Connecting Strangers (Discovering Emily) Page 7

  “You’re probably going to drown in it, but one of my shirts will have to do for tonight.”

  I expect a t-shirt when he goes to his closet, but he returns with one of his uniform shirts. It’s well-worn and soft when I take it from his grasp.

  “The bathroom’s in there.” He inclines his head toward a large, pine door with a brass knob. “And I promise I won’t peek.”

  His gentleness tugs at my heart. “Thanks.” I pause on my way to the bathroom. “For everything.” Before he can respond, I close the door and lean against it.

  Coming here might have been a very bad idea. Was I rushing into this? Shouldn’t I take more time? Getting involved with Adam when Mark wasn’t fully out of my life…I didn’t even want to think about the consequences. Though I don’t doubt Adam can hold his own, the last thing I want is a battle between the two of them.

  I change into Adam’s shirt and wish it smelled like him instead of fabric softener. But he’s just outside the bathroom. I can have his scent all over me if I want. And I do want. Very much. Maybe even too much.

  Whatever’s happening between us is moving at the speed of sound. Slowing it down is rational. Smart. It’s what I should do, but all my life I’ve done what I’ve been told. Never once have I followed my heart. Maybe this time, I should let it do the talking.

  I take a deep breath and twist the knob. When I open the door, I see Adam’ already turned down the bed. The crisp cotton sheets look warm and inviting beneath the dim light of the bedside lamp.

  His head lifts when he sees me, and my cheeks heat when his mouth drops. “I can tell you one thing. I won’t ever look at that shirt the same way.” He holds out his hand, and I cross the short distance to take it. Then he wraps his arms around my waist, and I bury my fingers in his hair.

  How is it possible that I feel so close to him? What was it he said about time? The years before him don’t seem to matter. I just want to be with him. As close as possible to him. For as long as I can.

  “Come on. You need some rest.” He turns me toward the bed, and I sit down beside him. I scoot to the opposite side of the mattress, leaving plenty of room for him. When he lies down, he reaches for me. I drift back into his arms. Safe. Secure. Relaxed.

  His hands begin a gentle journey down my spine, long, steady strokes that comfort. I’m barely holding the tears at bay when he kisses the top of my head. “Whenever you’re ready to talk, I’ll be here.”

  “There’s really not much to talk about.” Though I make every effort to sound like it’s no big deal, when Adam squeezes me, I know he doesn’t believe me. “Mark wasn’t always this way.” Was that even the truth? Weren’t there times early on in our relationship that scared me a little? I think my father saw them, and that’s why he warned me to stay away. Of course, I was a teenager and knew everything at that point in my life.

  “What matters is that you got out, Emily.”

  “But I also got in, Adam, which means my judgment’s a little skewed.”

  He pushes back so he can see my face. “Well, I happen to know you were seen with a great guy at the hospital tonight so your judgment can’t be that bad.”

  “Maybe it’s getting better now that the air around me is clearing.”

  The slow slip and slide of his hands is lulling me into a state of serenity I’ve never felt…at least not since I became an adult. “I know you want to know more about Mark because of what he did to me.”

  His chest muscles tense beneath my cheek. “Actually, I’d like to drive his face through a brick wall. I really don’t need to know more about him to do that.”

  I smile. He sounds ferocious, and while I might have worried about Mark’s temper before, Adam has a strength about him that is so much more than muscles. Though he’s not short on those, either. I don’t doubt Adam could put a hurting on Mark. My ex was a big, burly ex-football player, but he’s let himself go. Most of his muscles had turned to flab. Adam is lean, taut, and an image of him smashing his fist into Mark’s face broadens my smile.

  No, violence isn’t the answer, but Mark never listened to that admonition. In his world, violence is the only way. As often as I tried to stand up to him, it was never enough.

  “Did you ever try to leave him?” The question comes at me like a slap to the face, and it stings just as much. I try to pull away, but Adam holds me tight. “I’m not being judgmental, Emily. Some vic—”

  “Don’t.” This time, I’m successful when I push back. Sitting up, I can face him, see the intention on his face. It puts me on even ground.

