by Joanne Rock
“It took months of impromptu drop-ins since I didn’t want him to know how hard I was digging for information. And considering the narrow window of time in a day when he was coherent and amenable to talking, it ended up being a hell of a lot of visits.”
Cementing his decision to cut the guy out of his life completely.
“But you kept going for the sake of your family. The brothers and sisters you hadn’t found yet.” Gabriella looked at him with a warmth and admiration in her eyes that he definitely didn’t deserve.
But for a minute he wondered what it would be like to feel that warmth in her gaze and savor it. To be truly worthy of that generous heart of hers.
“Because I quit too soon, Mia grew up not knowing she had family.” He hadn’t pushed Pete hard enough and Clay regretted that with every fiber of his being. He should have known better, damn it. “I couldn’t wait to be done with those visits and put the old man in the past. Thanks to that chip on my shoulder, the most vulnerable of my siblings—the youngest—was hung out to dry with an unfit mother.”
Restless with the weight of that guilt on his shoulders—a weight that had been growing every damn day since he found out about the teen—Clay shoved to his feet.
“I should go.” He hadn’t meant to venture so far down this road, his need to be close to Gabby clouding his judgment. “It’s been a long day and I know you’ve got a lot on your mind with the trial tomorrow.”
He paced toward the door to grab his coat, but paused by the window that looked across the courtyard toward the main house. The outdoor lights he’d left on illuminated the cedar home.
“Will you go to court with me?” Gabriella asked as she padded softly across the hardwood floor in bare feet.
Her tentative question slid right past his guard, bypassing all his better intentions. He ought to tell her he wasn’t the right man to sit beside her. That she deserved more. But when he turned and peered down into those liquid blue eyes, he didn’t have a chance of denying her.
“If you want me to be there.” He skimmed a thumb along her cheek. Watched her eyelids flutter at his touch. “I wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else.”
“Thank you.” Her palms landed on his chest in a gesture of trust that was only going to lead to trouble.
And heaven.
“Gabriella.” He forced himself to stay still. To think about what happened next before he did something she would regret. “I should probably go.”
She bit her lip for a moment. No doubt recognizing the wisdom of taking a step back. But then she brushed a light caress up his chest to curve her palms around his shoulders. Drawing herself closer.
So close the floral scent of her skin drifted his way, making him hungry for a taste of her.
“You just said if I want you with me, you wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else.” Her words were so close to his mouth they puffed along his lips with a teasing caress all their own.
“I meant about the trial.” He ground out the words through gritted teeth, his whole body aching to be with her.
Her fingers gripped his shoulders with surprising strength.
“Too bad,” she told him, arching an eyebrow with a challenge in her tone. “Because I need you now.”
* * *
THE BOLDNESS WAS a totally new thing for her.
Or maybe it was an old thing. A part of her personality that she’d buried long ago after a terrifying night that shattered her world. But being with Clay made her feel safe again. Whole again.
Gabriella tracked his gaze, watching the way his pupils went dark at her touch. Still, he held himself back. His chest and shoulders rigid with a tension she didn’t understand.
“What about Mia?” he asked, the words a raw scrape in his throat.
“She’s safe and fed after a horrible day.” Gabriella had found out what time Mia needed to awake for school in the morning when the girl had emerged from her room long enough to snag some pizza and a water bottle. “I think the kindest thing we can do now is leave her be until the morning.”
Still, appreciating his concern for his sister, Gabriella led him out of the living room to the back of the main floor, the in-law suite an extravagant add-on her father had masterminded before he went to prison. He’d included all the posh extras to entice his mother to live with them, but Gabriella’s grandmother had refused to leave her home in New York. No one had ever lived here as far as Gabby knew, but Zach must have plans for it with all the remodeling he’d already done.
She led Clay into the master bedroom that used to be an eighties nightmare of gold and white. They stepped over the threshold into a space lit only by the moon slanting through blinds on the French doors leading out to a back patio.
When her feet hit the thick carpet, Clayton let go of her hand. She stopped, turning back in time to see him quietly close the door behind them. His shadowed features gave nothing away. And yet...
A closed door could only be a good sign.
Her heartbeat skipped pace. A jittery, breathless sensation danced through her as he stepped toward her again. She stared up at him until his fingertips grazed her chin. Caressing softly despite the weathered, roughened feel of hands that had lived a harder life than she could imagine.
“If you’re really sure about this, Gabby, I won’t leave.” His words were as good as a promise. She felt it in her bones, a soul-deep trust in this man that had begun long, long ago.
The tension she’d been feeling eased, replaced by another, far more pleasurable kind. Now, her primary concern addressed, she could think about other things like...when will he kiss me?
As soon as the thought formed, however, she realized it was the wrong question to ask herself.
She wasn’t waiting for him to make that move.
Bracketing his face in her hands, Gabriella arched up on her toes and brushed her lips against his. The contact zipped through her like an electric shock, physically traveling along nerve endings and lighting up her insides with awareness. Hunger. The effect was so sweeping, she pulled back a moment to savor it. To press her lips together and hold that kiss.
