rigid shaft.
“Adam…I—”
“Shh.”
It was a delay tactic. She’d see straight through it, but he didn’t care. She was awake and responsive, and he needed to come. They could talk later. He dipped his hand downward, pressed ever so lightly, and she responded with a gush of warmth between her thighs.
“Aah,” he breathed.
“Please,” she whispered, “talk to me.”
He dipped his finger inside, slipped it into her warm, welcoming depths. “I want you, Lexi.” Slowly, languorously, he withdrew and then slipped back in again.
She writhed against him. “You can’t ignore me forever. I won’t let you.”
He pressed his thumb against her clit. “Do you call this ignoring you?”
She gasped. “You can’t disregard what happened.”
“We’ll talk, sweetheart,” he promised. “Later.” When he’d had more time to distance himself from the dream.
She groaned as he pressed a little more firmly and ventured a little deeper.
“I need you.” He shouldn’t admit it. He should shut the hell up, but he couldn’t. He worked his hand over her, seducing her. “I never meant to…” He shook his head, dumbfounded by both the realization and the fact that he was telling her. “Somehow…it happened.” How? When?
She started to say something, but he cut her off. “Lean forward slightly.” He couldn’t hold back any longer.
She did as he said and yelped as the action pushed him harder against her clit.
“Don’t move.” It took mere seconds to find a condom. Then he was back, cradling her, touching, probing her hidden folds. He nudged her lips apart and sheathed himself deep inside her.
She cried his name out loud.
“Christ, Lexi,” he gasped. “I need you.”
He set the pace, plunging slowly in and out. She met him stroke for stroke, her breath coming in soft pants. He was very nearly mindless with desire. He trailed his hand down her back, found her buttocks and traced her cleft. She whimpered at his touch. Then he palmed both cheeks, pulled them apart slightly, and thrust even deeper.
“Dear God… Adam.”
The depth of emotion she wrung from him was confounding. He had to tell her, had to let her know. “You make me feel again.”
She moaned and squeezed her inner muscles around him, sucking him into a vortex of pleasure. He spiraled off on a physical high. She pushed her hips back, met him time and again as he plunged ever deeper.
He couldn’t get enough, wanted more, wanted all of her. “I thought…I would never…want to…feel again.” He spoke his words in time to the rhythm of his thrusts. “You changed that.”
The tension built. His desire increased tenfold. He thrust faster as she tortured him with the wild gyration of her hips, and he knew he couldn’t hold out much longer.
He twisted inside her, pulled out, plunged in, and then did it again.
“Ohmygod. Adam, I…oh…oh!” She came, her inner muscles clamping down around him, clenching convulsively.
Her orgasm threw him over the edge. He plunged into her one last time and lost whatever control he’d possessed. “Lexi,” he cried as he exploded inside her, the gratification of his release more powerful than he’d ever anticipated. “Christ, sweetheart, I need you so bad.”
…
Time passed and neither of them moved. Whether it was a minute or an hour, Lexi wasn’t sure. Adam had disposed of the condom, but aside from that, they hadn’t changed positions. He still lay behind her, keeping his face hidden. The longer they lay without speaking, the louder the silence became.
It wasn’t just the two of them anymore. Adam’s ghost sat between them.
Finally she could bear the tension no more. “Who’s Timmy?”
His breath was ragged, and an eternity passed before he answered. “My son.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “You have a son?”
“Had,” he corrected, his voice a million miles away. “He died.”
“Oh, Adam.” She tried to turn around, but his arm pinned her down. “When?”
“Ten years ago.”
A decade, and his pain had not yet relented. “How?”
He exhaled. “Cancer.”
Lexi’s eyes filled with tears. “How old was he?”
“Three. And a half.” An iron clamp squeezed her heart. “He had a brain tumor.”
In a strained voice, Adam told her everything. She understood how much the effort cost him. His arm and chest were rigid, his voice stoic. Quietly, she lay with him, desperate to console yet unable to intrude while he recounted his past.