  “What?” He edges up onto one elbow.

  “You were about to call me a victim. That’s not what I am, Adam. Mark tried to make me one, but I fought back, and I escaped. I don’t think of myself as a victim nor should anyone else.” For emphasis, I jab his chest with my index finger. “That includes you.”

  His fingers curl around mine, and when I look into his face, those hazel eyes are smiling. “I like this side of you.” He brushes my hair away from my face. “Thanks for letting me see it.”

  I don’t know what to say, and Adam uses my silence to draw me back down to his chest which is like a warm, firm mattress. His heart thrums beneath my ear in a steady rhythm, and I don’t think about protesting my position.

  “Now, it’s time you got some sleep. You’ve had a long night.”

  “So have you.” The tears threaten again. They’re clogging my throat, making speech difficult.

  “Then we’ll both sleep.” He kisses the top of my head. “You’re safe here.”

  He can’t know what his words mean to me. My face is now wet with pain long held inside. I cry quietly, but he must know for his arms tighten, and he whispers my name.

  In the midst of my grief, I sleep.

  The crash of thunder wakes me, stirring me from the most peaceful sleep I’ve had in years. I stretch and roll to my right side. And find Adam watching me. With a self-conscious smile, I push the hair back from my face. “How long have you been awake?”

  He strokes my cheek with the tips of his long fingers. “Long enough to see you’re just as beautiful asleep as you are awake.”

  My heart flutters in my chest. The way he talks to me, I can’t explain what it does to me. But being with him like this, so close, our bodies mere inches apart, alters my world. My heartbeat changes, its tempo slowing.

  Realizing he’s still watching me, waiting for a response, I cover his hand with mine to still his fingers. “About last night…”

  He touches two fingers to my lips. “That was last night. Today’s a whole new day.”

  Awkwardness sets in. I pull back, scooting my legs to one side. “I don’t have anything with me. Nothing to…” A glance at the bathroom door is all Adam needs.

  “There are extra toothbrushes in the cabinet. I don’t have any clothes that’ll fit you, but—”

  “I can wear—”

  We both stop talking and grin at each other. “I’ll just be a moment.” I scurry from the bed, my legs shaking. Adam’s gaze follows me across the room, and once I close the door, I’m sure it’s boring a hole through the wood.

  Hands on the counter, I look at my reflection in the mirror and stare. Who I see doesn’t even look like me. This woman has color in her cheeks, a brightness to her gaze. I haven’t seen her in a long time. My palm caresses the coolness of the glass, and I hope she can stay awhile.

  Once I brush my teeth, I run my fingers through my hair, take another look in the mirror, then open the door. I’m not sure what I expected to find, but Adam’s still in the bed beneath the covers. He pats the space beside him.

  It doesn’t even occur to me to say no. Besides that, the floor’s cold, and I need to warm my feet. The lame excuse doesn’t even bother me as I dive beneath the layers of blankets and into his arms. “This is the one thing I hate about Kentucky, the winters.”

  “I’m sure if you think real hard, you could find one or two more things.”

  I shift my head on
the pillow and think about my response. “They’re fading, though.”

  “Really?” He leans in, his hazel eyes holding me captive. “You know what I’m thinking?”

  I have an idea, but I don’t say it aloud. Dreams fade when they’re brought to light, and this is one I want to hold on to. “Tell me.”

  “That there are so many things I’d rather be doing right now than talking.”

  I exhale in an explosion of air following an even faster flow of words. “You don’t really even know me, Adam. There could be—”

  He stops the rest of my sentence with a kiss that heats me from the inside out. I melt into him, my hands sliding up the wall of his chest. And words become unnecessary.

  Nimble fingers unbutton his shirt I’m wearing while I stroke his face. I like the rasp of his stubble against my palms, the roughness of his skin against mine.

  Though he tries to be gentle with me, I can tell he wants to move faster. The sense of urgency is in his hands, and I give him the green light. Now isn’t the time for making love. We both need sex. Pure and hard. Maybe later we’ll spend time exploring one another’s body. We’ll get lost in the sweet rush of pleasure. But now, we both want a fast pace, a collision that leaves us begging for more.

