by Rachel Lee
As soon as he caught her against his hard body, she looked up and saw the same fire in his gaze. He wanted her, just like he’d said, and the sight of his hunger, printed so clearly on his face, fueled hers like tinder in a fire.
Their eyes locked for one breathless instant. Then, without a word, he picked her up, eased her through the screen door, and headed up the stairs. This was going to be no kitchen-counter quickie. Her insides clenched with sheer passion.
She looped her arms around his neck, surrendering already, beyond caring about all the roadblocks she had tried to throw up. Whatever it cost, she was going to steal these moments from life, and she was damned if she would ever regret them.
At the top of the stairs he didn’t even hesitate. He carried her to the room he was using, thank goodness. The double bed in there would be ample and there was a line she wasn’t ready to cross in her own bed.
But the thought barely crossed her mind. More important things were building, like the rumblings just before a summer storm.
He said only one thing as he let her slide to her feet. “You won’t hate me?”
“Never.”
He searched her face briefly, then swooped in for a kiss. Nothing gentle and nothing sweet happened then. What had been suppressed for too long took charge. She pulled at his clothes. He pulled at hers.
The room filled with the sound of their heavy breathing, the sound of buttons and snaps popping. Clothes flew every which way, but Sharon was hardly aware of anything but the drive to be naked with him, to tumble onto the bed.
Then, suddenly it seemed, they were both nude.
“Let me look at you,” he said huskily.
For an instant, she nearly froze with embarrassment as he stepped back, but when she saw the look on his face, her shyness fled.
“Damn, you’re gorgeous.”
“So are you,” she said as she trailed her eyes over him. A fine physique, a little overdeveloped from all that working out, but fine nonetheless. And scars. She almost gasped as she saw them, but swallowed the sound. More than anything she feared she might drive him away. Not now. No way.
But the marks were there. The head injury might be invisible, but not the other wounds. He’d been shot. She hadn’t known that. He had slashing scars here and there, but she couldn’t guess what from. She’d ask later. Much later. Right now nothing could be allowed to come between them.
He paused long enough to pull out a condom and roll it on, then smiled almost sleepily at her.
“Turn for me?” he asked.
Feeling more confident now, she turned slowly for him, heard the sigh escape him. “You’re perfect.”
She didn’t think so, but all that mattered was what he thought. As she faced him again, she couldn’t resist cupping her own breasts as if offering them to him.
He groaned and reached for her instantly, carrying her down onto the bed with him.
There was absolutely no feeling on Earth like skin on skin. Nothing like legs tangling, arms wrapping, mouths meeting. Nothing like moans and sighs answered as the journey began.
Hearing him groan her name lifted her even higher. But even with their experience yesterday, the moment felt filled with hungry desperation. There was little finesse between them, just a passionate meeting and melding. Without warning, he lifted her to straddle him as he lay on his back. She didn’t hesitate. Reaching for his hardened staff, she took him into her, settling on him until he filled her completely, feeling that wonderful sense of stretching and fullness she hadn’t felt in so long. She threw her head back, savoring the exquisite sensation of intimate connection.
Then he gripped her arms and tugged. “Ride me,” he demanded.
She was only too happy to do it. Leaning forward until she was propped on her hands, she slid forward and back, felt him fill her again and again. The throbbing deep within her strengthened rapidly until it was so hard she ached with each new pulse.
His hands found her breasts, amplifying her pleasure as he kneaded her, brushing his thumbs over her nipples, drawing shudders and moans from her.
So fast, too fast, she was reaching the peak. Then he grabbed her naked hips, forcing her rhythm, carrying her to the highest peak so rapidly she felt she couldn’t catch her breath.
An instant later, she shattered in an orgasm so intense it tore a cry from her. As she started to sag, she felt him buck once more, then felt the unmistakable pulsation of his staff as he jetted into her.
An instant later she collapsed and was surrounded by his arms. Everything else vanished, except the slowly weakening throbbing in her body. And with each of those quieting throbs, a shiver passed through her.
She felt sated. Truly sated.
* * *
He rolled her off him gently. “Be right back,” he murmured, dropping a kiss on her lips.
She tried to hang on to his hand. A quiet chuckle escaped him. “There’s more, darlin’. Much more.”
Hazy, not quite drowsy, she lay on the coverlet while her body told her she was ready for more. Much more. All of it. All night, all day, never-ending more of Liam. It had been wild, basic, fast. She had never done that before, and it kind of amazed her that she had returned to elemental feeling so fast.
But she smiled into the empty room as she recalled the hot and ready way they had coupled. Basic, but perfect.
And he’d called her “darlin’.” She liked it. Nobody had ever called her that before. Not once. That was another special thing about Liam.
Before reality could intrude on the glow, he returned, tugged some more condoms out of his pack and threw them on the bedside table. She smiled again as she saw them.
Then he stretched out beside her, his head propped on his hand, and smiled at her.
“Gorgeous,” he said again.
