“I know.” He sat beside her, leaving a few inches of duvet between them. “And it is what I want. It’s just hard to get my head around, that’s all.”
She nodded. It was hard to take in. In the past hour they’d crossed a line they hadn’t been able to push past for over six months. She opened her mouth to say something, but was distracted as every light blacked out.
“Shit,” John muttered, getting to his feet. “Should have predicted that.”
While he headed downstairs to light the various candles dotted around the house, she moved to her side of the bed and looked out the window. As far as she could see, the blackout wasn’t limited to their house.
She grabbed the torch that was under the bed and flicked it on. The light bounced off the walls and fell on the wooden corner of a photo frame on her nightstand. She reached out, tugging the frame from where it was hidden behind a pile of books. The light from the torch illuminated the picture of her and John. She ran her thumb over the glass of the frame, tracing the flow of her wedding dress. She’d fallen in love with that gown when she’d first seen it in New York on a trip home. She’d bought it before John had even proposed, something which had made him roar with laughter when she’d told him on their wedding night.
She smiled wistfully, thinking back to the time when they’d been innocent of true pain. That couple would never have guessed that they would lose a child, that their marriage would go through such turmoil.
“Grace! You okay?”
“Yeah.” She got to her feet, tightening the robe around her and left the room to join John downstairs. After six months of darkness, she was finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. And it felt good.
Chapter Four
With candles lighting the room, John concentrated on stoking the fire. As the flames suddenly took hold he stepped back, blowing out the match. Behind him, he heard Grace enter the room, her bare feet padding along the hardwood floor.
“This looks very romantic.”
He grinned, shooting her an ironic look over his shoulder. “Perfect timing for a blackout, right?”
She smiled back, sinking into the fluffy rug in front of the fireplace. “Definitely.”
For a second, he couldn’t help staring at her. After their shower her hair was wet, and her smooth, alabaster skin glowed in the firelight.
“What are you staring at?”
He swallowed, her faintly amused expression heightening his need to hold her. But not yet. They still had a lot to talk about.
“Would you like more wine?”
Her eyes narrowed. To his surprise, she didn’t push harder. “Sure. Red please.”
In the kitchen, he grabbed a bottle of red and two glasses and returned to the living room. As he uncorked the bottle, he noticed the frame in her hands. “What have you got there?”
She glanced from him to the frame. Her cheeks seemed to redden, but that could have been the heat of the fire. He watched her take a deep breath as if struggling to show him. Finally her head lifted, and she handed him the frame.
“I found it under the bed,” she explained hurriedly, immediately sounding defensive. “I thought maybe we could put it back on the wall?”
His gaze ran over the picture, memories of their wedding day flitting through his mind. She’d taken this picture down from the wall about four months ago, replacing it with a piece of modern art. It had broken his heart, cementing the fact that she wanted away from him. That had been the time when he’d stopped trying.
“We don’t have to put it up,” she rushed on. “I mean, I thought…” She cut off, her nervous tone becoming solemn. “No. I didn’t think. I’m sorry.”
He nodded, placing the frame on the mantle. “If you want to put it back up, that’s your call.”
They sat in silence for a moment, his focus staying on the picture.
“John, please look at me.”
The desperation in her voice called out to him, but he still found it difficult to meet her eyes.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it down, I’m sorr—” Her voice cracked.
He reached out and pulled her into the crook of his arm. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not.” She lifted her face to him, and he rubbed away the streaks of tears from her cheeks. “I hurt you, I hur—”
Unable to bear seeing her in pain, he covered her mouth with his, swallowing her voice. She mumbled against his lips, but quickly grew silent, returning his kiss. Leaning against the sofa, he pulled her into his lap, absorbing her warmth. His hands twined into her mass of wet curls, holding her head in place. It felt incredible to be able to kiss her again, to hold her in his arms. Hell, he’d never thought this day would ever come.
