Michael's Discovery

by Sherryl Woods

  On Thursday he wheeled himself into the rehab center with a renewed sense of confidence and purpose. Kelly seemed to sense the change in attitude, because she studied him with a quizzical expression as he hefted himself out of the chair and onto the parallel bars without being asked.

  “I gather you’re ready to start,” she said, a spark of amusement in her eyes.

  “I am,” he said firmly. “Back up.”

  She hesitated. “I think it’s better if I stay here.”

  He scowled until she finally shrugged and backed away, leaving nothing to impede him should he actually be able to manage to walk the entire length of the parallel bars. Gritting his teeth, Michael took the first step. It was actually easier than it had been at his apartment without any solid support to cling to. His confidence grew with the second step and then the third.

  “Michael, don’t push too hard,” Kelly warned as he kept coming. “You don’t want another injury now.”

  “I’m not going to fall,” he insisted, his voice tight as he tried to gauge the remaining steps. Four, maybe. Three, if he could lengthen his stride to something better than these shuffling half steps. He sighed. Maybe he’d better settle for baby steps, as exasperating as that was. It was better than falling flat on his butt at her feet.

  He noted that despite her warning, she hadn’t rushed forward to cut him off, but she was holding her breath.

  “You know, if you don’t let out that breath you’re holding, you’re going to turn blue,” he admonished lightly.

  She sighed. “Sorry. I’m just afraid you’re moving too fast.”

  He snorted at that. “I’ve seen snails move faster.”

  “You know what I mean, Michael.”

  All the while they bickered over whether or not he was overexerting himself, he kept moving forward with his awkward, shuffling gait. And then he was there, toe-to-toe with her, close enough to see the spark of admiration in her eyes, despite the admonitions tripping from her lips.

  His legs were protesting the strain he’d put on them. His powerful arms were the only things keeping him upright, which meant he had to get through this next part in a hurry. Still standing, he met her gaze.

  “Have dinner with me tomorrow night,” he suggested.

  She blinked rapidly. “What?”

  “It’s not a difficult concept. I asked you to have dinner with me.”

  “Why?”

  He grinned at her reaction. “The usual reasons. Man meets woman. Man is attracted to woman. He asks her on a date. That is how it goes, isn’t it? I’m not that much out of touch.” He shrugged, trying not to make too much out of it. “Besides, I think we’re past due for a celebration. You certainly deserve one for putting up with me all this time.”

  “Tomorrow’s Friday,” she pointed out.

  Michael grinned. “I know that.”

  “You usually go to the pub on Fridays, and I told you how I feel about going there.”

  “You don’t want to give my family any ideas about the two of us,” he recited. “I know that, too. This is a date, Kelly. I’m asking you out on an honest-to-goodness date. No pub. No family. Just the two of us. You’ll have to drive, but other than that I’m in charge for a change. We’ll go wherever you want. Someplace fancy with candlelight and good wine. I’m afraid dancing’s out, but who knows, maybe I’ll buy you a corsage.”

  She laughed then. “Nobody buys corsages except for proms.”

  “Too much?”

  “Definitely.”

  “Champagne, then. What do you say?”

  She took so long answering that he thought she might actually turn him down, but finally she nodded. “I would love to go to dinner with you, Michael. What time should I pick you up?”

  “Seven sound okay?”

  “Perfect,” she agreed more eagerly. “I’ll pick the place and make a reservation.”

  He shook his head. “Tell me. I’ll call. I need to remember how it’s done.”

  “I think it will all come back to you fairly quickly,” she said wryly.

  Her belief that he’d been a bit of a scoundrel was very flattering, but the truth had been something else entirely. Before joining the navy, he hadn’t wanted to get distracted by a woman. During his years as a SEAL, the unpredictability of his life had kept him from getting too close. His relationships had been hot and steamy for a time, but there wasn’t one he could look back on as being remotely meaningful.

  “This is different,” he told her with total sincerity.

  “How? Because it’s been so long?”