As his gaze swept over her, she felt it like a physical touch. Nerve endings sizzled as if he had brushed his hands over her.
She looked him over, too, admiring him, and finally reached out to touch him, savoring the feel of his skin beneath her palms and fingers. She didn’t ask about the scars. None of that was going to shatter this precious feeling.
He sighed as she touched him, closing his eyes briefly before reaching out to reciprocate. His hand passed slowly over her every curve, as if he were memorizing her contours.
“Exquisite,” he murmured.
“So are you.”
He didn’t argue. For once he didn’t argue when she said something nice about him. That seemed like a total triumph to her, and as energy began to return to her limbs, she wanted him again. Now. Fast and furious.
But he didn’t seem in the mood for that. He took his time fondling her, awakening her again. First he explored her breasts, cupping their weight, giving a shuddering sigh as her nipples hardened. Then he bent his mouth to her, sucking at first gently on each nipple. When he lifted his head she felt the coolness of the air on the dampness, and it added to the building pleasure in her.
She didn’t want to push him, though. Men didn’t get ready again as soon as women did. She had read that.
But he didn’t seem to care. He ministered to her breasts until she felt herself spiraling upward again into passion. Just that and no more, yet she felt as if she were climbing that incredible mountain again, the summit coming closer with each pull of his mouth on her breasts.
When her hips finally rolled in response, he gave a quiet chuckle. A moment later, he rolled onto her, settling himself between her legs and making her feel so very open and vulnerable. Another shiver of delight passed through her as he smiled down at her.
“You’re one sexy woman.” His voice was low and husky.
He took her breast into his mouth again, this time nipping at her nipple and drawing a little cry from her.
“Definitely sexy.”
&nbs
p; Then, little by little he trailed his mouth downward, causing renewed shivers as he sprinkled kissed over her abdomen. Every part of her became so alive to his caresses that she felt like a bundle of total sensuality.
Instinctively she reached for his shoulders as he slid even lower. Her legs lifted, trying to wrap around him, her whole body needing to be as open as possible to him.
But he continued her torment, his hands reaching up to find her breasts as he continued to kiss and lick her belly. Her hips rocked upward again, needing deeper touches, deeper pressures, which he withheld. With each touch of his hands and mouth, she felt an opening deep inside her, a welcoming need for this man and everything he could both give and take from her.
She felt like a rose blooming in a rare desert rain. Opening, opening...
She wanted him in her again. Now. But he still withheld as he continued to quest with hands and mouth for every sensitive part of her. She couldn’t force him closer; he just kept on teasing her until she thought she would go out of her mind.
Finally she cried out his name. “Liam!”
For one heart-stopping instant everything halted. Then she felt him slide lower and wonder of wonders his fingers touched her petals, stroking them, parting them. A violent shudder of delight ripped through her and a long moan escaped her.
Oh, please, please...
Held in thrall by the passion he awoke so easily in her, she didn’t know if she begged out loud or only deep inside. Again and again his fingers brushed her so lightly it was maddening and thrilling all at once.
Her hips responded insistently, out of control. There was no control left in her, only hunger. “Please...” The sigh escaped her.
His hot, wet mouth found her most vulnerable place, the first lash of his tongue painful in its intensity. Another cry escaped her and she almost jerked away, but his hands gripped her hips, holding her. He seemed to be drinking from her, alternately sucking and licking that most sensitive nub. Each sensation fueled the conflagration he had unleashed in her. Aflame with desire, she felt as if she were riding a shooting star.
Completion came, so aching and deep it filled her entire body. Just as she was ready to sink back to Earth, his mouth went to work again, feeding the quieting throbbing until it was no longer quieting, but growing strong yet again. She couldn’t...she couldn’t...
But she did. With a powerful intensity she knew she would never forget, he brought her an orgasm that shattered her very being into a thousand flaming pieces.
At the final moment, she was helpless to do anything but cry his name.
* * *
Liam lay with his cheek on her belly, listening to the thunder of her pulse gradually subside as he tried to both hold her and shield her.
A kind of peace flowed through him, easing him in a way he hadn’t felt eased in a long time. He may have just made a huge mistake for both of them, but it was hard to care when he was feeling so good.
He had given Sharon a precious gift, something he had rarely ever wanted to give a woman. He could feel that gift pulsing through her, feel it in the limpness of her body, hear it in her ragged breathing.
Apparently, he wasn’t messed up that way, and it felt damn good. He could paint Sharon’s barn and house, and he could give her some great sex. It didn’t make him special or important, but it made him feel like a man again. All the other problems he’d been living with felt minuscule by comparison.
Damn, she was fantastic. Open and eager to whatever he offered, giving herself without reservation. How often did you find that? Not very.
Don’t toy with her.
Was that what he had just done? God, he hoped not. But it had been building between them. He saw it in her glances, sometimes written on her face, and he knew they were both trying to ignore it. Trying not to give in. Now they had given in, and by his estimation, whatever the price, this was going to stay with him as a wondrous time he would never regret. Never.
