Submission

by Tori Carrington

  And for me, nothing was no longer an option.

  As a recovering alcoholic, I knew the dangers of substituting one addiction for another. Smoking instead of drinking, for example. And as I kissed—just kissed—Molly, I knew the fear that I was replacing bourbon with her. While on the surface that might not seem so bad, below I knew that by attaching myself to her, I was giving up control. And the program taught control, step-by-step, day by day, as the first stride in regaining ownership of your life.

  But how was a man supposed to tell the difference between addiction and…love?

  Molly slid her tongue against mine and heat traveled all over my body. She tasted sweet and so damn good I couldn’t seem to get enough of her, the sensations far more potent than anything that a bottle could offer.

  Love….

  Didn’t love also demand that you surrender all sense of control? If so, how was that different from addiction? Was there a pill you could take? A program you could enter? A group you could join?

  I trailed my fingertips down to the shell of her ear, then lower still to where her pulse pounded in her delicate throat.

  I knew love. Familial love. And surely I’d loved—and still loved—my ex. I’d sacrifice my life for her and my sisters in order to keep them safe. I’d give everything I had to make sure they were clothed and fed and healthy. They hurt, I hurt. No matter what was on my agenda, I’d always have time for them.

  But what I felt for Molly now went well beyond all that. It was overwhelming and all-encompassing. I felt her under my skin, in my veins, as if somehow the impossible had happened and we had become one. One in mind and heart.

  She pressed her hand against my chest, not to push me away but rather to probe the muscles under my shirt. Her touch seemed to brand me in a way I feared and hoped would last forever. Though forever might be defined as this one night. Because one thing I’d learned in my lifetime was that everything could change within the blink of an eye.

  Which made it that much more important that I do exactly as Molly asked and show her how I felt.

  NOT ONLY DID ALAN LOOK different, he was different.

  Molly cracked open her eyelids, viewing him through the hazy cloud of emotion that seemed to emanate from him to her. Gone was the savage expression he’d worn the other night, as if he’d needed to claim her in a way that demanded she bend to his will. In its place was a gentle coaxing, a sharing that made her heart expand in her chest. And the longing she felt was for more than sexual need. It was for an intangible something that you couldn’t wrap up but that was a gift nonetheless. Perhaps the greatest gift of all.

  A connection that only love could form.

  “I want to see you,” he murmured, breaking their kiss and slipping his fingers to the front of her blouse. He began undoing the buttons. Molly was helpless to do anything but watch. Not his actions, but his face. There was a calmness about him. A sense that he was not only in touch with the way he felt but that he wasn’t afraid to show those feelings to her. When he finished opening her blouse, his eyes gazed into hers again. And in them she saw a warm smile and deep desire.

  And that turned her on more than any words and touched her more than any caress.

  She returned the favor, sliding out each of the buttons down the front of his shirt until she could slowly push the cotton from his shoulders, revealing every hard inch of his abs, every smooth muscle. She leaned forward and pressed her lips and nose against his right shoulder. He smelled of soap. And tasted of him as she ran her tongue over his skin, following the dampness with openmouthed kisses.

  Without her being entirely aware, he stripped her of her bra and her pants, leaving only her panties. Then she went about seeing that he also shed his clothes, including his boxers.

  The physical proof of his need for her stood ramrod straight. But as she wrapped her fingers around the molten thickness, she absorbed his emotional need for her in the green depths of his eyes. He seemed to be holding his breath, fighting against something she was causing. Not only physically, but emotionally.

  He gently gripped her shoulders and urged her to lie back against the pillows. She didn’t fight him. And when she felt his mouth at her breast, her throat tightened, every lap of his tongue against her taut nipple sending ripples of pleasure over her belly. Such sweet pleasure. Then, as if he was following the path of those ripples, he traced a path down her quivering stomach. He paused there, as if surprised by her vulnerable reaction, and looked up into her face.

