by J. S. Scott
Except for the few times she’d lost herself in Dante, she’d never done anything spontaneous or without thinking of the future consequences.
“Walk with me,” Dante’s husky voice demanded from the kitchen entrance.
Sarah turned and looked at him, his outstretched hand waiting for her to grab it.
Take this time with him. Live in the moment and take whatever happiness you can get.
Looking into his turbulent gaze, Sarah knew he wanted to go out for a walk simply because they could. John was dead; the threat was over. They could go walk out on his private beach without worrying about constantly looking over their shoulders.
She didn’t debate the right and wrong of what she was doing, thinking only with her heart as she took his hand.
They walked out onto the beach with Coco following behind, talking about absolutely nothing important. Both of them laughed as Coco approached the lapping waves warily, as though they were the enemy, and then watched them retreat with a brave bark every time the water moved backward, as though the canine had scared the enemy away. Dante helped Sarah make a sand castle, a first for her, which ended up looking more like just a big pile of mud than anything resembling a fortress, but Sarah was proud of it anyway . . . until Coco decided to run across the top of the pile, throwing both her and Dante into a fit of laughter.
Sarah’s heart ached every time Dante gave her a lingering kiss. Some of his caresses were meant to brand her, and some were just cherishing strokes of his lips against hers, as though he was still trying to assure himself that she was beside him. Sarah saved up every one of those embraces, fixing them in her memory and keeping them close to her heart.
Dante shared some of his more amusing stories about growing up with his siblings, tales that didn’t include his abusive father or emotionally vacant mother.
They all protected each other.
Every story concluded with one sibling bailing another one out of trouble. They might have teased the hell out of each other, but they’d always come to the rescue in the end.
“I always wished that I had a brother or sister,” Sarah told him wistfully as they stumbled back into the house, wet and caked with sand.
“Your mother never came close to getting married again?” Dante asked curiously.
“No,” Sarah replied thoughtfully. “She never even dated. Everything was about my education.”
She and Dante stepped back outside the door, deciding to shed their jeans to keep from dropping mud through the house.
They ran upstairs to shower, Dante grumbling when Sarah sent him to his own bathroom. “No stress today,” she told him sternly as she walked toward the guest bathroom. “That includes any type of exertion,” she called back over her shoulder, knowing he’d understand that “exertion” equaled sex.
He didn’t follow, but she felt his eyes on her as she went to the guest room and closed the door.
The window of Dante’s bedroom was open, but the soothing sounds of the ocean weren’t helping him tonight. Sleep was eluding him, and he knew exactly why.
I can’t sleep without her.
Dante rolled over onto his back with an annoyed grunt. Knowing Sarah was sleeping in the guest room right down the hall was making him nearly insane.
There’s nothing worse than being obsessed with a female who’s a damn doctor!
She’d insisted, lecturing him about the need for sleep and recovery time because of his head injury.
I have a head as hard as a damn bowling ball. I don’t need to sleep alone and I don’t want to sleep alone.
Granted, he probably could have seduced her, made her want to come to his bed, but he hadn’t done it. She’d threatened to leave his ass and go back home if he didn’t behave.
Like hell she will.
However, just the thought of not having her close to him was enough to make him back off. After dinner, they’d spent a lazy evening together, Sarah eventually wandering to the piano to play. Dante wasn’t that familiar with classical music, but he didn’t need to be. He picked up on her emotions immediately: everything she played was broody and dark. Something was bothering her and he didn’t know how to fix it. She’d nearly killed him with her open sobs of fear and pain last night in the hospital, and he’d tried to absorb every bit of it as she wept, hoping he’d never see her that upset again. But it was something different this time. She didn’t appear frightened, but Dante couldn’t seem to put a finger on what exactly was causing her to appear so unusually fragile. He didn’t like it.
She seemed . . . almost sad, melancholy. He shouldn’t have left her alone, but he’d been afraid that she would bolt, and he couldn’t really object to her leaving anymore because her life wasn’t in danger.