He could have stayed like this forever.
It wouldn’t be enough, though. His chest ached as he thought about it, knowing that you couldn’t build a life on a fairy-tale experience. She needed a whole man, not a messed up one who would only make her life harder.
He’d deal with that later. He just knew he’d been wanting her almost since the first instant he clapped eyes on her. Wanting her in a way that simply wouldn’t subside or be ignored.
She had said she wanted him, too. And like some kind of idiot, he had thought that quickie yesterday would put it to rest for both of them. Needs satisfied, they could go on without the constant yearning.
How wrong he’d been. His taste for her had simply grown even bigger, and apparently hers had, too.
Damn, he wanted to cling to her right now and pretend tomorrow would never come. But it always came. Good or bad, it always came. Reality would return.
But for right now, he could banish it.
“Liam?”
She breathed his name. Hearing it, he lifted his head.
“Hold me,” she said huskily.
So he slid up over her, turned on his side and drew her into his arms, throwing one leg over hers.
“That was fantastic,” she whispered.
“It sure was.”
“I didn’t know I could...could...”
Damn, she was blushing. “Never before?” he asked, absolutely delighted. He was sure a sappy grin creased his face.
“I thought only other women could do that...”
“Wow.” That amazed him. Of course, he could understand why she might not know. He was feeling sleepy enough for two men right now. It would have been easy to doze off right after their first round, and only a desire to please her had kept him going.
She tipped her head and kissed his cheek. Then she giggled. “You smell like me.”
“Can’t imagine why.”
That unleashed another giggle.
“Want me to go wash?”
“Don’t you dare move.” She burrowed closer into his embrace until her head rested on his shoulder. Her arm wound around his waist. “You can add this to the list of things that make you wonderful.”
He liked the sound of that a whole lot. “It’s not much...”
She reached up to lay a finger over his lips. “We’re not going to do that. Not now. How are you?”
“Frankly? I’m happy. I can’t ever remember feeling this happy.”
“That’s a sweet thing to say.”
“A true one.” Which was probably a sad comment on his entire life, but definitely true. He gave her a gentle squeeze.
“I feel weak as a kitten,” she remarked.
“Then sleep.”
“I don’t want to sleep. I don’t want to waste a minute with you.”
Alarm bells clanged, but his current contentment muted them. He had a lot of experience living in the moment. Combat had taught that lesson quickly. Tomorrow would come or it wouldn’t. In this case it probably would since he didn’t expect any incoming rounds, but tomorrow was soon enough to deal with any fallout from this.
He certainly wasn’t going to waste right now on things that hadn’t happened yet, that might not happen. Just take the good that life offered because you never knew when it might offer something good again.
It had been a long, sleepless night for both of them. He barely realized that he was falling asleep before it carried him away.
* * *
Sharon lay awake a little longer, watching him sleep, feeling the growing need for some sleep herself, but she fought it off as long as she could. He had shown her a piece of heaven, and she wanted to replay every single instant in her mind repeatedly, as if to engrave it so that not a single moment would ever be forgotten.
But she was exhausted from the long night, and pleasantly so from
their lovemaking, and no matter how hard she fought it off, sleep claimed her. She slipped into wonderful dreams of golden fields, blue sky and sunshine.
* * *
“Liam!”
The sharp cry woke him from a dark nightmare to a late golden afternoon. He sat up instantly, alert, ready for anything.
“Liam!”
It was hard, but he yanked himself out of that dark place into the present to see a naked Sharon kneeling beside him, looking at him with concern.
“You were having a terrible nightmare,” she said. “Are you all right?”
“No.” He closed his eyes, then reopened them. He stumbled out of the bed and began grabbing his clothes.
“Liam?”
“Damn it, Sharon, I held Chet in my arms while he died!”
He jammed his feet into socks and boots and headed for the door.
“Don’t run away from this. Don’t you dare!”
He just kept going.
* * *
Sharon struggled into her clothes, her fingers misbehaving on every button. He’d held Chet while he died. God! But he better not head for the hills, not now. They had to deal with this. Both of them.
Feeling shaky, she stumbled downstairs at last, afraid she would see no sign of him. She about panicked when he wasn’t in the kitchen or living room, but then she saw him standing out on the front porch. At least he hadn’t taken off.
The screen door creaked as she stepped outside. She said nothing, but simply went to stand beside him. When the silence had stretched forever, and the sun had disappeared behind the nearby mountains, a chill crept into the air.
She was losing him. Somehow she had to draw him back. Somehow.
“You said it was instantaneous.” She hated the almost accusatory tone, but it made him stir. Until that moment he had been as still as stone.
“It was, for him. He never woke up. It was longer for me.”
“Oh, God.” Her hand flew to her mouth, and she bit her knuckle.
“I tried to save him. I tried, I swear. But nothing was working, and when our medic reached us, he tried, too. Nothing worked. So finally I just held him. Nobody wants to die alone.”