Chapter 11

“What?”

“I cannot stare at you?”

“It’s creepy.”

“Or endearing.” He countered with a grin, his fingers tugging at a fat curl. They were resting after a very energetic bout of lovemaking. He had greeted her at the door with a kiss that had shattered her mind and melted her body.

The meal he had brought home had been forgotten as he hurried her upstairs. Their clothing were still strewn all over the hardwood floor, and they had eaten the Chinese food in bed.

“Creepy.” She repeated.

“I was thinking.”

He continued to play with her hair. The feel of her flushed against his body felt right and he wanted that feeling for the rest of his life.

“Okay.”

“It doesn’t make sense for you to go to and from. You could move in with me.” He tensed when her eyes rounded as she stared at him.

“Shack up with you?”

He winced at that. “Or you could marry me. Then we would be living as husband and wife. Make it legal.”

“You are insane. We just met.”

“And we know we want to be with each other. I want to be with you for the rest of my life.”

She shook her head, even though her heart was about to explode with emotions. “We don’t even know each other that well.” His arched brow reminded her that they knew each other in the Biblical sense. “This is just sex.”

He gave her a pained look. “Don’t belittle what we have.”

“Gary, you cannot expect me to jump into marriage with you, just like that.”

“How much longer do you want?”

She shrugged helplessly. He hadn’t said the ‘l’ word and even so, would it make a difference? What did she really know about this man? “I don’t know.”

He tilted her chin up. “How do you feel about me?” He asked her quietly.

“I…,I…” She shook her head as words failed her. He made her feel wonderful. She had just met him two weeks ago and he had become so important to her already. She did not dare voice what was deep inside her heart.

The sex was the best she ever had, but her experience was limited. He was obviously an expert and a man who looked like him would have no shortage for female companion. “Please don’t ask me that.”

“No!” He tightened his grip on her chin. “I am afraid I am going to need an answer.”

“I cannot give you one!” She took a deep breath. “We went out one date. I have never met a member of your family…”

“We can rectify that. I will invite my uncle to have dinner with us.”

She continued to stare at him. “And your dad?”

His expression remained impassive. “I am not ready for that yet.” Releasing her chin, he pulled himself up against the pillows and folded his arms on his chest. “We don’t get along and that’s the understatement of the damn decade.

He was a dick, and I went away because I wanted nothing to do with him. He claims he is trying to be a better person, and I have to give him the benefit of the doubt, but I am not there yet.”

“I am sorry.”

He turned his head to look at her and she had the distinct feeling that he was battling with something. “I have learned to live with it.”

“I cannot talk about my dad. I am not ready.”

“You said he died.”

“I think he was murdered.”

He blinked. “What?”

Pulling the sheets up, she wrapped it around her breasts and eased up onto the pillows.

“We were living in this apartment building on Fulton Street. My parents never got around to buying a house. They both worked in town and my school was in the vicinity where I could walk to and from.

So, it was convenient. The place was fairly decent, I suppose, and the neighbors were friendly.” She shook her head. “Anyway, we were happy there, until someone wanted to tear it down and build condominiums.

My parents would get communications, letters, emails, and phone calls pressuring them as well as the other occupants to vacate the premises and not renew the lease. But no one wanted to leave.”

Gary sat up slowly and felt the foreboding spreading.

“What’s the name of the company?” He asked softly.

She frowned in concentration. “Some Italian corporation. I think it was Moretti or something like that.”

He felt his world collapsing around him. “What did they do?” He had no idea how he kept his voice from shaking.

“It was never confirmed, but within months of receiving the letters, there was a fire.”

He could not breathe. He had heard about the explosion that had happened just before he left and overheard his uncle George and his dad talking about extreme measures and going too far.

“Your father died in a fire?”

She nodded. “No one was supposed to be in the building. It was a weekday and normally he would be at work, but he wasn’t feeling well, and he went home early.

He died from smoke inhalation. It must have been horrible for him because he was asthmatic.” She swiped at the tears she had not known was flowing down her cheeks. “I have never been able to talk about it.”

He had to get some air. Of all the woman in the entire world, he had to fall in love with the one who was going to despise him when she found out the truth.

“Would you excuse me?” He was shaking, his heart pounding inside his chest and any minute now, she was going to realize that something was wrong.

“Oh, of course,” she was staring at him puzzled, but he had to get away.

Sliding off the bed, he grabbed a robe and left the room in a hurry.

He went downstairs and headed straight to the bar where he poured himself a half a glass of bourbon, taking it with him to sit in front of the fireplace. His family had killed her dad, for a frigging building and he didn’t doubt it. He had lived with them long enough to know their tactics.

Smoke out the problem, whether literally or metaphorically. They would try to use charm and persuasion, when that did not work, they would resort to other methods. His fingers were gripping the squat glass so tight, he felt as if his bones were about to shatter. He could not face her.

Not yet. He had asked her to move in with him, had proposed marriage and meant every word of it, but he was going to have to tell her the truth and when he did, she was going to hate him with a virulence, he would not be able to endure.