His breath warmed her sensitized mouth in that moment, a delectable reminder of all that awaited her. And, she hoped, him.
“Did you feel that?” she couldn’t resist asking, even if it made her sound like a teenager after a first kiss.
“A bolt of lightning that left things smoldering straight down to my socks?” He reached a hand to twine through her hair, the fingertips scraping along the back of her scalp. Gently he gathered up her hair and tilted her head to one side as he stared down at her in the gray and white moonlight. “Yes, ma’am. I did.”
His words sent an answering streak of desire through her.
This time Gabriella didn’t think. She let the kiss happen, melting against him as he drew her to him. She caught at his shoulders, anchoring herself to him and all the sweet sensation his lips inspired. Softly, sweetly, he nipped and licked at her mouth until her lips parted for him. Then the kiss took a hungry turn, his tongue teaching her things no one had ever shown her before.
She’d been his tutor once. Now? She greedily followed his lessons, wanting to catch up with him even as she needed to savor every moment of being with Clayton Travers after all this time.
He backed her toward the bed, their legs tangling pleasantly in a seductive dance. He let go of her hair to mold her body to his, breasts to chest, hip to hip. The feel of all that male strength against her—straining toward her but under Clay’s complete control—made her weak-kneed. Boneless.
She felt for the buttons on his shirtfront, needing to feel more of him. Desperate to end the suspense of what more this night might bring. Every stroke of his hand over her body burned away a little more of the hellish day. Her nightmarish past. The heat between them fired away everything else.
“Gabby.” He covered her hand in his and she swore she could feel his pulse hammer right through his skin and into hers.
Maybe it was hers.
She was all feeling and pulse.
“Mmm?” She couldn’t work on his buttons with him holding her fingers, so she settled for raining kisses along his jaw, savoring the gentle scratch of the bristly skin there.
“I don’t have any way to protect you.” His words might have been in another language since they didn’t make sense. And therefore, didn’t slow her down as she dipped a kiss onto the column of his throat where his skin was even hotter.
“Touch me,” she whispered.
“Gabby, listen to me, please. I wasn’t expecting this.” He captured her face in his hand and turned her gaze to him. “I didn’t bring anything to keep us safe.”
Blinking, she forced herself to process what he was saying.
And smiled.
“I did.” She slid free of his touch and tried to remember where she set her purse. “Even though I have never had any reason to be sexually optimistic, I am perpetually prepared.”
She didn’t mention that was because of her work at a woman’s free clinic, one of many kinds of volunteering she did in the aftermath of Jeremy Covington’s attack. But she didn’t want to think about that now.
Slipping from the room, she retraced her steps from when she’d first arrived and found her bag on the entry table. Out of habit, she rechecked the locks on the front and back door then returned to the bedroom. Closing the door behind her, she spotted Clay still in the dark, a shaft of moonlight slanting across his thighs where he sat at the end of the queen-size bed.
Thighs—she noticed—that were now bare.
Gabriella locked the bedroom door. As she stalked back to him, she realized she was dizzy from literally holding her breath. Anticipation filled her.
“Here.” She laid two packets on the bed beside him, realizing now that he wore his boxers and nothing else.
Intriguing shadows played over his chest and she was seized with the desire to flip on all the lights and study him thoroughly. She settled for trailing her fingertips up his bare arms as she stepped between his splayed thighs.
His skin was hot to the touch. His muscles twitched and bunched as she moved over them. He rose to his feet and her mouth went dry.
“Gabby, you floor me. Drive me wild and leave me breathless. I want you more than air.” He cupped her hips and slipped his hands underneath her sweater to stroke along the waistband of her skirt.
She shivered at the light scrape of his callus-roughened palms along the tissue-thin bodysuit she’d worn beneath her clothes.
“Your words make me feel special, but you should realize, I don’t really know what I’m doing,” she warned him, certain she wouldn’t live up to any expectations of “amazing.” “So don’t set the bar too high.”
“There’s no bar. No expectations other than that we’re honest with each other.” He palmed the small of her back and pressed her to him so his words were whispered into her ear. “I’m just reeling at how damn lucky I am to have you walk into my life after all this time like my very best dreams.”
“Oh.” She relaxed into him. “I like the sound of that.” She’d wrestled with bad dreams long enough to know how fortunate she would be to replace them with something beautiful. Something that looked like this night.
She got lost in his touch after that, giving herself over to the feel of his hands skimming her skirt down her hips. The fabric slid away into a pool at her bare feet while Clay moved to her sweater, dragging the cashmere and mohair blend up her shoulders and over her head until she stood beside him in a simple silk bodysuit that was for comfort more than looks.
Still, she could feel Clay’s approval in the soft growl beside her ear as he dipped a palm beneath one pale yellow strap. Tugged it aside. His mouth landed on her collarbone, kissing the skin as he bared more of her. Gabriella arched into him, aching for total contact.
