Chapter 10

She collapsed on top of him, her limbs weak. A thin sweat coated his skin, but she did not mind the moisture against her face. Her heart was racing, the tremors still going through her body. His arms were wrapped around her waist, and she could feel the unsteady beat of his heart.

Rylan stared up at the ceiling, barely noticing the gray clouds obscuring the brilliance of the stars and covering the half-moon. His cock was still pulsing inside her, throbbing like an aching tooth. She had destroyed him with her mouth and had finished the job by riding him. And she had picked up some new moves.

He started to ease her off him when she lifted her head and noticed the frown on his brow.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Try again. What did I do this time?"

"I don't owe you an explanation," he said tightly, hands spanning her small waist as he tried to pluck her off him.

She dug her fingers into his chest and held on. "What is it?"

"Damn you!" he blazed at her. "In case you didn"t realize, it is morning and time for you to leave."

"I am not doing that." She blazed right back. "What is your problem?"

"You!" he shouted, his eyes darkening. Where did you learn to give head like that? Or should I guess? How many men did you perform the act with?"

"One!" She cried, eyes flashing.

"I see." He could not stop the pain flashing across his handsome face. "The bastard taught you well."

"Yes, he did. He taught me how to run my tongue over the tip of him-"

"Damn you. Stop!"

"He also told me it was wonderful how we were learning to please each other. The first time he did it to me, he mistakenly bit me and could not stop apologizing. I told him I wanted to do it back to him, and he hesitated initially. The first time I tasted him, I wanted to gag because, in his excitement, he went in too deep."

He went still. His hands were still tight on her waist, but he had stopped trying to get her off him.

"You are lying." He said hoarsely.

"I have never done it to anyone else. You were the only one. What we did to each other was so intimate that I could not bear the idea of anyone else doing it to me. I have only been with one guy, and that was to try and get you out of my heart, out of my head.

And he turned out to be an asshole who tried to abuse me-" She gasped as he gripped her neck, eyes blazing.

"He hit you?" she shivered at the fierce look on his handsome face.

"He tried, but he learned I was not some dainty model who could not hold her own. As soon as his hand came up, I kneed him in the groin and got rid of him."

His eyes held her for a few seconds before looking over her shoulder.

"Your taste in men went to hell."

"It did. Look at me, darling." She pleaded, and when he did, she lifted her hands from his chest to cup his face. "I love you, Rylan, and I am going to do everything in my power to erase the past and fix what I did wrong."

"I can't-"

"No!" Bending her head, she brushed her lips against his and felt him shudder. "Please, darling. I cannot bear to be away from you any longer. I am thinking of chaining myself to your rather fancy bedhead."

Her mouth was still brushing against his, and the savory warmth of her breath was sending renewed passion racing through him. She was the only woman who ever had this astounding effect on him. The intensity of it frightened him. Another aspect of all this hit him, and he lifted his eyes to hers.

"We have not been using anything."

"Anything—Oh!" she shook her head. "I don't care. I want to have your babies, Rylan."

"Babies?" His mouth had gone dry, and he had to admit that the thought of her carrying his child was making him hot all over.

"Two or three-"

"Your career-"

"It no longer matters to me. I would have hung up my stilettos for good if Monique had not persuaded me to be the face of the new lingerie line." Her fingers smoothed the thick blonde brows before moving them to his temple and massaging the skin.

"You don't know what you are saying."

"I do." she used her tongue to touch his bottom lip and had him surging upwards, making her gasp as he swelled proudly inside her. "I do, darling," She rode him slowly, her eyes holding his.

He held her against him, body lifting to meet hers, face flushed from the heat raging through his body. Within minutes, he was lost in a sea of unbelievable ecstasy.

*****

He had exhausted both of them and fallen asleep with his head on her breast. When he stirred sometime in the afternoon, it was to find the space next to him empty, the pillows still bearing the impression of her head. Her scent lingered inside his nostrils, but she was not there.

Sitting up, he scoured the room for signs of her and felt the sharp dart of disappointment when he noticed that her clothes from last night were still at the foot of the bed.

She was probably somewhere around unless she had called a cab while wearing his shirt. Sliding off the bed, he went to drag on an old sweat and t-shirt before leaving the room to go and find her.

The scent of coffee hit him as soon as he descended the stairs. He stopped halfway down and felt the pleasure washing over him as he stared at the delightful scene. She had taken a shower and was wearing yet another of his t-shirts, this one a light blue shade.