  Adam whispers something I can’t understand, and I push against the muscles of his chest, taking control. He allows me to shove him backwards. My hands have never moved so fast, but I want him naked. I want to slide my palms over every inch of his skin and revel in the sounds of pleasure he makes.

  We both breathe faster and faster, almost desperate, as the last piece of clothing falls to the floor. The overhead fan cools our heated skin as we kick out from beneath the comforter. Our legs tangle. He’s back on top, and he’s hot and hard against my stomach. And my world shrinks to just him. Us.

  I’ve only been with one man in my life. Mark. And I never felt this way with him. This type of heat didn’t exist between the two of us. Not even in the early days when we thought we were in love and destined to be together forever.

  Adam’s hand moves across the landscape of my body, pausing briefly to massage my breasts before dipping below my navel. I arch into his palm, closing my eyes when his fingers caress me with just the barest hint of pressure. Teasing me. Driving me mad with the gnawing need for release.

  He kisses the curve of my neck, my shoulder, the wetness of his mouth the only other sensation I feel beyond the sweet torture of his fingers. I cling to his wrist and push down, but he only chuckles and resists me.

  The butterfly touches continue until I writhe on the bed. I wrap my legs around his arm, lifting into his finger. The hard, direct connection sends a jolt through my body, and I cry out when a hot rush of pleasure floods over me.

  Sweet sensations bathe me, and I’m lost in a sea of perfect bliss. My body is weightless. Gravity loses its hold on me, and I imagine this is what perfect happiness feels like.

  Adam lowers my legs long enough to slide between them. The touch of his hard body between my thighs shocks me out of my tranquility. For a moment, I’m uncertain, but we’ve gone too far too turn back now.

  “Stop thinking,” he whispers, two fingers against my lips. He stretches his arm out to the left, banging his knuckles against the bedside table. “Dammit.” He finagles the drawer open and fishes around for a second before giving a sigh of relief.

  I watch him rise up and roll the condom in place. And I’m struck by his beauty. In the light of the early morning sun, he’s perfect, his body a chiseled masterpiece that, for now, is mine.

  Catching me watching, he smiles. And something within me breaks free. The past begins to fade, and I allow myself to believe that this moment won’t be our only one. I reach for him, needing the sensation of his chest pressing against mine, his hardness filling me.

  Adam’s warm hands palm my hips, and he lifts me, gliding into me in a long, smooth thrust that has my head reeling. He stills, closing his eyes. Our fingers join, and I lock my ankles around his waist. For a moment, neither one of us wants to move.

  Our gazes connect. Hold. He whispers my name. I touch his face. Then we watch each other while he strokes me. Our breaths hitch in perfect synchronicity. He raises my hands to the mattress above my head, shifting so that his body comes in complete, full contact with mine.

  It shouldn’t be this perfect. But there’s no other word to describe it. Our bodies were created to be together.

  Untangling my fingers from his, I stroke his face. A yearning so deep and strong settles in the pit of my stomach, and in spite of my earlier belief, I wonder if we’ll have more moments like this. How much should I treasure this one? The kiss that follows twists my heart.

  The pace quickens. Becomes frantic. Hard and fast. I want to keep emotions out of this, but it’s not working. This is just sex. Nothing more. That’s all it can be. I don’t have room in my life for anything else. Even though the last few years of my life are becoming a memory, they’re not gone yet, and I have nothing to offer to a relationship. To Adam. .

  Dragging me out of my thoughts, he lifts my legs and drives into me. The headboard thumps against the wall as our bodies rush headlong toward release. I surrender first, burying my face into the crook of his neck when I can’t hold the cries in.

  He quickly rolls to his back, taking me with him. Sitting atop his hard body, I flatten my palms against his chest, my hair swinging across my face as our bodies move together in a punishing rhythm.