  Never in her life had Molly felt so exposed to another human being. Instinct tempted her to look away. But she fought to hold his gaze, answering whatever question he was asking with honesty.

  His thumbs hooked either side of her panties, and she expected him to release her from the intensity of his gaze. Instead he continued holding her captive as his mouth followed the edge of her descending panties, millimeter by millimeter, until his tongue found the tight bud nestled in her curls.

  Molly gasped, her hips coming up off the sheets as lightning crackled through her body.

  Still she somehow managed to maintain eye contact as Alan skimmed her panties down her legs, then off completely. Unlike their coming together a couple of nights before, there was no rush now. No overpowering urgency. Rather Molly felt as though her bones were long-burning embers waiting, waiting to be fanned back into flame. And that moment loomed so very far away yet so very near as Alan slowly slid his hands over her legs, from the outside to the inside, then back again, until they rested firmly against her inner thighs and paused there.

  One heartbeat…two heartbeats…

  Molly spread her legs.

  She felt rather than heard Alan’s groan. It flowed over her skin, around and around, inspiring a shiver that vibrated every part of her body. His thumbs traced the line of her crevice, then he parted her swollen flesh. Molly twisted her fingers into the sheets at the first fiery flick of his tongue against her hood. Her heartbeat quadrupled in her chest, yet she still felt languid, incapable of movement. Another flick, then a pad of a thumb against the button. Her hips instinctively bucked.

  “No, Molly, don’t close your eyes,” he murmured as he held her still with his hands.

  She swallowed thickly just before he fastened his mouth over the most delicate part of her. It took everything in her power not to close her eyes as her shivers exploded into muscle-deep shudders, the only thing keeping her anchored Alan’s mouth against her as she climaxed.

  She fully expected him to move from between her thighs when the spasms stopped. Instead he slowly laved her, lapping up the evidence of her climax…and creating an even more intense need deep within her.

  By the time he finally kissed his way up her stomach, Molly felt as if she’d melted completely against the bed, nothing but a puddle of need. He licked her hypersensitive nipples, then nuzzled her neck before his hips came to rest between her legs.

  I’D NEVER SEEN A WOMAN look so beautiful.

  Molly Laraway was everything—and more than—a man could ever wish for. Beyond her obvious physical attributes there was a warmth and generosity about her. And a trust that made me feel protective of her, watchful over her and one with her all at once.

  And I wanted to please her in a way that I’d never wanted to please anyone before her.

  I framed her face with my hands, smoothing back her hair and staring into her blue, blue eyes. Her climax moments before had been so powerful that it had taken all I had not to follow right along with her, without touch, without penetration. I was so tuned in to her emotions that even as I gave her pleasure, I received even greater pleasure.

  Now I kissed her. Deeply. Passionately. Leisurely. Yet hungrily. Myriad sensations pulsed through me, but the one that inspired all of my movements emanated from the general area of my chest, not my erection. This was new to me, this power center. It was a place I’d never tapped into. Yet one that I never wanted to lose touch with again.

  So this was what it meant to make love. I smiled
even as we kissed. And we hadn’t even had intercourse yet.

  While undressing her, I’d placed a handful of condoms on the nightstand, next to her bottles of lotion. I reached for a packet now, taking my time as I sheathed myself. I’d taken an unnecessary risk before without thought to her wants and needs. But not now. Now I understood what it meant to put another person before yourself. What Molly thought, how she felt, was all-important to me.

  “I love you.”

  The words could have easily come from my own mouth, given my train of thought. But they hadn’t. Instead Molly had whispered them. And appeared shocked to have done so.

  She began to avert her gaze. I gently held her head still in my hands. “Don’t,” I murmured, kissing her again. “Don’t turn away from it, Molly. Please.” I briefly closed my eyes, savoring what the spontaneous expression of her feelings meant. I pulled back again to look at her. “I’ve spent so much of my life running away from things. Feeling like I’ve been pressed into one role or another. Like I wasn’t the one in control but was being controlled. By fate, by life, by love.”