She’s free to do whatever she wants.
While that fact should make him happy, it actually scared the shit out of him. Yeah. Okay. He was glad that she was out of danger and wasn’t stuck indoors anymore because it made her unhappy. But the thought of her actually leaving, going back to a life without him, made him completely crazy.
So, here he was, staring up at the ceiling while a woman he wanted more than anything else in the world was sleeping in the guest room down the hall. Dante figured having her close was better than having her gone completely.
It’s bullshit.
He’d never been the type of guy to settle for anything, and it was irritating the shit out of him that he was doing it now. Truth was . . . the thought of losing her shook him to the core.
So I’m going to lie here all night and stare at the damn ceiling?
What he really should have done was fuse her to him so completely that she’d never be able to shake him off. When had he ever let fear stop him?
When have I ever had this much to lose?
He hadn’t. Not ever. Honestly, he was a hell of a lot more comfortable chasing murderers than dealing with the possibility that Sarah might leave him and never come back.
Not happening!
Dante rolled out of bed with a combination of apprehension and determination. His stubbornness and persistence weren’t going to allow him to just lie here anymore. If necessary, he’d be the biggest pain in the ass Sarah Baxter had ever dealt with before. She wouldn’t be able to ignore him.
Dante grinned wickedly as he opened the door and headed down the hall to Sarah’s room, where he grasped the handle and let himself into the bedroom. After closing her door quietly, he leaned back against it. Her bedroom windows were open, illuminating the figure on the bed with a dim glow. What he saw made him freeze instantly in place, unable to tear his eyes from the sight in the middle of the mattress.
Sarah was awake, her head thrown back, eyes closed, and her hand between her thighs. Dressed in a short baby doll nightgown, she looked like a fiery seductress in red and black, the minuscule panties that matched the ensemble on the floor beside the bed.
He watched, fists clenched, as she rubbed her clit harder and harder, whimpering his name quietly. Her head tossed on the pillow, sending curling waves of hair over her face.
Jesus Christ!
He held his breath as he watched her reach for her climax, desperate to get there.
She’s fantasizing about me, thinking about me making her come.
Dante was torn between seeing if she found fulfillment and helping her. Part of him wanted to be an observer, to watch the carnal, erotic sight right in front of him until she shattered. But his cock was a demanding little bastard, and he wanted her right now, needed to see her break into little pieces that scattered around him as he buried himself to his balls and they lost themselves to each other.
He let out the breath he’d been holding, making his final decision as she stopped touching herself with a muted cry of frustration and pulled a pillow over her head, unsatisfied.
She’s still learning her own body, exploring herself.
And Dante would be damned if he’d let her feel like she had failed.
He crawled onto the bed and uncovered her face. “Try
harder,” he demanded, grabbing the hem of the sexy nightgown and yanking it up over her head. It landed on the floor before she could ever say a word. “Touch your nipples.” He threaded his fingers through hers on the hand next to her pussy and guided their conjoined hands between her thighs.
“Dante, I can’t—”
She sounded mortified that he’d seen her trying to make herself come, and Dante wanted to tell her not to be ashamed, that it was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. Instead, he decided to show her. “You can. Touch yourself,” he commanded, saturating their joined fingers between her folds before he started guiding her fingers to circle her clit. She was already hot and wet, and their fingers slid easily together around the pulsating bud, forcing a cry from her lips.
He grasped her other hand and placed it on her breast. “Tease yourself,” he instructed firmly, gratified when he saw her hand start plucking and caressing her nipples, moving from one to the other. “You look so beautiful right now, sweetheart. Make yourself come,” he said harshly into her ear.
“I tried,” she panted. “It felt good, but I couldn’t—”
Dante forced her first two fingers to cover her clit, pushing hard to make her put more pressure on the sensitive nub. “Rub harder.”