He moved his hands from her hair to the sash of her robe and untied it, letting the toweling material fall open. He stroked the creamy flesh of her breasts, cupping their weight in his hands. Her nipples pressed into his palms, hard and distended, begging for his touch.
He gripped her hips and slowly laid her on her back, leaning over her as he continued to kiss her mouth. Then bringing his hand between her thighs, he sank one finger inside her. She arched into his hand, moaning into his mouth. She was wet and creamy, clenching around his finger. Her body had always been so responsive to him, and he was glad to see that hadn’t changed.
Tearing his lips from hers, he brought them down her neck, nibbling and licking the tender skin. Her arms stretched over her head, clutching the edge of the rug, as his finger rubbed her pussy in slow, languorous strokes. With his free hand, he caressed her breasts, his thumb flicking over the nipples as red as wine. Leaving her neck, he sucked one inflamed peak inside his mouth. She cried out, her body curving into him. His dick throbbed beneath his robe, aching to make love to her. But he wanted to take his time. He wanted to reacquaint himself with every curve and contour of her body.
After laving attention on her nipples, he moved his lips over the satin skin of her belly, dipping his tongue into her navel. Then removing his finger from her wet heat, he buried his face between her thighs. For a moment, he just inhaled her sweet, tangy scent, letting it intoxicate his senses. So familiar, it created a need inside him he had no idea how to satisfy.
Moving his face away, he spread her glistening pink folds with his fingers. She was ripe, the tiny knot of her clit engorged. In one long lick, he swept his tongue along her, tasting her juices as they rolled over his taste buds. Then capturing her clit with his lips, he sucked.
A scream tore from her throat, and she pressed his face further between her legs. He grasped her thighs, pulling them over his shoulder to give him better access. The stiff point of his tongue swirled around the tight button then moved lower, diving into her pussy. He lapped up her juices, his tongue pushing inside her as far as possible. His hands caressed her thighs, his thumb stroking the crease where her hip and thigh met. She was all woman, his wife. Warm and curvy and delicious.
He was so caught up in her taste that it took him a second to realize the phone was ringing.
Lifting his head, he laughed at the pure aggravation on Grace’s face. Knowing it was probably the kids, he reached for the phone.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Daddy.”
A grin spread across his face, and he mouthed to Grace that it was Carrie. She immediately leaned over and pressed speakerphone.
“Hi, sweetheart. Are you not in bed yet?”
“Auntie Lou is letting us stay up late to watch a movie.”
“I hope you and your sister aren’t giving Lou any trouble.”
“Of course not, Daddy,” Carrie informed him, sounding highly insulted at the idea that she’d misbehave. “We even made brownies.”
“That sounds great.” He glanced at Grace and saw she wanted to speak. “Want to talk to Mommy before you go to bed?”
There was a pause at the end of the line, and John almost thought it was dead. But then Carrie spoke up. “Mommy’s there too?”
He fr
owned, unnerved by the slight fear in his daughter’s tone. “Yes, she is.”
“Did me and Bella do something wrong? Is that why you’re there together?”
For a moment he couldn’t speak. His little Carrie sounded on the verge of tears and he didn’t know why. He looked at Grace whose face had turned white. Tears shone in her eyes. And then it dawned on him why his little girl would think she’d be in trouble because her parents were spending time together.
He shook his head, swallowing the tears rising in his throat. “Of course you’re not in trouble, sweetheart. Mommy and Daddy are just having a quiet night, that’s all.”
Carrie wasn’t convinced. “But you and Mommy never do that.”
He cleared his throat, his heart threatening to break as quiet sobs racked Grace’s body. “We do now, Carrie. Me and Mommy are going to spend lots of time together from now on.”
“Okay.” Relief filled him as Carrie’s voice returned to its usual brightness. “You can put Mommy on now.”
“Mommy’s just gone to the bathroom,” he bluffed as Grace continued to cry. “But we’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Night night, Daddy!”
“Night, sweetheart.”