His family was still messing with his life, he thought bitterly. He should have stayed in Italy. If he had, none of this would be happening. He would have eventually met some beautiful Italian girl and gotten married, one would not despise him because of his name.

He should have stayed. Why the hell did he come back? Now he had tasted love and God Almighty, he loved her so much, he could scarcely breathe! Now he had tasted love, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would never be able to forget her.

He would never be able to move on. His old man had accused him of being more like his uncle Graham and he had no idea how true that was.

The man had been in love with one woman for his entire life. It was going to be the same for him. He was in love with a woman he had no right to. He was going to have to let her go. He was going to have to walk away when she ordered him to. He was…

“What’s wrong?”

He had been so mired down in misery that he had not heard her soft footsteps.

Looking up, he saw her framed in the doorway. She had donned a thin black silk robe; she had brought with her and her hair was tumbling around her shoulders.

“I just needed a drink.”

“You have a cabinet inside the bedroom.” She pointed out.

“It’s not as fully stocked as this one.” He stretched out a hand to her and forced a smile.

Hesitantly, she moved towards him as if realizing that he was not being straight with her. Taking her hand, he tugged her onto his lap. Putting the glass down, he curved an arm around her waist and cradled her head on his chest.

“I am in love with you,” he told her quietly. At least she would have that when the truth came out. “I just want you to know that you have made me so happy.”

He stroked her back slowly. “I never expected anything like this, when I came back home and then I met you.” His mouth twisted painfully, and he felt like raging at fate for doing this to him. “And I am so damn sorry about your dad.”

“It’s not your fault and you really should not be saying those things to me. It’s too soon.”

He shifted so that he could look into her eyes. “You don’t believe that. You who are a born romantic should not be putting a time limit on love. It can happen, in a split second and it did. It happened the first time I saw you.” He stroked her cheek slowly, a smile touching his lips. “I don’t expect you to say it back to me, that is not why I told you.

I just wanted you to know.” His smile faded. “But now, I want to make love to you. All of you. Right here by the fire blazing in the hearth. I want to make it last; I want to just worship your body until we are both lost in the violence of passion.”

Setting her aside, he rose and went to gather blankets and cushions to place in front of the fire. “I want it to be memorable.” He spread the blankets and arranged the cushions, before coming to stand in front of her.

“What’s wrong?” She whispered.

“Nothing.” Removing his robe, he clamped his hands on her shoulders and gave her a deeply intimate look as he removed her robe. “I want to lose myself in you.”

He started with her neck as soon as the thin material drifted away as if by magic. His hands massaged her flesh, the hollow of her throat, thumbs pressing against the wildly beating pulse. “Excited or afraid?” He asked faintly as he continued to stroke the skin.

“You know the answer to that.” Her voice was husky, her eyes luminous as she stared at him.

“You look so delicate, like I could break you in half. I was so afraid of hurting you that first time. But we fit.” His voice was thick, and he felt the despair rearing up inside him. Determined to brush it aside, he lifted his hands to her neck and angled her head up so that he could avail himself of her delicious mouth.

Desire for her was pouring like lava through his body, but he was determined to make it last. His time with her was limited.

He did not fool himself into thinking that she would be okay with what he had to tell her. So, he would make tonight last as long as possible. Using the pad of his thumb, he traced the lush outline of her bottom lip and watched as she whet it with the tip of her tongue.

“You are intent on driving me crazy.”

“You are driving me crazy by delaying.”

“We have all night, baby. My sweet Sadie.” He laughed shakily. “Who would have thought?” His head bent, but instead of seizing her lips, he used his tongue to moisten them, just the tip of it. Her hands were curled into the hairs on his chest, her body already vibrating with passion and impatience.

Something had changed. It wasn’t just the declaration of love, but there was something else there and she had no idea what it was.

Taking matters into her own hands, she opened her mouth and captured his tongue, drawing it into her mouth and sucking on it. A jolt went straight through his body and had him shuddering.

“Oh Christ!” He whispered reverently. His hands dropped to her derriere. Cupping the taut flesh, he eased her up against his straining thighs as he plundered her mouth. Her arms came around his neck, fingers digging into the flesh as the passion took on a madness that swept them along its pathway.

Without breaking the kiss, he lowered her onto the blanket, positioning on the pillows, his body covering hers.

He explored her mouth, his tongue swirling on her teeth, tasting and savoring and committing to memory the texture and sweetness of her breath. Not that he would have any trouble with his recall where she was concerned. She was branded inside his brain.

Would always be embedded in his mind. The feel of her flesh against his would be constant. He did not have to be with her to know what she felt like.

Ending the kiss, he feathered light kisses on her forehead, her eyelids, cheeks, and the tip of her pert nose, before moving down to her throat where the pulse was beating madly.

He spent some time there, tasting her skin, taking tiny love bites, pulling the flesh into his mouth, and soothing it with his tongue until she was afraid, she was going mad.

When he got to her nipple, she was all nerves. Desire, such as she had never felt before, poured through her body. He suckled hungrily as if he had not fed in days and was going to die if he did not feed from her. He transferred to the next nipple and gave it the same thorough treatment before moving down to her quivering stomach.