  “No.” He met her gaze and felt the familiar thunder of his pounding heart. “Because it’s you.”

  Because it’s you. Because it’s you.

  Kelly couldn’t seem to stop Michael’s words from echoing through her head. What had he meant? It had almost sounded as if he was genuinely worried about getting it right because she mattered to him in some way all the other women had not.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she muttered as she tossed aside what had to be the tenth outfit she’d tried on. She had deliberately picked an informal restaurant, despite Michael’s offer of champagne. He was still taking occasional pain medications and had no business drinking more than the occasional beer he indulged in with his pizza at home. Besides, her wardrobe was far more suited to casual than fancy.

  Even so, she couldn’t seem to find a blasted thing in her closet that satisfied her. She finally settled for a sage-green cotton sweater that somehow made her gray eyes seem more the soft green of jade. She added a pair of camel-colored wool slacks and a gold locket that her mother had given her for her thirteenth birthday. Inside, still, was a tiny picture of Michael she’d clipped from a snapshot that had been taken of him and Bryan on a trip to Cape Cod that summer. She’d kept that locket in her jewelry box for years, but something told her tonight was a perfect night to bring it out again. Of course, if he happened to ask what was inside, she’d probably die of embarrassment.

  Michael’s exuberant mood from Thursday afternoon had faded by the time she arrived to pick him up. His face was tight with pain. She took one look at him, assessed that he was paying for having overdone it the day before, and firmly closed the door behind her.

  “Did you take your pain medication?” she asked as she moved briskly past him and headed for the kitchen where he kept the pills.

  He shook his head.

  She whirled on him. “Dammit, Michael, that’s what the medication’s for.”

  “Who said I was in pain?” he snapped.

  The man’s determination to be a stoic no matter the cost exasperated her beyond belief. She regarded him with amusement. “Are you saying you’re not?”

  “No more than usual,” he insisted.

  “Okay, then, get on your feet and let’s get out of here.”

  The withering look he shot her would have terrified most people. Kelly simply stood there and waited.

  “Okay, dammit, get the pill,” he said, his voice tight with fury. “Just one.”

  She brought back the pill and a glass of water. “Why don’t I fix dinner right here?”

  He shook his head. “Absolutely not. I promised you a celebration.”

  “Michael, we can celebrate right here. It’s private. The refrigerator’s well stocked. I can whip something up in no time.”

  “It doesn’t seem like much of a date.”

  “It works for me.”

  His gaze searched hers. “You really wouldn’t mind?”

  “Being alone with you? Hardly,” she said lightly, then fled to the kitchen before he could react.

  She heard the whispered glide of his wheelchair as she was pulling dishes from the cabinet, then the locking sound of the brake. When she finally turned around, Michael was struggling to his feet.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded, starting forward.

  “Stay where you are,” he commanded.

  “But—”

  “Just this once, do what I ask,” he
said, slowly walking toward her. “And set those dishes down.”

  She regarded him with confusion. “Why?”

  “Because if I do this right, you’ll just wind up dropping them,” he said, his expression solemn.

  Filled with a sudden rush of anticipation, Kelly set the dishes down with a thump just before Michael drew her into his arms. He tucked a finger under her chin, searched her face intently, then lowered his mouth to cover hers.

  Tenderness exploded into urgent need. Years of pent-up longing gave way to the thrill of satisfaction as Michael’s kiss turned dark and dangerous. This was the way a man kissed a woman he wanted, Kelly thought as her senses went spinning.

  “I want you,” he murmured against her lips. “I’d intended to do this right. A little wining and dining the way you deserve, then trying to coax you back here and into my bed. If it’s a lousy idea, tell me now.”

  Kelly could barely breathe, barely think, her heart was pounding so hard. “It’s the best idea you’ve had in years,” she said with conviction.

  “Dinner?”

  “I’ll turn off the oven.” She met his gaze. “Condoms?”

  He grinned at that. “In the nightstand.”

  “Which means we have to get to your bedroom,” she said.

