He could feel her body trembling, could hear her soft moans, and the restless motions of her arms and legs. His body surged with new strength. He was filled with the knowledge, and the certainty that he could give her what she wanted, that he could please her as no other man could.
And please her he would. Because for the first time in sixteen long years, he was where he knew he should be. Like a knight fulfilling a prophecy of old, he knew his purpose, understood his charge, and was ready to yield to it completely. His destiny was upon him. He was Marissa Wakefield’s lover—and that was all that he wanted to be.
Marissa gasped for breath. Her heart pounded so loudly and so fiercely she thought it sought a path out of her chest. She had gone into this with her eyes wide open—there had been no promises, no guarantee of what there would be for her next, but she would have no regrets. If it all came crashing down tomorrow, let the pieces fall where they may. This was what she wanted—this man, this moment.
Dylan clutched at her, raising her up and pulling her close. Her hands were tugging at his jeans. The feel of her against him sent him flying to a whole new level of need, pulling what thin line of reason he had left, and snapping it.
He lifted her up, stepping around the sofa and taking what scant steps were needed to lower them onto the softness of the cushions. He pulled her beneath him, hearing the sound of her jagged breath in his ear and feeling his hold on the real world start to slip. His body cried out for solace, his mind begged for mercy, and his soul reached out to be with the one that it loved.
His hard body trembled as he rose up above her. He searched her face for any sign of question or doubt. But he could see nothing in her beautiful face except longing and hope. The ache in him had become an anguish, and his body had reached the outside edge of its tolerance. In one strong, sure, glorious stroke, he pushed into her, bringing their two lives together, and making them one.
Marissa felt, the breath catch in her throat, felt her heart pause in her chest and her spirit soar to the stars. The feel of him within her, the movements of their bodies together, sent her safe, cautious world careering out of control. There was no balance left to the universe, no semblance of order or stability. Like her staggered senses, the cosmos had fallen into chaos, and there was no going back. She was traveling toward a place she’d visited only in her dreams, a place she’d longed for all her life, where desire met fulfillment, where touch became serenity and peace meant the man in her arms.
And then she was there—to that spot on the hill, that castle in the sky. Her body convulsed as the rapture showered over her like a million tiny stars—glowing, glittering, full of light. She was sent hurling into space, floating through a void that left the real world behind. She was at one with another—at one with the man she loved.
Chapter 12
Dylan felt her body move beneath him, felt the eruption of mind and body, heart and soul, and it shattered what little command he had left. Feeling her explode into bliss was like feeling poetry in motion—like holding a moment suspended in time, and everything within him reacted. Destiny was calling, and with all that he was, all that he had, he relinquished control.
“Marissa,” he cried out, breaking through into the abyss, and finding pleasure purer and far sweeter than he’d ever known.
It was a long time before he drifted back to earth, before the world took shape and the night settled back around them. But he couldn’t bring himself to let her go. He held her close, her head was beside his on the cushion, and their bodies were still joined in their intimate embrace.
It had never been like that for him—not even sixteen years ago when he’d been flush with youth and love. His body still trembled from the onslaught of emotion. He’d been intent on satisfying her, had become so focused on bringing her pleasure, on fulfilling her needs, he’d been taken by surprise. But even as he lay there beside her, his hard body spent and physically depleted, the taste of her still on his lips, his heart was far from sated. It would take more than one act of love, more than one night of magic, to satisfy the need in him—more than a lifetime.
“You okay?” he whispered, his lips brushing a small kiss along her neck.
She turned her head on the cushion to face him. She’d heard his light, casual tone, but in the darkness his eyes were filled with emotion, and her heart swelled in her chest. “I’m fine.”
“You sure? I got a little carried away. I wasn’t exactly…smooth just now,” he said sheepishly, his eyes narrowing. He gestured to their current condition among the dislodged cushions, with her nightshirt strewn on the floor and what clothes he still wore gaping half on, half off. “This looks more like a crime scene than a seduction.”
She had to smile, finding his humor oddly touching. She felt the tension in his body, heard the uncertainty in his voice. He was far from being as relaxed and as comfortable as he tried to sound. Tonight had been unexpected, and they both needed time to accept and understand. In the past, his light remarks and teasing tone would have seemed awkward and out of place to her. But she understood the man better now. She understood how he used the humor and the teasing, in just the way he did the “tough guy” act—as a cover, as a way of coping. It was his way of saying something when he couldn’t find the words to say what he felt.
But the humor couldn’t hide what was in his eyes. She looked into their dark depths, seeing the emotion and feeling it. Reaching out, she ran a slow finger along the line of his cheek, down his jaw, to his lips.
“Sheriff, you make it sound as though you were doing the seducing. Maybe we should clear up that little misconception.”
“Oh?” he said, arching a brow. His lips closed around her fingertip, drawing it between his teeth and giving it a small tug. “Is it a misconception?”
She moved up, reversing their positions and smiling down at him. “I seduced you, not the other way around.”
“Is that right,” he murmured, running his hands along the sides of her waist. “And what was it—exactly—that I was doing while you were seducing me?”