After replacing the receiver in the hook, he returned to Grace’s side and pulled her into his arms. Her body shook with sobs, and her tears seeped through the terrycloth of his robe.
“It’s okay,” he whispered, stroking her curls. “It’s okay.”
She shook her head furiously, pulling back to look him in the eye. “It’s not okay, John. Our daughters are scared when we spend time together. That’s how not okay this is.”
He stroked his thumb over her tear-stained cheek. “We can fix that now.”
She blew out a shuddering breath, relaxing slightly in his arms. “I don’t want them to ever think that way again. I can’t believe I actually thought it would go over their heads.”
“I know. Amazing how in-tune kids can be.”
She shifted in his arms, looking him in the eye. “But even I wasn’t aware of it. The only time we’ve spent together over the past few months has been when we’re disciplining the kids. That’s it.”
He nodded. “We won’t make that mistake again.”
Chapter Five
When Grace opened her eyes, it was still dark outside, the rain coming down in torrents. She glanced up at the wall, the time just about visible in the candlelight. Two a.m. The fire had almost died, so moving forward, she threw in some more wood.
John lay beside her on the rug, breathing deep in slumber. After talking about the girls for a little while, she’d relaxed in his arms and fallen asleep. Now that some of their issues had been talked out, she felt lighter, as if something heavier than a boulder had been lifted from her shoulders.
She returned to the rug and lay down on her side, propping up her elbow to support her head as she watched him sleep. Such a beautiful man, so strong and powerful. Unable to resist, she trailed a hand over his jaw—she loved how the five o’clock shadow grazed her fingertips. He shifted beneath her touch.
The adorable way he blinked through sleepy eyes brought a smile to her face. “How did you sleep?”
He flashed her a wry grin. “Good, considering the emotional trauma of last night.”
She slapped his ass, glad he could tease about it. “Don’t be such a weakling. Besides, it’s still last night. We’re not finished yet.”
A low groan sounded from his lips. “You want to kill me, don’t you?”
She shook her head, wonder filling her heart at his teasing tone. “How can it be so easy?”
“Easy?”
“To be so comfortable again. Like nothing happened.”
“I don’t know.” He reached out to rub his thumb over her bottom lip. “If you had told me yesterday that today we’d be showering together and having real conversations, I’d have told you to fuck off and not get my hopes up.”
She laughed, though she felt anything but humor. “I thought we were done.”
“So did I.”
The admission left her speechless for a second, and she had to swallow back tears. “Then what made you decide we should give it another go?”
“I realized that I love you.” At his weak smile, she couldn’t prevent a tear from slipping down her cheek. “I realized that giving you up was something I really didn’t want to do.”
Unable to speak, she just nodded, savoring his touch as he wiped the stray tear from her face. After a few seconds she found her voice.
“What I did to you was wrong. I’m so sorry.”
He sighed heavily, twining his hands into her hair. “Don’t be sorry, baby. You were hurting and you couldn’t make that stop. I understood that.”
Biting her lip, she held down a sob. “You were hurting too,” she reminded him, her voice husky with unshed tears. “And I ignored that. I was so—”
“No.” He put a finger to her lips. “You were in a dark place. It wasn’t possible for you to see past your pain. You had to work through it. The doctor explained all that.”
A curl of hair caught on her lip as she shook her head. “It wasn’t as simple as that. I tried to hurt you. I—” She hesitated, amazed that she was going to say this. But she had to. He had to know. Taking a deep breath, she forced her gaze to meet his. “I wanted to hurt you.”
Instead of the anger or confusion she’d expected, his face showed only understanding. “I know that, sweetheart. The doctor explained that too.”
“He did?”
“Yeah. I went to see him on my own a while ago. He said it was normal for a wife to punish her husband after losing a baby.”
Grace blinked. “Are you serious?”
He nodded. “And it makes sense to me. I mean, if it weren’t for the husband, the wife would never have been pregnant in the first place.”