  For an instant, he looked uneasy. “The gallant thing would be to carry you,” he said.

  She glanced toward the wheelchair. “I could always ride in your lap.”

  For an instant, she thought he might refuse her out of stubborn pride, but then apparently the possibilities began to intrigue him. He sat and she settled into place, wriggling a bit in the process.

  “Watch it,” he warned.

  She regarded him with deliberate innocence. “Am I bothering you?”

  “Sweetheart, you’ve been bothering me since the first day you walked through my front door all full of sass and determination.”

  “Is that so?” she asked, pleased. “Then your patience is amazing.”

  “I thought so.”

  The trip to the bedroom took a whole lot longer than it needed to, simply because Kelly did her best to bother him along the way.

  “Game’s over,” he said when they were beside the bed.

  Kelly met his gaze, let the heat between them build to a slow simmer, then shook her head. “No, Michael. It’s just beginning.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Over recent months, Kelly thought she’d learned just about everything there was to know about Michael’s body. After all, she’d massaged him, she’d seen his undeniable reaction to her touches. She knew the power of his shoulders and arms, the slowly fading scars on his legs, the less visible scars from old injuries he’d refused to discuss. But all of that had been different. She’d forced herself to hold back, to try not to react to him as a woman. She’d been at least moderately successful.

  Now, however, she was able to give free rein to her curiosity, to caress his hard muscles and explore his body far more intimately than prior prudence had allowed.

  In the bedroom, he shifted from the wheelchair to the edge of the bed. Kelly knelt beside him and tugged his dress shirt free from his slacks. For the first time, she realized how much care he’d taken with his appearance tonight.

  “It’s almost a shame to get you out of this,” she said, even as she began undoing the buttons. “You look incredibly handsome. The blue matches your eyes.”

  “Is that so?” he said, as if it were a surprise and of little consequence. Instead, his intense gaze seemed to find the quick work she was making of his buttons fascinating. “You’re awfully good at that.”

  “What, this?” she asked innocently, as she slowly spread the flaps of his shirt apart, then helped him shrug out of it. Then she slipped her fingers under the edge of his white T-shirt, her knuckles grazing warm, supple skin. She took her time lifting the soft cotton shirt higher and higher, allowing herself the titillating pleasure of a slow, deliberate revelation of his bare chest with its swirls of dark, crisp hair.

  Tossing aside the T-shirt with its fresh laundry scent, she bent to press a kiss to his skin. The heat seemed to come off of him in waves. She was half-surprised it didn’t sear her lips. As if it might, she kept her mouth moving, tasting him, peppering little kisses across his shoulders and the base of his throat. She could hear the hitch in his breath, feel the pounding of his heart under her palm. Knowing that she could make Michael respond to her was amazing. She had never felt more desirable in her entire life.

  Still contemplating the wonder of his reaction, she gasped when his arm suddenly circled her waist and he lifted her around to stand between his legs.

  “My turn,” he announced, his gaze hot as he lifted the soft green sweater over her head. The action tousled her hair, but he reached up with total concentration and gently smoothed it back into place, his touch lingering on her cheeks.

  “You’re so soft,” he whispered, his voice husky and filled with something that might have been awe.

  What could have been an agony of indecision raced across his face, before he met her gaze. “This could be a bad idea.”

  Kelly immediately guessed his concern. Touched that he had let his need for her supercede his vulnerability, she reached for him, feeling the hard press of his arousal through his slacks.

  “It doesn’t seem like such a bad idea to me,” she reassured him.

  “I’m not exactly agile,” he said, sounding suddenly angry and defensive, reactions more in keeping with a man who was putting his masculinity to the ultimate test, rather than an injured leg that had affected only his mobility.

  She grinned and smoothed away the furrow in his brow. “But I am,” she said. “Lay back and enjoy it, Devaney. Everything works that needs to work.”

  Heat and yearning glinted in his eyes. “You surprise me.”

  “Glad to hear it,” she said, already fumbling for the buckle of his belt.