“At first the doctors diagnosed epilepsy because he had seizures.” His fist clenched and unclenched beside her belly. “They put him on medication for it. Then they blamed his other symptoms on the drug, like the nausea and the vomiting and the fact that he was so tired all the time.” Clench. Unclench. “He started getting headaches.” His voice caught. “They were so bad. Sometimes he’d hold his head and cry.” He swallowed. “We gave him painkillers, strong stuff. They didn’t always help.” Breath shuddered from his chest. “We couldn’t help him. I…I couldn’t make the hurt go away. Sometimes, he wouldn’t even let me hold him. He’d push me away and lie on the floor and sob in agony.”
Tears ran down Lexi’s face unchecked.
“Within a month, he lost coordination and had trouble walking. He’d fall over for no reason. The neurologist insisted on doing a scan, an MRI, and that’s when they found it. They operated immediately—it was our only option. He was three, and they took him into surgery and opened him up and cut into his brain.” He took a deep breath. “It was too late. By then the tumor was so big and had grown into places they couldn’t reach, and they couldn’t get it all.” He was silent for a long time. “He died eight weeks later.”
His heart hammered against her shoulder, and the muscle shifted in his arm as he clenched his fist again. “He changed. In eight weeks. Lost his words.” Adam began to shake. “He’d try to say something but wouldn’t be able to find the right words. He’d get so angry. There were the times he’d talk and look at us and wait for an answer. We couldn’t respond, because…because he’d spoken gibberish, and we couldn’t understand him.”
He drew another shuddering breath. “He had nightmares, even when he was awake. He’d scream and scream, and no matter what we did, we couldn’t comfort him.
“The end… Christ, it came so quickly. He couldn’t walk or talk. He…he didn’t recognize us. There was nothing left of him. And then…he…died.” Adam’s voice trailed off. His words reverberated through the early morning stillness.
This time when Lexi turned to him, he offered no resistance. She wrapped her arms around his shivering body and held tight, fearful that if she let go, the hurt would overwhelm him and she’d lose him to his memories.
...
Hours later, they sat together in the kitchen, pretending to eat breakfast. Adam chased a piece of toast around his plate with a fork while Lexi picked at a grape, wondering how to phrase her next question.
“Where’s Timmy’s mother?” she asked finally.
“In Perth.” He stabbed the toast.
“Is she…are you married?”
He looked up sharply and then shook his head. “Divorced.”
“Do you see her often?”
“I haven’t seen her in years. It’s too hard.” His face was white. “I bumped into her in Melbourne last week.” He lifted his fork, stared at the toast. “I didn’t want to talk to her, but I couldn’t very well walk away, could I?”
“Did the marriage end badly?”
He dropped the fork and gave up the pretense of interest in food. “Not really. After Timmy died, we drifted apart. We liked each other well enough. We simply weren’t in love anymore. A dead child wasn’t enough to carry a dying relationship.”
&nb
sp; Adam stood and paced around the room. “We were young, inexperienced. We couldn’t give each other the kind of support we needed. She turned to her family and friends, I turned to mine, and we forgot to be there for each other. It wasn’t a nasty breakup. Just a kind of sad recognition that we couldn’t be together any more. Not without Timmy.” He stopped, stared out the window. “Our lives changed after that. I came to Sydney. She remarried. I think she’s happy again. She has two kids now.”
There was so much unspoken emotion in his voice. “Have you met them?”
He turned to face her. “Timmy’s brothers?” His smile was lifeless. “I’m not strong enough. What if they look like him?” He shook his head. “What if I resent them because they’re living and Timmy isn’t?”
Her heart squeezed. He carried around so much pain. Had he ever worked through his loss? Or did he only acknowledge it at night, when sleep anaesthetized the grief?
“What about you, Adam? What about your life and your happiness? Don’t you want to get married again, have more children?”