Dante watched her face as his hand helped her pleasure herself. Somehow, this was almost more intimate than fucking her, watching her open and vulnerable as she started to climb higher and higher. Her eyes closed again, and she tossed her head back, her hips starting to rise from the bed to meet the pressure of their fingers rubbing against her clit.
“Imagine my head between your thighs, my tongue devouring your pussy,” he croaked into her ear.
Jesus. That was exactly where he wanted to be right now. But now was Sarah’s time.
“Yes. That feels so good,” she moaned with abandon.
He watched, mesmerized, as her body tensed and her back began to arch, her moans filling the room as their joined fingers moved urgently, roughly over her clit. She was pinching her nipples now, and her body was starting to tremble.
Dante tightened his fingers with hers, looking down to see the erotic vision of their joined hands getting her off.
“Come, Sarah. Let go,” he encouraged urgently, waiting.
She climaxed with a strangled moan. “Dante.”
His heart swelled as she splintered moaning his name, and he kissed her, trying to capture his name on her lips.
Her body stilled, and her ass and back came down to meet the mattress, the only sound in the room her labored breaths.
At that moment, Dante felt closer to her than he ever had.
Mine.
He was desperate to pull her even tighter to him, mold them together so nothing and no one would ever be able to pull them apart. “I need you,” he told her huskily.
She went up on her hands and knees, looking down at him with adoring eyes. “I need you, too. But you can’t exert yourself.”
“Then make love to me, Sarah.” He rolled onto his back, waiting. He watched her for a minute, holding his breath.
“How?” she breathed softly.
He grabbed her thigh and swung it over his body. “Like this.” He seated her over his cock. “Ride me. I’ll let you set the pace.” He ground his teeth as he felt her indecision, and let out a sigh of relief as she grasped his cock and lined it up at her entrance. “Join us,” he ground out, feeling like he’d lose his mind if he didn’t get inside her wet heat right that second.
Taking him in slowly, Sarah lowered herself onto his cock with a ragged moan.
Dante grasped the sheets beside him, trying to keep from grasping her hips and taking control, but he let her swivel her hips as she seated him inside her, throwing her head back in ecstasy. “Yes. You feel so deep, so hard.”
“Fuck me,” he groaned in an urgent voice, needing her to move.
She braced her hands on his shoulders and started to move, slowly at first, up and down, grinding her pelvis against him every time she took him deeply inside her. Unable to stop himself, he put a hand around the back of her neck and brought her mouth to his, spearing his tongue into her mouth in a silent demand. She tasted like mint and lust, the combination about to drive him completely out of his mind.
“Help me,” Sarah pleaded in a whisper as he released her mouth. “I want this to feel good to you.”
Dante groaned as he felt her hard nipples abrading his chest. “Baby, if it felt any better, I’d be dead.” He was a dominant in the bedroom, and he didn’t usually screw this way, but with Sarah, it felt natural, right. He inhaled her intoxicating scent, let it surround him as she moved slowly up and down on his cock, gloving him in her tight, wet heat.
She sat up, her hands traveling over his chest, her short fingernails biting into his abdomen, and she left her hands there to stay in a completely seated position.
Unable to take the torment any longer, he grasped her hips and thrust himself up inside of her, meeting her every downward stroke.
“Yes,” she cried as Dante took control, holding her hips as he stroked upward, trying to get as deep as possible.
Her body tensed, and Dante knew the moment that she imploded, her channel clenching down on his cock as the walls pulsated, milking him. He thrust one more time and released himself deep inside her with a groan, his body shuddering from the intensity of his orgasm.
“Fuck,” he rasped, pulling Sarah down on top of him, wrapping his arms around her trembling, perspiration-soaked body.
She’s mine, and nobody is ever going to take her away from me.
“So much for you not exerting yourself,” Sarah whispered in his ear with a hint of amusement in her voice.
Dante ran a hand through her thick curls. “Way too much temptation,” he answered hoarsely.