Her thick curls that had been in a neat chignon for her night out had been tousled by his restless fingers and were now piled on top of her head in a careless and untidy style that had curls drifting down her neck and around her face.

She was playing music on her phone and gyrating as she chopped vegetables. A cup of coffee was at her elbow as she moved from his swirling green malachite counter to the stove built into the middle of the counter.

He had not responded to her entreaty about them getting back together and was not certain what he should tell her. All he knew was that he had the unpleasant task of breaking up with Madeline. There was no way he could pretend that they were in a relationship—not after this, not after Celeste.

Making his way down the rest of the steps, he was just inside the arched doorway when she looked up and saw him.

"Hi." Her dazzling smile turned his heart over, and he had to fight not to respond in kind.

"Hi." his eyes drifted away from her to the sizzling pot on the stove. "What are you making?"

"Spanish omelet." Taking a cup from the cupboard, she poured him some coffee. "I am starving, and you were right; I had a massive headache when I woke up, but after taking some painkillers, it's practically gone now."

Taking the cup from her, he went to sit on one of the stools. "You hated cooking."

She wrinkled her nose at him, surprised that he remembered.

"I decided to take a course and liked it. I don't do it often, though. The kitchen at my new place has not been used even once. I am surprised you don't have someone here working."

"My housekeeper does not work on weekends because I am not usually here."

"I hope you are hungry."

"Somewhat." He wrapped his hands around the cup. "You showered."

"And borrowed another shirt." She smiled at him. "I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all." He studied her face and played around to tell her what he had decided. "I cannot get past the hurt-" He held up a hand when she opened her mouth to interrupt. "Please let me finish." he waited until she had turned the flames off and slid the perfectly golden omelets onto two plates.

"You hurt me, Celeste, more than I ever thought it possible for one person to hurt another. I spent years trying to move past the hurt and incredible pain. I wanted to die when I realized that it was over between us. I never want to feel that way again. That saying-"

He took a fortifying sip of his coffee, his eyes holding hers. "I cannot stop thinking about you. We have been together three times now, and there might be a possibility that you are carrying my child.

I need a week to break things off with Madeline-" he shook his head at the pleasure blooming on her exquisite face. "It's going to be a trial run for us. We will go out on dates and see how it goes - see if what we feel for each other is real."

Abandoning her side of the counter, she moved towards him and climbed onto his lap. "We both know it is," she whispered, wrapping her hands around his neck. I vow that I will make it up to you."

"I am not promising anything-"

"I know. You want to take it slow." She tilted her head to one side, eyes twinkling. "Isn't it a little too late, darling?"

Ignoring the spike of his heart, he was determined to have his say. His hands came up to wrap around her slender wrists. "I will be hurting a damn good woman who stood by me without question before you came back. I gave her the impression that I would propose to her."

Her eyes glinted at that. "Forgive me if I am not feeling sorry for her."

He glowered at her. "Did you plan this? Getting drunk at that damn bar and calling me in the middle of the night to come and get you?"

"First of all, it was not midnight, and yes-" her eyes challenged him. "I was prepared to do anything, and I mean anything, to get you to realize that we belong together."

"And it does not matter to you that I am involved with someone else?" he asked, his voice dangerously quiet.

"With a woman, you are not in love with. No, it did not matter. I love you."

"And you always get what you want, is that it?"

She withstood the blast from his green eyes, seeing it for what it was. He was unwilling to succumb, even though the decision was already made. She had hurt him unbearably, and he felt as if he was shelving his pride by capitulating. "The only thing I want, the only person I want is you."

She told him huskily. "And yes, I planned the entire thing- No-" She pressed herself against him when he would have shoved her off his lap.

"Please, darling. I love you so much, Rylan, my heart-" Taking his hand, she placed it over where her heart was beating in unsteady rhythms. "It beats for you. I made a mistake and cannot see myself living without you."

He stared at her for a minute before gathering her to him and kissing her in a way that melted everything inside her. She sank into his chest and closed her eyes when he ended the kiss. His warmth embraced her.

"Let's eat." He said quietly.

*****

They spent the rest of the day in bed. She had a bad moment when his phone rang, and from the expression on his face, she realized who it was.

When he excused himself to take the call, she had to fight the jealousy and wondered what he had to say to the woman that could not be said in front of her. But Celeste realized that she was being irrational and unfair. The woman had had designs on him, was probably in love with him, and was going to have to hear the news that it was over.

When he returned to the room, she was on the carpeted floor, her knees drawn up against her face and her hands wrapped around them.