He looked like she’d punched him in the gut. “How could I have another child? Timmy was…was my life.” His palm hit the wall with a resounding blow. “He died. I can’t do it again. Won’t.” He took a deep breath and then another, rubbed his hand. “I can’t be around small kids, can’t talk about them, not without thinking about Timmy.” His face hardened. “A wife and kids aren’t in my future.”
Lexi tried not to respond to his exclamation. It wasn’t easy. Every minute she spent in his company, she became more convinced Adam was the man for her. How could she ever convince him of that?
“I’m happy where I am now,” he concluded.
Happy? He was possibly the loneliest man she’d ever met. He wore his isolation like a life vest. While it kept him buoyant and alive, it also kept him adrift in a sea of people, not allowing him to ever reach out and grab onto another person’s hand.
“Are you? Happy, I mean?”
“Compared to ten years ago, yes.”
“And compared to eleven years ago?”
“That’s an unfair question.”
“I’m trying to understand you.” His pain was palpable. “From where I stand, you look hurt and alone and badly in need of love and care.”
He shrugged warily. “Maybe that’s why I needed you here with me this weekend.” His head dropped back against the window and his eyes closed.
“Do you feel better when I’m with you?”
“When you’re with me, I feel. Period. That night in Melbourne, I felt alive for the first time ten years. I…liked it.”
The vise around her heart loosened, and she experienced a buzz of unexpected hope.
“Thing is, I haven’t allowed myself emotion for so long. I’m not sure what do with it.”
She walked over to him. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she laid her head on his chest. “You don’t have to do anything with it. Just feel. Let the emotions be. Accept them. You don’t have to deal with them or act on them. If you’re sad, cry. If you’re happy, smile. Don’t repress what’s happening between us in case you get hurt again. Grieve over Timmy, but don’t stop living, Adam.”
His arms, which had been hanging loose at his sides, crept up and he clung to her, burying himself in her embrace. She held him, soothed away his pain, gave him her strength and willed him to be happy again, to feel again. As his resistance weakened and his muscles relaxed, she acknowledged he wasn’t the only one going through emotional upheaval. Her own emotions were running amok.
She was falling in love with Adam Riley.
Problem was, she seriously doubted he’d ever allow himself the freedom of returning her love.
Chapter Thirteen
“You sure you’re up to this?” Lexi stopped outside the restaurant.
He smiled. “I think I can handle it.”
She bit her lip, uncertain. “They’re gonna ask questions, you understand?” If she could’ve canceled the dinner plans, she would have.
“We’ll answer them.”
She wasn’t convinced. “They’re persistent.” Damn persistent. Leona had insisted she come tonight.
He laughed out loud. “We’ll do fine.”
“You don’t mind?”
“I don’t mind.”
“Well…okay then. I suppose.”
“Lexi, it’s dinner, not the Spanish Inquisition.”
It might as well have been. Lexi was a bundle of nerves. She hadn’t told Daniel about Adam. What would she have said? Oh, by the way, I accidentally slept with your friend a few weeks ago? She hadn’t told Leona, either, for the same reason. Lee—remember how I said I didn’t meet Mr. Riley at the conference? Well…actually…
There’d be a deluge of questions at dinner. How would she deal with them? Should she come out with it and tell them all she’d fallen crazy, head over heels in love with him? Tell them that their spontaneous weekend away had been so incredible she had no choice? Tell them that Adam had bared his soul, and she’d given him hers in return? Probably not. She’d probably need to tell Adam all of that first.
Maybe she’d keep quiet and see where the conversation led.
“Come on then,” she said, resigned to her fate. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Daniel stood as they reached the table and shook Adam’s hand. “Lex, AJ. Good to see you.” He looked at Lexi with a raised eyebrow before introducing Adam to Amy, Leona, and Leona’s girlfriend, Annie.
Amy smiled at him. “I remember you from our wedding. Is that where you and Lexi met?”
“No. We met in Melbourne.”
“You did?” Leona shot Lexi a surprised look.
“Well, uh, we kind of bumped into each other there. I tripped and AJ caught me before I fell on my face. I didn’t know he was the man I’d been looking for.”