She leaned down, brushing her lips to his. “You were taking it.”
“Yeah,” he murmured, laughing deep in his throat. He reached up and pulled her head close. “I guess I was.”
The kiss was long and deep, and left him feeling a little light-headed. There was so much he wanted to tell her, so much he wanted to say. But the time wasn’t right. There were still too many questions left between them, too much undecided. He’d learned sixteen years ago that a night of passion didn’t come with any guarantees. Right now, it was enough that she was in his arms, enough that he could hold her, and touch her and please her.
“Since we’ve established that it was you who did the seducing the first time around—” in one smooth motion, he sat up, carrying her with him, and swept her up into his arms “—then I guess that means it’s my turn now.”
“I watched you there.”
Marissa turned away from the window and looked back at him. He was propped up against the headboard, the sheet tossed carelessly over him, exposing his broad chest to the faint light of the dawn.
“You watched me?”
Dylan nodded, remembering the night he’d sat in his Jeep and watched her from the street below. He’d been on the outside looking in that night, but he’d wanted her, had wanted to be in her bed. He hadn’t thought then it could ever happen, had held out little hope, and yet here he was.
“At the window. I checked on the house one night,” he said, his eyes moving over her. His knit polo shirt was too big on her, but she managed to make it look sexy. Maybe it was the way it clung to her soft curves, or maybe it was just that he knew she was naked beneath it. “You pulled the shades and opened the window. I watched.”
Marissa leaned back against the windowsill and studied him from across the room. It had happened again—he’d come into her life and changed everything. Only this time she’d gone into it with her eyes wide open. She couldn’t blame it on youth or inexpe
rience. The responsibility was all hers. Maybe she should have been more cautious, maybe she should have trod more carefully, but she’d been careful all her life. If this was all there was, if there would be no future, at least she would have this—and for now, that was enough.
“Where is there a cop when you need one?” she said, walking soundly across the room toward him.
He reached for her arm, pulling her onto the bed, and kissing her. “Right where he wants to be.”
Marissa’s heart caught in her throat, and she let her arms drift up and encircle his neck. “Is it, Dylan? Is this really where you want to be?”
Dylan looked down at her, the smile slowly fading from his lips. “You sound like you don’t believe it.”
Marissa reached up, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “It’s not that. But this thing…it’s happened pretty fast for us.”
“Fast?” Dylan smiled, stroking long, silky strands of hair back from her face. Her hair spilled around her on the bed like a rich vein from the Mother Lode. How could he tell her how long he’d dreamed of this day, how could he tell her how much it meant to him to be here with her. “I don’t call sixteen years between dates fast.”
She smiled at his teasing, but the smile faded quickly. “I guess I just want you to know…well, I don’t want you to think that I expect anything from you because of tonight.”
“What are you trying to say?” Dylan asked, unconsciously working his jaw.
“I guess what I’m trying to say is I wanted tonight to happen,” she whispered. “No matter where we go from here.”
Dylan brought his lips close, hovering just above hers. “I wanted it, too.”
Marissa not only heard the emotion in his voice, she felt it in his body, and she saw it in his face. Her eyes filled with tears. She didn’t know if he was every woman’s fantasy, but he would always be hers.
“Dylan,” she whispered.
But his name was lost somewhere in the silence of the dawn as he lowered his mouth to hers. He’d been kissing her for hours, they had made feverish, passionate love, but this kiss was different—very, very different. It was gentle; it was achingly tender; and it was fraught with all the emotion, all the sentiment, that had gone unsaid.
Marissa felt herself floating. There was nothing teasing about the way he kissed, nothing concealed or hidden away. He might be able to hide what he felt with flippant words and a tough-guy attitude, but he couldn’t hide it from the kiss. The urgent, gnawing hunger in her had been sated, clearing the way for a whole new set of needs. She not only wanted his passion and his fire, she also wanted his heart.
“Dylan,” she said with a sigh, his name meaning need, and longing, and love to her. “Dylan.”
“So long,” he murmured, looking down at her. The soft, gentle sound of his name on her lips caused a band of emotion to burst free somewhere inside, and his body stirred with life. “I’ve waited so long for this—to hold you, to love you again.” In one smooth, sure motion, he brought their bodies together, sliding into her warmth and watching desire fill her eyes. A surge of longing had his body moving, had the need in him rising to an uproar. “I don’t want it to be just one night, Marissa,” he whispered against her lips, kissing, biting. “I don’t ever want to let you go.”
Marissa gave herself over to the motions of his body, gave over to the inevitable demands of the flesh. It wasn’t the first time he’d touched her, wasn’t the first time he’d filled her body with his, but it was different just the same. This time there was more than a joining of bodies—hearts were united, minds were linked, and souls were made one.
As the first streaks of the morning sun began to peek over the horizon, they touched and held each other. There had been no formal commitment made between them—not with words, anyway. But hearts were now involved—he knew it, and she knew it—and it gave their lovemaking a whole new dimension. No longer was this just one night of passion, no longer would there be any questions or any doubts. They might not know exactly what direction they were headed, but there was no doubt they were headed there together.
