Chapter 11

One second, I'm kissing her throat, intending to return to her mouth.

The next, I'm flat on my back with Lauren's lush body on top of mine, her legs straddling my middle, her breasts pushing into my chest. "God," she whispers, "You taste so good."

She presses her lips to my throat, to the underside of my jaw, and then to mine...and her kiss is?—

Holy Fucking Hell.

Scorching. Fucking. Hot.

But it's going too fast.

We have to slow down.

This is too much and she might get hurt and?—

Her tongue strokes along mine, her breasts press closer, and then I'm not thinking about slowing down, not thinking about anything except for her body beneath my hands, her soft moans in my throat, her pelvis rocking against mine.

She lurches back, breaking the kiss, reaching for the hem of her shirt, and ripping it over her head, tossing it to the side.

Fuck, she's pretty.

Breasts peeking out from behind cotton and lace, nipples beading beneath the fabric.

I want to peel that material free of her, want to get my mouth on her skin, want to taste and lick and suck every inch of her gorgeous body, and I lean in to do exactly that when my conscience yanks me hard, shaking me viciously until I focus.

Until I realize this is a big step from sitting next to her on the couch or eating dinner to...

Fucking.

I want to fuck her senseless.

And that's what finally helps me corral my desire. I roll us when she bends back down, pinning her to the cushions again, knowing this isn't helping my control—feeling her fucking gorgeous body beneath mine, knowing it would be so easy to rear back, to tug off her pants, to thrust inside—but needing to see her face, needing her to understand that I want her, but?—

"Sweets," I murmur, unable to stop myself from dragging my lips along her throat. "We need to slow down."

She shudders, a soft sigh escaping her. "No, Pascal," she says. "We've both spent the last years in a stasis, trapped in a sticky amber while the rest of our world keeps moving forward." Her palm covers my cheek. "It's time we break free, and I want to do that with you."

My heart rolls over in my chest, and I look down at the beautiful woman splayed beneath me, her expression soft and warm and?—

Fuck.

I want that too.

But...

I exhale.

She needs to know.

"I watched you," I admit. "At the practice rink. At the Gold games and team events. And...from the shadows of your yard."

Her brows drag together.

"At first, I couldn't believe how beautiful you were, even with the sadness in your eyes. And then I loved the way you interacted with Matteo and the other kids. I hated how close you grew to Lucas"—she grins—"And I was happy to see that you seemed to be settling in with the team."

Her fingers flex on my jaw. "But you didn't allow yourself the same."

"It's easier to live on the sidelines," I whisper. "No risk and I can disappear when it gets to be too much."

Her eyes slide closed then open. "You disappeared only to show up and watch me through my windows."

"I'm an asshole," I mutter. "I know I am."

"Why?" she asks, brows dragging together.

"Why did I watch you?"

A nod.

"Because I convinced myself you needed looking after." She scowls, and I gently peel her hand free, kiss her palm. "It was an excuse, sweets. I don't think I've ever met a woman as capable as you?—"

"Except that last time you were over, I spent the night crying and had a sink full of dishes."

I smile, lean in and brush my lips over hers. "After you got up early to exercise and made your son breakfast before driving him to school. After you worked all day, including taking your last meeting in the car so you could pick him up and drive him to hockey practice—where you got him dressed, tied his skates perfectly, and saw him onto the ice then took another call, answered emails, and still managed to watch him score two goals in the scrimmage. Then you drove him to The Dairy for the team get-together, a place I know can't be easy for you to visit because before the shooting you used to walk through the winding paths surrounding it or sit on the grass for a few minutes during your lunch break, and now you don't go, unless it's for Matteo." I nuzzle at her jaw, say softly, "And then after all of that, you acquiesced to a sleepover that he wanted but made your heart hurt, came home and packed him a bag with anything he might need, and then you worried—through your dinner and your show and your bath but you still didn't turn me away when I randomly started pounding on your front door and barged my way inside. So," I tell her, straightening enough to run my lips over hers again, "I think you have capable down, baby."

"Those are the most words I've ever heard you say at one time," she whispers.

I run a hand over her hair. "Yeah, probably." I rest my forehead against hers, needing to focus on the important things, like?—

"So, you'll cut yourself some slack?"

A breath. Then a nod. "Yeah." A beat, her eyes narrowing as they hold mine. "And you'll stop lurking in the shadows and just…come knock on my door?"