Amy’s eyes danced. “All your life?”
“No.” She shot her sister-in-law the evil eye. “For the previous six weeks.”
Amy bit her lips and tried unsuccessfully not to smile.
“Why were you looking for him?” Daniel asked.
“She wanted money,” Leona supplied helpfully.
“For what?” Annie asked.
“The sibling program.”
The four of them nodded in understanding.
“So,” Amy thought aloud, “you’d been looking for a man you’d never met before to ask him for money.”
“That sounds like my sister,” Daniel said. “She’s not shy, is she?”
Adam’s smile was unmistakable. “No,” he agreed, “she’s not shy at all.”
Heat crept into her cheeks.
“I hope she asked nicely,” Leona said to Adam. “She’s been known to shoot her mouth off.”
“I noticed that about her.” Adam pulled a chair out for Lexi.
“Should I leave so you can talk about me in private?” Lexi asked.
“No need,” Daniel assured her. “We can talk as easily with you here.”
Lexi humphed and sat beside Amy.
“So, AJ, how did she convince you to give her the money?” Leona wanted to know.
Adam took the seat on Lexi’s other side. “Let’s say she knew which strings to pull.” Under cover of the tablecloth, away from inquisitive eyes, he placed his hand on her thigh.
“Yeah, she’s good at that,” Daniel commiserated. “Talked me into doing the exhibition in about two minutes flat.”
“Hey, don’t complain,” Lexi warned. “The exhibition was a great opportunity for your career.”
Daniel looked at Amy. “I’m not complaining. The exhibition was a great opportunity, period.” The two of them shared an intimate, sexy smile.
The same kind of smile that Lexi and Adam had shared at sunset in the mountains. He was thinking of it, too. She knew because he squeezed her thigh gently and smiled at her.
“Were you at the exhibition, AJ?” Annie asked.
“I was. But not for long.”
“Lon
g enough to buy a few photos,” Daniel said.
Amy leaned in close and, without disrupting the conversation, said softly to Lexi, “He’s hot.”
“I know.” Hot with a capital H.
“I watched the two of you at the wedding.”
“Oh. Why?”
“You were arguing.”
“You noticed that?”
“Sparks were flying all over the place, Lex. It was hard not to notice.”
So much for trying to be discreet.
“From where I stood, I figured the argument would end one of two ways. You were either gonna kill him or sleep with him.” Amy grinned. “Dan and I took a bet on our honeymoon. My money was on the latter.”
“You took a bet?” she repeated, a little stunned.
Daniel leaned over his wife and whispered, “I had ten bucks riding on your killing him.”
Lexi shook her head in wonder. “You had nothing better to do on your honeymoon than make wagers on my sex life?”
Daniel grinned. “Oh, we found a minute or two to do other things.”
“Hey, what are you being so secretive about over there?” Leona asked.
“Amy and Daniel were telling me how they…struggled to find anything constructive to do on their honeymoon,” Lexi answered.
“Oh yeah,” Annie said with a laugh, “there’s a real dilemma for you.”
“Where did you go?” Adam brushed his hand along Lexi’s thigh.
“Hayman Island,” Daniel answered.
Lexi couldn’t suppress the delicious shiver that danced across her leg.
“I believe it’s beautiful there,” Adam said.
“Paradise,” Amy agreed.
“Do you have pictures?” Adam dragged his thumb dangerously close to the juncture of her legs.
“Not one,” Daniel said. “Amy wouldn’t let me bring my camera.”
“Hey,” Amy said, “if you’d brought it along, I wouldn’t have seen you the entire time. I had to protect my…interests.”
Lexi breathed a sigh of relief—or regret, she wasn’t entirely sure—as Adam’s hand slid back to her knee.
“Trust me,” Daniel told Amy, “I only ever had your best interests at heart.”
Leona whistled. “I bet you did.”
As everyone laughed, Amy leaned in close again and whispered to Lexi, “So did I win?”