  Michael covered her hands and stilled them. “Slow down. There are a few things I know I can still do,” he said, regarding her with renewed eagerness. “Then you can take over.”

  Swift, sure hands swept over her breasts, releasing the front hook on her bra in the blink of an eye. Michael smoothed away the scraps of lace, his smoldering gaze steady as he surveyed her.

  “You are so gorgeous,” he whispered, his voice satisfyingly husky. A wry grin tugged at his lips. “And I keep waiting for your brother to come charging in here to smash my face in.”

  Kelly chuckled. “Not an image to dwell on. Besides,” she reassured him, “I have it on very good authority that his time is otherwise occupied tonight.”

  “Moira?”

  “Moira. They’re a hot item, thanks to us.”

  Michael grinned. “Well, good for us,” he said, then closed his mouth over the tip of her breast.

  The action sent a jolt of fire straight through her. Conversation died, lost to a rising tide of sensation that threatened to pull Kelly under, gasping for breath and clinging to Michael like a lifeline.

  He might claim not to be agile, but he had more than enough moves to sweep her off her feet and onto a roller-coaster ride that left her feeling exhilarated and needy as they raced for the precipice and then, finally, at long last plunged over the edge in a giddy, amazing descent that had her screaming out with the wonder of it.

  This was what she’d waited for her whole life, Kelly thought as the satisfying shudders slowly faded and contentment settled in. This was what sex was meant to be when two people really, truly connected on every conceivable level. This was what people meant when they talked about sex being transformed into making love.

  And now that she’d discovered it, there was no way in hell she would ever let it go.

  Michael woke up sometime later feeling astonishingly rested and satisfied in the way a man only felt after rambunctious, steamy sex. Okay, it hadn’t been all that rambunctious, but it had been a helluva ride. And Kelly had ridden him over the brink, astonishing him with her abandon.
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  Discovering that he was still able to please a woman in bed did more for Michael’s recovery than all the other therapy Kelly had provided. He’d needed not just the physical release, but the reassurance that his diminished agility hadn’t really reduced him to a shell of the man he’d once been, at least not in one important facet of his life. He’d known all along that his assumptions about himself were exaggerated and based on fear, not common sense, but until now he hadn’t been able to let go of them. Now, he thought, he was finally ready to move on, put his weaknesses into perspective and work to overcome them.

  So what if he couldn’t scramble up the side of an enemy ship with the quickness of a cat? So what if he’d never again run at a sprinter’s pace? In time he would eventually be able to do most physical activities at a level equal to that of many civilians. And even now, when his first steps were still awkward and tortured, he’d been able to do the horizontal mambo in a more than satisfactory manner. If he could bring pleasure to Kelly—and himself—then complaining about the rest seemed pointless.

  He had pleased her, too. There was no mistaking the flare of heat in her eyes, the soft moans of pleasure, the quick, urgent thrusts of her hips as they’d climbed higher and higher before tumbling together into a stormy sea of sensations.

  He’d also read something else in her eyes, something he wasn’t entirely sure how to interpret, something that terrified him. While he’d been selfishly grabbing at the one act guaranteed to reassure him that he was still a man, he suspected Kelly had been turning her long-ago crush into a full-fledged love affair. Though what had just happened between them had been incredible—inevitable, even—he wasn’t quite ready to pin a label on it. He certainly wasn’t ready to build a future around it.

  Okay, maybe he was jumping the gun. Maybe Kelly was no more anxious for marriage and commitment than he was. Maybe she was perfectly capable of handling a torrid affair that stemmed from all the restless heat simmering between them for weeks now.

  He glanced over at her tousled hair, her rosy cheeks and innocent expression and muttered a curse under his breath. No way was this woman ready for a torrid, meaningless affair. No way did she deserve anything less than happily-ever-after. And deep down, in a place he’d been trying to avoid examining too closely, he wanted to give her that. He just wasn’t sure he could, not until he had answers to all the questions still burning in his gut.