  She quietly watched me, not saying anything even as her eyes said it all.

  “It’s only now, when I’ve finally willingly given up that control—given up my heart—to you that I realize how stupid I’ve been. I was so busy fighting that I never took the time to stop and see how beautiful it all is. And maybe that’s what I’ve been afraid of all along. I mean, when you reach the point where you have everything you ever need in life…what else is there?”

  I heard her swallow. “And the answer?”

  I positioned myself again between her thighs. “This.”

  I slowly sank into her silken flesh to the hilt, each precious inch filling me to overflowing with emotion and heat, elevating my heartbeat, causing the golden cloud in my chest to expand until it completely enveloped me…enveloped us.

  Us.

  I began to slowly withdraw, incapable of faster movement as I stroked her, my only goal to move her soul. We were no longer separate travelers on the way to a common destination but joined together.

  I couldn’t be sure how long we made love. It could have been twenty minutes. It could have been two hours. But as our bodies demonstrated what our hearts felt, we climbed to a place unfamiliar to me. And breath-stealing-ly exquisite.

  And I couldn’t think of another person on earth I’d rather be there with.

  As the first waves of crises crashed against my insides, I kissed her lingeringly. “And I love you, Molly Laraway.”

  18

  MOLLY CRACKED HER EYES open, not wanting the dream to end. Alan’s arms tightened around her, pulling her backside flush against his front. She smiled and snuggled closer still, realizing it wasn’t a dream but delicious reality.

  On the bedside table lay the remnants of the breakfast they’d fed each other around dawn. It had been more for fortification than to satisfy any real desire for food. But that hadn’t meant they couldn’t find new and inventive ways to feed each other strawberries and cream. Her body was sticky for myriad reasons, and her pillow was smeared with chocolate, but she couldn’t bring herself to move more than what it took to get closer to Alan.

  She became aware of something tugging at her hair. Rather he seemed to be stroking the strands. Maybe to get some sort of food or other out of it.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever done this,” he said quietly.

  She shifted until she was lying on her other side, facing him. “Done what?”

  Stubble shadowed his jawline once again. When combined with his tousled hair, it gave him a look that went beyond sexy.

  “Played hooky from work.”

  She leaned closer as if to kiss his mouth but instead kissed his chin. “Well, then, I think it’s long past time that you did.”

  He chuckled and held her head against his chest, where she’d moved her attention. “I do, too.”

  Molly remembered the only time she’d played hooky. It had been with her sister, the day before final exams their senior year. Claire had convinced her to skip, saying she needed help cramming for the intensive tests, that she was afraid that without Molly’s help she would fail.

  The thought of accepting her diploma without her sister by her side as she’d been every step of her life had hit her like a fist to the chest. So she’d agreed.

  And she and her sister had done everything but study until much later that night.

  “Where did you go?” Alan asked when she’d shared the story.

  Molly pressed her nose against his chest and kissed him. “A golf course.”

  “You went golfing?”

  “No, I said we went to a golf course. We didn’t play. We’d gone walking through a public parkway and spotted the course through the trees. So there we lay on the eighth green, staring at the clouds and talking about…I don’t know. Everything. Our futures. Our dreams.”

  “Don’t tell me. You wanted to be Ally McBeal.”

  She lightly bit into the soft flesh of his chest and he feigned pain. “At that point, no. I mean, I knew I wanted to go into law, but I didn’t know in what capacity. It wasn’t until later that I decided to be an attorney.”

  “And your sister?”

  “Wanted to be Miss America.”

  Molly smiled at the memory, remembering the way she’d rolled her eyes. And how her sister had looked hurt. She hadn’t realized how serious Claire had been until that moment. Until after she’d thoughtlessly stomped all over her sister’s dream.

  “Hey,” Alan said, making her realize she’d fallen silent. “You okay?”