It was a long time before Dylan collapsed beside her on the bed, a long time before they lay wrapped in each other’s arms, dozing lightly and resting their weary bodies. Dylan pulled her close, nuzzling his face close into the nape of her neck. The sun shone bright, filtering through the curtain along with a cool morning breeze. Her long hair splayed out on the pillow around them, falling over his shoulder and under his cheek.
“So beautiful,” he murmured against her neck, stroking the delicate skin along her waist. “Beautiful, Marissa.”
Marissa smiled, too content to open her eyes. It was so quiet and peaceful lying there together—so perfect.
But then, out of nowhere, all that changed. She sprang up suddenly, pushing her hair back from her face and feeling her heart racing in her chest. “Oh, my!” she shrieked. “Oh-oh, my!”
“W-what?” Dylan stammered, alarmed. He sprang up behind her, grabbing her by the shoulders. “Marissa, my God, what is it?”
“My sister,” she said, turning to Dylan, whose dazed, confused expression made him look sweet and endearing, and even more like Josh than ever. “I have to call her.”
“What?”
“I have to call my sister,” she shrieked again, reaching up and kissing him quickly before turning for the phone. “She’s going to have a baby!”
“I still think it’s weird.”
Marissa reached across the small redwood table that separated their patio chairs and gave him a playful swat.
“There’s nothing weird about it.”
“No? Two sisters living in two different states, separated by hundreds of miles, who read each other’s minds?” Dylan pulled his sunglasses down his nose and peered at her over the top of the lenses. “It’s weird.”
“It’s not weird,” she insisted, thinking of the telephone call she’d had with her sister earlier in the day. Mallory hadn’t thought it weird that she had “intercepted” the news about the baby any more than Marissa had found it weird that Mallory had known she was with Dylan. “It’s just the way things are with us.”
“Twilight Zone,” Dylan said, shoving his glasses back in place and whistling the familiar theme song. “So, is your sister excited?”
Marissa smiled, feeling Mallory’s happiness. “Are you kidding? She can hardly wait. She’ll be a great mom.”
He shifted around and looked at her. “How about you? Can you wait?”
She turned her head, carefully schooling her features, but a tinge of tension made the muscles at the base of her neck start to tighten. This wasn’t exactly a subject she was comfortable with. “For children? You forget, I’ve got 316 at Sutter to look after.”
He nodded his head thoughtfully. “That’s true. And of course, there’s Josh.”
“And Josh,” she added, her voice sounding wooden and stiff to her ears.
“How you think he’s going to take this—you and me?”
Marissa closed her eyes, feeling a little overwhelmed. “I’m not sure. I hope he’ll understand.”
“I’ll talk to him if you want.”
She turned and smiled up at him. “Thanks.”
Dylan leaned his head back against the cushion of the chair and closed his eyes to the afternoon sun. “Getting back to children, though. Would you ever want a family of your own?”
“Sure,” she said, reminding herself not to read too much into the question. “Someday. When the time is right.”
“Twins, maybe?” he asked, turning to look at her again.
Marissa turned and gave him a dubious look. “What do I look like to you, a glutton for punishment?”
Dylan had to laugh. “So, am I to understand that being a twin is a lot better than having twins?”
“I’d say that was a safe assumption.”
“How about Mallory? Is she going to have twins?”
“Graywolf’s the one with second sight,” she said, giving him a
nother playful swat. “Not me.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s right,” he said dryly, holding up an arm to deflect the blow. “I forgot, you just read your sister’s mind. He reads everybody elses.” He turned his head and gave her a smile. “Weird.”
“It’s-not weird,” she muttered, shaking her head. The rays from the afternoon sun had become too much for her fair skin, and she pushed herself up out of the chair. She walked around the chairs to a shady spot on the steps leading to the commons. Sitting down, she leaned her head back against the railing post and closed her eyes. “It’s not weird at all. It’s just a…a twins’ thing.”
Dylan’s gaze followed her as she moved past, a slow smile spreading across his lips. He enjoyed just sitting there with her, talking and relaxing—enjoyed just about everything about her, in fact. Especially the way she looked. Her long legs were smooth and golden in the breezy little shorts she had on, and his body stirred, remembering them wrapped around him.
They’d talked about twins, he thought as he watched the hot summer breeze blow a lock of hair across her face. The subject of twins had been a sensitive one for him for a very long time, bringing back memories he’d wanted to forget. But all that was different now. After the day they’d had together, after the night they’d shared, the subject didn’t seem so unpleasant any longer, those memories so dim he could hardly see them anymore, so far away, it was as if they’d never existed at all. A heavy burden had finally been lifted off his shoulders, and he was free of it at last.
“A twins’ thing, huh?” he said, leaning forward in his chair. “Like…trading places?”
Despite the summer heat, Marissa went cold all over. Like a baseball through a windowpane, the quiet, lazy afternoon shattered into a million pieces all around her. She sat up, turning to look up at him, and stared the past in the face. “Dylan, I—”
He stood up, walking across the patio to where she sat. It had been stupid to bring it up like that—so flippantly, so lightly. He’d just been feeling so good, so free of the past, he’d wanted to free her of it, too.
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