My heart pulses and fear rises up.

But she's right.

I want to be here, right here, and I've been inching toward it for months now, ever since I first saw her at the rink and wanted to do everything I could to eliminate the sadness from her eyes.

Which is why it's almost easy to say, "Yeah, sweets, I'll skip the shadows and knock on your door."

Her face brightens, and, fuck, I feel that deep.

She touches my jaw. "Good," she murmurs, and we stay still for a moment, our bodies pressed together, our gazes locked, silence between us. Until she says, "But you still never told me why you finally decided to stop watching me through my windows and instead came to my front door."

I know I have a choice here—hide it all and risk her being unprepared if it ever comes out, hurt that I hid things from her, upset that half of my life wasn't up for discussion, or...give her that part of me.

Slip from the hardening amber...

And live.

So, I tell her about Felix discovering my nighttime activities in her yard and the note, the man outside her house and the bugs inside. I tell her about what happened in New Hampshire and how that and what happened back at home, with losing my wife, my Mal, in such a violent way, I knew I needed to do something different. So I got out.

I give it all to her, my past and my heart offered up on a silver platter, and I make it clear that if this is too much, I will walk right back out to the shadows and leave her to build a beautiful life.

Wide eyes when I finally finish, her palm resting on my cheek. "Are we…" A breath. "Are we in danger?"

"No," I reassure her quickly. "I took care of it, made it very clear that I wouldn't ever work with him again."

Worry in the lines of her face. "How can you be sure?"

I touch her cheek. "Blackmail."

Shock slicing through expression. "Wh-what?"

"He's my ex-partner," I remind her. "And because of that, we did plenty of jobs together. He liked to run free and loose with laws and procedure—like with what happened on the job in New Hampshire I told you about"—she nods—"and I kept evidence of what he did. I have lots of it, including some things that could destroy his business. And if there's one thing that Felix cares about, it's his business." I cover her hand with my own. "So, I reached out to a few mutual contacts, turned a few screws, pushed a few buttons, and made it very clear that if he ever fucked around with you or Matteo or any of the Gold, he wouldn't have a job."

A nod, her fingers flexing. "And what about you?"

I frown. "What about me?"

"Did you make it clear he would face consequences if he messed around with you too?"

My heart squeezes. "I can take care of myself, sweets."

A long pause, those eyes seeing right into the depths of my soul. "Or you can let Matteo and I help with that."

Another squeeze in my heart. "Lauren."

She pulls my head down until my forehead rests against hers. "Promise me you'll let us look after you too—and it won't involve me looking through my windows, searching the shadows for a way to do it. Promise me it'll be inside this house over lasagna and salad and action movies," she whispers, pressing her hand to my chest, just over my heart. "Promise me you'll give us that."

I inhale, exhale. Then I push through the terror and cover her hand with my own. "I promise."

Her body relaxes, softens, melds with mine, and I know this is a step forward, one of many it will take to build something that will last a lifetime.

But it is a step.

No secrets. No hiding from the past. No shadows.

Just...sunshine.

I revel in that sunshine as she seals her lips over mine again, as her body starts undulating beneath mine, as her hands start working, dipping beneath the fabric of my tee, sliding over my skin, nails lightly raking. I shudder and rear back, lifting her in my arms and carrying her to the bedroom, stopping only to lock the door before I settle her on the mattress. Then I'm kissing her back, dragging my mouth over her body, stopping and paying homage to her breasts, her belly, her waist, and gorgeous hips. I flick open the button on her jeans, tugging the material down her legs, and?—

Fucking beautiful.

I toss her jeans to the side, peel down her underwear, sending that to the floor too.

Then my mouth is on her, my tongue dragging through her labia, soaking up the sweetly tart evidence of her desire, circling her clit, and it's not long before I'm sucking and she's gasping, hands coming to my head, weaving into my hair, holding me to her as I drive her toward release.

Up, up, up and?—

She pulls my head away from her.

"Together," she murmurs.

My heart—fuck—it's hers.

A bare moment later, I'm naked and pushing inside her, both of our soft groans mingling as our bodies move together, perfectly in sync, seeking that future.

Close now.

And then upon us, exploding and taking us under.

I cradle her close, listen to her breathing even out, soak in the feel of her against me and the brightness of this room, even though not a single light is on.

Because I know we're working toward another future.