  He tipped her head back and looked into her face.

  “Yeah,” she said. “I’m okay. But Claire never will be again.”

  Molly snuggled closer to his chest and lay there. Just lay there. Allowing everything that had happened over the past few weeks to flow over her. Had anyone told her that her life would have changed so drastically within such a short time span, she’d have scoffed.

  And if it was true that when one door closed, a window opened, then she had the very distinct impression that Alan was on the other side of that window.

  A chirp of a cell phone.

  Alan groaned. “Don’t answer it.”

  “It’s not mine,” she said, not recognizing the ringtone.

  “Shit.”

  She held him tighter. “Don’t answer it.”

  “Unfortunately I have to,” he said. “Like a doctor, I’m always on call. Only my job comes after a person dies.”

  Molly gave him the room he needed to reach for his phone, then she snuggled back into the cradle of his arms, loving the way he stroked her bare back.

  “Chevalier.”

  Molly made out the tinny sound of a woman’s voice.

  “Have someone else look into it.”

  He moved his hand a little farther south, cupping her bottom. Molly gave a wiggle and shifted so that he had easy access to other nearby areas.

  “What do you mean I’d be the one who’d want to check this out?”

  His hand froze.

  “I’ll be right there.”

  Molly moved away at the same time as he rolled the other way and straight out of bed. She pulled the sheet up to her chest.

  “What is it?” she hardly dared ask.

  He jerked on his boxers, then his pants, his face registering shock. “There’s been another Quarter killing.”

  Fear iced Molly’s spine as she snapped upright.

  “Apparently the victim is my ex-wife.”

  THUD-THUD. THUD-THUD. The constant sound of my heartbeat was about all I was capable of concentrating on as I stood in the doorway of Valerie’s bedroom. There she lay, her head hanging over the edge of her bed, her throat slit, her eyes seeming to stare at me in some eerie postmortem greeting. I imagined her saying, “Hey, Alan. How are you doing? Me? Not so well.”

  I turned from the scene, for the first time in a very long time feeling like I might be sick.

  �
��Hey, you all right?” Steven asked me, having arrived on the scene before me and already setting to work.

  “What the hell do you think?”

  Jackson held his hands up. “Don’t unload on me. I’m the one who didn’t think it was a good idea you be contacted yet.”

  Val had kept her married name, so it would have taken very little checking to find out she was my ex-wife.

  Christ. I stalked from the small house, started walking up the street, then traced a path back again, seeking clarity in a situation that made no sense.

  Val….

  Had it really only been three days ago she’d insisted I meet her for lunch so she could tell me what a sloppy, irresponsible drunk I was becoming? Demand that I seek help for my sisters’ sake? For my own sake?

  I began pacing again, unable to find purchase on the situation. Val, who took great pride in taking care of everyone but herself. Val, who was now lying dead inside the house she’d moved into after our split. Val, who would still be alive had I been doing my job right and found the goddamn Quarter Killer before he struck again.

  I walked to the corner and leaned against the brick wall of a closed restaurant, curiously out of breath, my mind spinning.

  Sweet Jesus. Val was dead.

  19

  LATER IN THE DAY, MOLLY returned to her hotel room. She’d left the Do Not Disturb sign on the door when she’d left earlier, yet she discovered that maid service had called anyway, cleaning away all traces of Alan’s having been there the night before.

  She stripped the spread from the bed with an unsettled yank, then sank to the mattress, wishing that she had a pillow that smelled of him to hold close to her chest.

  Wishing even more that she could reach him.

  As she lay back across the bed, the rational side of her argued that he had a job to do. Doubly so now that the latest victim was tied to him personally. But all she could think about was how devastated she’d been when she’d gotten the call about Claire. She’d needed someone to turn to, but there had been no one. Certainly not her mother, who had not only seemed unsurprised by the news of her daughter’s death but seemed almost to have expected it.