He slid the silk top down, revealing her breast for only a moment before his lips claimed it. She twisted her fingers in his dark hair, holding him there as ribbons of pleasure teased through her in all directions from that sensitive place. He laved and suckled until she all but wriggled herself free of the remaining strap on her lingerie to give him access to the other breast.
Heat gathered between her thighs, spurring her closer to him until he lowered her to the bed. Before her head hit the plump white pillow, he had a knee between her legs, his hand palming her sex through the damp silk. Pleasure coiled tightly inside her, each stroke of his fingers promising an even greater reward. She lifted her hips, needing more. Wanting everything. But he took his time drawing out every single sensation until she pulsed with pleasure and anticipation. By the time he fastened his mouth on her other nipple, she was so close to orgasm she could only hold on tight and wait for the inevitable.
It felt. So. Good.
Her release catapulted her into sensual oblivion, a place of tossing, turning, writhing fulfillment. The orgasms she’d managed to give herself in the past—shocking, happy surprises she’d discovered far later than most women—paled in comparison to the raw, lusty tumult that Clay had wrought from her body.
When she was recovered enough to gather a few wits, she wanted to smother him in kisses, but he leaned away to find the condom and shed his boxers. Even her bodysuit efficiently disappeared while she tried to catch a breath.
“Hold on to me.” The rough command made her smile, even as it reminded her that he hadn’t found his own fulfillment yet.
She wanted him to have this same feeling of wicked decadence that she did right now. But before she could say as much, he was lifting her higher on the pillows, propping her head and kissing her lips while he positioned himself between her thighs.
Then she did hold on to him. Her fingers wound together behind his neck while she stared up into his dark gaze. She could see him better now in the moonlight, her eyes adjusted to the dim shades of gray. She liked the fierceness in his expression, a fierceness devoted to her pleasure and to making this night beautiful for her. He didn’t have to say it. She knew. She felt it in all the ways he’d put her first ever since she told him she needed him.
The emotions of that realization simmered just beneath the surface, but she couldn’t focus on them as Clay held her hips and edged inside her inch by tantalizing inch. Sex post-orgasm was incredible. Or maybe the incredible factor owed everything to Clayton. She arched up to kiss him, wrapping her legs around his waist. Their tongues dueled in a dance slower than the deep, thrusting rhythm of their joined bodies. She lost sense of time, rolling on top of him at one point and then back again, her hair spilling over her eyes and her feet tangling in the duvet.
She could feel the tension in him build as he levered himself up on his elbows, his hips meeting hers again and again. He cupped a breast in his hand then, lifting her and feasting on her all over again, calling forth that same tension in her.
Again.
Just when she thought she couldn’t possibly reach that peak twice in one night, he slipped his hand between them and touched her, circling that most tender place with his thumb and forefinger.
Her release rocked her from head to toe, vibrating along every muscle and wringing pleasure from everywhere. She was so caught up in it, holding on to Clay for dear life, that his shout of release mingled with her muffled cry against his shoulder. They lay together, side by side on the bed, for long minutes afterward while the world seemed to right itself slowly.
Gabriella tucked her head into the crook of his arm, savoring the feel of his biceps under her cheek and the musky male scent of him. Even there, she could feel his heart hammer away, slowing down by degrees while she tried to regulate her own breathing.
“Are you okay?” he asked finally, lifting h
is head to look down into her eyes and brush her hair from her cheek.
For a moment she could see him clearly, the moonlight slanting perfectly to illuminate his dark eyes and the tender concern in them.
“I sprinted past ‘okay’ about an hour ago,” she told him honestly. “I’m hovering somewhere between fantastic and the stratosphere.”
“Mighty glad to hear it.” Clay tugged the dislodged blankets over them, his sculpted chest brushing hers briefly and making her nerve endings dance.
Yet there was something in his answer that seemed...off. His tone was clipped, maybe. Or his movements a way of putting distance between them.
Then again, she could simply be overly sensitive. The day had sucked and there was a chance she was being too needy.
“How about you?” She tried to ask the question casually, infusing her voice with a lightness that belied her interest. “Everything okay?”
“Have you ever worried that things were going too well?” He laid his head on a nearby pillow. He didn’t look away as he spoke. “That life was just setting you up for a fall by giving you too many good things at once?”
“Never.” She couldn’t remember ever feeling like that. Closing her eyes, she resettled her temple against his biceps.
“This is a first for me, too. I’m not sure what to make of it.” A few more heartbeats passed. Then he folded his pillow under his head. “Are you certain you don’t want to skip out on the trial tomorrow, Gabby? You don’t need to subject yourself to that again.”
“I have to be there.” She’d almost talked herself out of it at the hospital when she made the bid to take Mia with her tonight. “If I don’t face him now, I might never have another opportunity.”
She needed to banish old ghosts to put the past behind her.
Clay nodded thoughtfully.
“I’m not sure I got any closure from confronting my father today.” His expression was shuttered.
A chill ran through her at the direction of a conversation she hadn’t expected after what they’d just shared. Sitting up, she hugged her knees to her chest and stared at the mirror over the bureau on the other side of the room, the shiny surface bouncing moonlight back toward her.