  One more whisper. One more kiss. And his fingers dig into my hips while his body jerks beneath mine. Cocooned in warmth, I lower my cheek to his chest, resting my ear atop his erratic heartbeat. I run one hand up over his arm, sighing with perfect contentment.

  He kisses the top of my head and strokes my back. And my eyes grow heavy. It’s the first time in a long time I don’t worry about the nightmares.

  Chapter Seven

  “I called Francine to let her know where you were.” Adam offers this information after handing me a mug of coffee. Totally nude, he’s comfortable with me as he joins me on the bed.

  And I can’t help but stare. And remember. My hands on his body. His on mine. The way we moved together in a natural rhythm. Like we’d made love every night. And our bodies were created just for that purpose.

  Cheeks hot, I duck my head. “She knew where I was.” And what we were doing. I pull my legs up close to me on the bed and sip the fragrant brew. While he was in the kitchen, I’d put the shirt back on, because I’d never been comfortable with nudity, especially not in the light of day.

  “She was still glad for a confirmation.” Thunder obliterated the final syllable of his words. The rain picks up intensity, beating against the windows like frantic hands. “Now this kinda makes me glad I have the day off.”

  I look at him suspiciously before I tilt the mug to my lips again. “You didn’t mention having the day off last night.”

  “Well, I just decided it this morning. One of the perks of being the boss.” He gives me a wink and scoots up beside me.

  Smiling back, I’m not quite sure what to say. Or do. I drop my gaze to my hands which are still curled around the coffee mug. “I should probably get dressed.”

  He takes the coffee from my hand and sits it on the nightstand. “Why? Francine said you don’t have to work today.” His hand slides up my leg, much more familiar now than last night. “And I can think of a hundred things infinitely more interesting than going out in this weather.” His fingers tiptoe higher, and I pull in staccato breaths.

  “We can’t spend all day in bed.” The protest sounds weak.

  He mumbles a reply that gets lost in the curve of my neck. His lips trail a sensual journey down to my frantically beating pulse. A sweep of his tongue bathes me in liquid warmth, and I melt against the sheets. I have many reasons why I should insist on leaving, but they are washed away by the possessive sway of his hands on my skin.

  And I fall beneath his spell, hungry for the taste of him. This time, it’s a slow
, leisurely journey. We take our time. Learning. Tasting. Exploring. And it’s so natural when he glides into me, our limbs entangling.

  Up on his elbows, he looks down at me, his lips slightly tilted in a smile. Without a word, we communicate, my gaze to his. I reach up and touch my fingers to his mouth and smile in return.

  This. It’s all I want. All I’ll ever want. Being with a man who wants me as much as I want him. Knowing I can trust him. Believe in him. I nip at Adam’s shoulder when the pleasure overtakes me and curl my hands into his spine.

  The storm leaves me draped across his chest, both exhausted and exhilarated. I don’t want to move, and his kisses on my hair indicate he feels the same. His hand curls around my hip, and he strokes my skin with tempting fingers.

  “You weren’t kidding about staying in bed all day, were you?” I kiss his chest.

  “You got anything better to do?”

  “Than this? I don’t think I’ll ever have anything better to do than this.”

  “Good answer.” He gives my hip a gentle squeeze. “Eventually, we will need to eat.” When I raise my head, he grins. “I mean food.”

  “Hmmm.” I’m lost in him. So deep into him that I could stay here forever. I drag my fingertips over his chest then tiptoe them down to his abdomen. “I suppose you will need some sustenance since it’s so hard for you to keep up with me. You being so much older and all.”

  His eyes narrow. “So much older? I don’t recall having a problem keeping up, but,” he flips over on top of me, “if you’d like another demonstration…”

  Now I’m laughing, and when his fingers dig lightly into my sides to tickle me, I gasp for air. Twisting and turning, I manage to gain the upper hand, ending up on top of him, but only for a moment.

  Adam is relentless, tickling me in spots that send me into peals of laughter. Finally, I squirm and plead for him to stop, and like I turned on a switch, he shifts focus, his hands gentling to caress where they once tortured. As my laughter fades, I look up into his eyes, and the desire I see there steals my speech.