Grace’s mouth fell open, then without warning a bubble of laughter escaped her lips. “That is so twisted. Am I that twisted?”
He laughed with her, the rich sound simultaneously relaxing her and heating her blood. But all too quickly, his laughter faded. “No, you’re not twisted. And I should have remembered that.” Shame filled his eyes, and she itched to make it go away.
“You were good to me, John. A lot of husbands would have walked out long ago.”
“I gave up. I stopped trying. I made you think I didn’t care.”
“No, John. I always knew you loved me.”
“Did you?” He raked a hand through his hair, his distress tearing her up inside. “Even when I stopped asking how your day was? Even when I started walking out of the room every time you walked into it?”
It would be a lie to say that it hadn’t hurt. But she’d understood. Especially after the hell she’d put him through. “You’re allowed to hurt, John. It was your baby too.”
He closed his eyes, his throat working hard. “You deserved better.”
“So did you.” She shifted closer to him and wiped the lone tear which fell down his cheek. “But it’s over now.”
He opened his eyes. “I love you, Grace.”
“I love you too.” She laughed again, ecstatic to be able to say those words again. “I love you.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of hearing you say that.”
“Me neither.” She trailed her hand down his back again, tugging at his robe. “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you making love to me, either. If we ever get the chance, that is.”
“We will.” Rising up on his knees, he shed his robe. Her gaze roamed his body, her hand reaching out to fondle his butt cheeks.
She giggled as his buttocks lifted against her hand. “You’ve been working out.”
A wicked glint entered his eye. “I wondered if you’d noticed.”
“Are you kidding? Those biceps have been killing me for weeks.”
“Well your body has been killing me for the past few hours.” He slipped his hand through the folds of her robe, his palm covering her
breast. “I’ve touched you everywhere and still I haven’t…”
She swallowed as he pushed her robe off her shoulders and trailed his hand down her belly. A rush of wet heat surged to her core, moisture spreading over her inner thighs. Her breath caught in her throat as he rose up on his knees, giving her full view of his powerful erection.
She waited until he settled between her thighs, before wrapping her fingers around the pulsing shaft. “I want you to make love to me, John. I need you to make love to me.”
He needed no more encouragement than that. His eyes darkened, his whole body tensing when he covered her body with his. His cock jerked as he positioned himself at her entry, his tongue darting out to lick one of her engorged nipples. Her mouth opened in a silent moan, her voice catching in her throat at the first thrust.
She closed her eyes, relishing the aching sensation of her walls clenched around his shaft, gripping it as it slid to the hilt. He stilled inside her, holding her against him while they tried to breathe.
“Look at me, Grace,” he told her, his voice husky with desire. “I need you to look at me.”
She forced her eyes open, and the beauty of his face made her want to cry, the need in his eyes far beyond sexual. Slowly he withdrew, holding her carefully with every inch. And then he kissed her.
She groaned against his lips when his mouth captured hers, his cock plunging inside her again. She kissed him back, opening her lips for his tongue to slide inside. Her eyes closed as his tongue tangled with hers, stroking along its length to the rhythm of his cock. While he made love to her, his hand trailed along her belly to the thatch of hair covering her mound. One long finger slipped between her folds, pressing down on her clit.
She screamed into the back of his throat, her hips arcing against him, her orgasm so close she could almost taste it. With blood thundering in her ears, she clung to his shoulders, exploding around him. As waves of ecstasy flowed over her body, his thrusts grew more erratic, his tongue plunging into her mouth. She scratched at the top of his back, the tortuous bliss of his strokes driving her onto another violent orgasm.
And then, finally, he followed her over the edge, coming in one hard thrust. The heat of his seed filled her pussy, and tears slipped down her cheeks. His lips rested at the base of her neck, his ragged breathing tickling her skin. She held him against her, loving how their bodies remained joined.
Dream by the Fire: Winter Magic Page 8