He kissed the flesh, swirl his tongue into her navel, leaving bits of moisture with every touch of his mouth.

Lifting his head, he stared at her for a second, before pressing his lips on the dark curls at the apex of her thighs.

“Gary.”

“Baby?”

“I can’t take anymore.” She was dying. She wanted to feel him inside her, wanted him to stop this insane need that was coursing through her body.

“You can.” He pressed his lips on the swollen flesh and gently lifted her up, so he could destroy her with his mouth, and he did. Using only the tip of his tongue, he worshipped the slippery nubbin, licking and tasting before pulling the flesh and sucking on it. Sadie cried out, her knees bending automatically.

As soon as he plunged his tongue into her moisture, she came, violently. Tears coursed down her cheeks as the climax washed through her body like a raging hurricane.

He sipped from her, taking his time to swallow her essence deep inside his throat. This was his woman, his lover, his love, and he wanted to forge her to him until they were no longer apart. Until nothing could touch them. Rising above her, he balanced himself by placing his palms on either side of her face.

Allowing his gaze to wander over her features, he committed every bit to his memory. The luminous eyes and the tears tracking down her cheeks. Her tapered brows, the hair fanned out on the dark blue cushions, the parted lips, swollen from his ardent kisses. Lowering himself, he nudged at her with his penis.

“Put me in,” he demanded hoarsely. When she curved her fingers around his hot pulsating shaft, he wanted to die. “Easy.” His body jolted when instead of letting go, she started to stroke his testicles, cupping them and gently squeezing them.

He went in deep, closing his eyes as she sheathed him, her incredible moisture clinging to his flesh. Lifting his hands to her face, he cupped her cheeks.

“I love you.” He whispered fiercely. “If you don’t believe anything else I told you, I want you to believe this.” Before she could respond, he crushed her lips, his tongue plunging into her mouth.

His thrusts started out slowly and then built up until he was driving into her, his body dampened with sweat, slapping against hers. She came again, her hips lifting to meet his fevered thrusts. He was right behind her. His climax was long and unending as he watered the mouth of her womb.

He would never want to trap her, but as the last of his seed flooded her, he found himself praying that something would come of it. If she was pregnant, surely, she would have no other choice but to stay with him. Hating himself for how desperate that sounded, he collapsed on top of her, his body weakened.

It took him several minutes to shift his weight so that he would not crush her and even then, he gathered her against him and cradled her head on his chest.

Neither of them spoke for several minutes as they tried to get their bearings back.

The fire simmered in the hearth and the sounds of their breathing evening out were no longer vying with the sound of the burning logs. She was wrapped around his body, her eyes drifting closed. The scent of his expensive cologne combined with his sweat made her feel safe and warm.

His body against hers was right, she had no other way of putting it. They fit together. He said he loved her, and she had a feeling that she loved him too. Right now, she was asking herself why would she deny him, why should not say it back to him as well? What was the point of delaying it?

Lifting her head from his chest, she gazed at him, her heart contracting as she took in the tousled ink black hair and the sensuous mouth that had maddened her just moments ago.

“You, okay?” He asked her quietly in that distinctive deep voice of his.

“I am still wondering why you are still single,” she murmured.

A smile touched his sensuous lips. “Dare I say it’s because I never met you yet?”

She rolled her eyes at him and made him laugh.

“How many women have there been?”

His thick brows lifted. “You want a number?”

“Can you come up with one?”

“More than enough.”

“That’s not a number.”

“That’s the only answer you’re going to get.” His fingers were strumming her back slowly as he continued to stare at her. “Is there a point to that line of questioning?”

“I want to know what I am up against.”

“You have nothing to worry about. You happen to be the first woman I have ever said ‘I love you’…”

Taking a deep breath, she dropped her eyes to his chest where the hairs were damp and clinging to his flesh. Using the tip of her index fingers, she charted a pattern, concentrating as if it was of the utmost importance.

Lifting her eyes to a face that had become near and dear to her, she told him.

“I love you, too.”

The declaration, he had not expected to hear, threw him and for a few seconds he was speechless and alternately despaired. He would have been doing handsprings if circumstances were better. He would be planning a wedding and at the same time calling up a realtor to find a home. But it was not that simple, and he felt like dying.

“Gary?” She was looking at him with a frown and he realized he had not responded.

“What took you so long?” Tamping down the despair and hopelessness, he cupped her face. “Or was it your intention to torture me?”

“Nothing like that. It still is terrifying and amazing to me that we found each other.”

“I believe I was the one who did the finding.” He lifted his head and brushed his lips on hers. “Loving someone means accepting them for who they are.”

“It does,” she nodded.

He opened his mouth to say something else but thought better of it. She just declared her love for him, but he wanted tonight to be special.

He had a sinking feeling that his happiness was about to come to an end. If that was the case, he would make tonight special. He was going to cement their love and celebrate it by making love to her until they were both wrung out from exhaustion.

Pulling her on top of him, he bent his head to nuzzle her breast. “I want more.”