“I didn’t mean for you to see—”
“Don’t be embarrassed. There’s nothing wrong with what you were doing. Sweetheart, there’s a whole lot more to sensual pleasure than just mating for the species,” he told her emphatically.
She laughed delightedly. “I think I figured that out from the moment you touched me,” she answered, her voice still choked with laughter.
Dante cuddled her body on top of his, smiling. God, how he adored this woman. This warm, courageous, intelligent, beautiful woman who still retained her sense of humor and sweetness after all she’d been through. “Spend time with me. Not because you have to, but because you want to,” he said, unable to totally keep a pleading tone from his voice. He and Sarah had been thrown together with him as her protector. Now he wanted her with him by choice.
I want her to choose me.
She was silent for a moment, her head on his shoulder, and Dante almost wondered if she had fallen asleep. “Okay,” she finally agreed in a soft whisper.
The tension left Dante’s body, and his arms tightened reflexively around her. Maybe her answer wasn’t as enthusiastic as he wanted it to be, but just having her agree was enough. For now.
She moved off his body, slowly sliding to his side. He brought her soft, warm body next to his, and they were both asleep moments later.
CHAPTER 19
“What are you looking at?” Dante strolled over to Sarah as he devoured the last of his lobster roll.
Sarah stood outside of the last house on Main Street, looking into the window. “I like this shop.”
The monstrous old home at the very end of the street was aged and weathered, the paint peeling on the outside, but every time she stepped into Mara Ross’s shop, she could feel the sense of history that clung to the home. Dolls and Things was a lovely, eclectic store, and Sarah adored it.
“Let’s go in,” Dante suggested, wrapping an arm around her waist.
Sarah shrugged. “I never buy anything. I just like the store.” She looked at the dolls in the window, noticing her favorite—a large, blonde Victorian doll with blue eyes and a red velvet dress—still hadn’t sold.
Dante pulled open the door and held it for her. Sar
ah went in, shooting him a broad smile as she passed through the entrance.
She browsed around, examining the art on the walls and the expert craftsmanship of some of the dolls. Mara Ross had taken over the store from her mother when she’d died a year or so ago, keeping the tradition of having a doll maker in the town of Amesport. The skill had been passed down for several generations. Sarah didn’t hurry as she looked at the new additions, a habit that she’d developed after spending the last week in Dante’s company. It had been the happiest week of her life.
Dante had taught her how to do things just for the fun of doing them, and he’d seemed to enjoy it just as much as she did. They took long walks together and sat out on the beach for hours just to absorb the feel and the sound of the ocean. Dante had gotten himself a bike, and they’d ridden most of the bike trails in the area, stopping whenever they felt like exploring. Unfortunately, Dante still hadn’t gotten over his insistence that she wear her protective gear, but at least he’d given up on the jeans and long-sleeved shirts after Sarah had complained about suffocating in them with the weather so warm.
She played his massive piano at night, or they messed around with some children’s games that were probably better suited to grade school kids. But Sarah had enjoyed every minute of it. She’d cut her work schedule light so she’d have more time to spend with Dante, knowing all the while that it was going to make saying good-bye to him even harder. Strangely, she wouldn’t trade a moment of their time together, though. It had been a magical, relaxing week.
When she’d finished work today, they’d had a latte at Brew Magic and strolled down Main Street like curious tourists. They hadn’t rushed, checking out every shop that caught their interest. Dante hadn’t been able to resist grabbing a lobster roll—or three. Sarah was pretty sure he was completely addicted.
He’s going to miss those when he’s gone.
She quickly shook off the thought, determined to not think about tomorrow, to keep living in the moment.
She still hadn’t moved back into her cottage, even though it had been refurnished and it was ready. Somehow, she couldn’t seem to resist spending every night with Dante. His body was like an addictive drug, and every night with him was different. Sometimes he liked it rough, sometimes it was sensual, and there were moments when it was so tender that it touched her soul. Every single time, it rocked her world.