"What are you doing on the floor?" He did not offer her an explanation or the content of the phone call. But it was quick. Madeline had invited him to afternoon tea, and he had told her he was tied up.

"I love sitting on the floor; your carpet is incredibly soft."

He eyed her for a minute before lowering himself next to her. "You are weird."

"You always thought so." Leaning her head against him, she was relieved when his hand came around her. "Remember when I had that hole in my corner tooth?"

His expression turned whimsical. "You were lying on the floor and refusing to cry. And you did not want to go to the dentist."

"The man was scary, and not just because he had those big, oversized needles; he looked like Frankenstein."

His deep chuckle warmed her and made her believe they were back where they had started.

"For someone who had faced a footballer twice your size and dared him to say another bad word against the little weasel you were defending, I had to admit that I was shocked when you expressed your fear."

Turning around, she shifted to lie on his lap and face him. His hand brushed back the heavy curls from her forehead, his touch gentle.

"I am afraid of needles."

"Still?"

She nodded with an impish smile. "I go to the dentist only when threatened and under extreme duress. That man spoiled things for me."

"Your smile is perfect," he told her offhandedly, fingers brushing against her skin.

"Why, thank you, darling."

Inclining his head, he did not respond for a few seconds as he lifted his gaze away from her face to stare at something across the room. "How long were you with him?"

She hesitated before responding. "A year and a half."

His head turned, and he stared at her, expression blank. "You said you were not in love with him."

"He was sweet and uncomplicated. And I thought that was something I needed after the tumult of what we were to each other. He made no demands, and I relished that after - what - after us."

He looked away again and fought the unreasonable jealousy.

"You lived with him."

"More like he was at my place more than he was at his. Rylan-"

He shook his head and finally looked at her. "It's difficult for me to picture you with someone else. There must have been some sort of attraction for you to stay with him for so long."

"We were models, and by that time, I was getting a lot of work that required me to be out of the country. I was busy, and he was not so much. He pretended to be happy for me, but underneath, he smoldered with resentment. I noticed the changes, but by then, I had decided it was time to end it."

Taking her hand in his, she pressed the palm against her lips. When her mouth touched his palm, he felt the white-hot desire jolting through his entire body. "I used him," tears were darkening her golden eyes.

"I wanted so much to get over you, to just get on with my life, that I convinced myself I could settle for him." The tears slid down her cheeks and left him shaken.

Pulling her up and over him, he cradled her face against his chest, his hands unsteady.

"Hush," he murmured.

"I messed up royally."

"Yes, you did." Tilting her chin up, he kissed one wet cheek and then the next, capturing the tears with his tongue.

"You did that when I was having cramps and crying." She whispered.

"And rubbed your tummy with a warm towel." The emotions were storming through him unchecked.

"And feed me soup."

"Do you still - is it as bad as before?"

"No. Not since I started visiting the gynae. It was so terrible that it was hard for me to get out of bed." She wrapped her hands around his neck and leaned into him. "You said you want a week."

"I do, yes. Why?"

"Does that mean I must stay away from you for that time?"

His thick brow lifted. "What do you think?"

"I am afraid you will find some reason to change your mind." Taking a deep breath, she eased away a little, causing him to drop his hands.

"What is it?"

"I wasn't snooping."

"What do you mean?"

Her hands trembled, and she felt the tears threaten again. Her heart was so full of despair that she had no idea what to do about it.

"Celeste?"

"You kept the letter."

Understanding dawned.

"I kept it in my t-shirt drawer." Plucking her off his lap, he rose and approached the recessed cabinet near the huge mantle.

"I found it." Her throat ached with unshed tears as she watched him. "And I read every stinking, cruel word that I wrote. No wonder you hated me."

"Yes." he tossed back the scotch and poured some more.

"Why did you keep it?"

Turning to look at her, he felt his heart melt at the woebegone look on her exquisite face and the tear-drenched golden-brown eyes. "Why do you think I did?"

"To remind you what a heartless bitch I am and why it would be stupid for you to ever get involved with me again. Why you should do the sensible thing and stay away from me."

"Precisely."

Bending her head, she scrubbed at her wet cheeks before looking at him. "I want to say I should do the right thing and leave your life. I want to say that I have no right to demand that you give me a second chance. When I found the letter and read it three times, I felt like leaving and leaving your life."

She lifted her hands wearily, letting them fall back to the carpeted floor. "I don't deserve you. I can justify what I did by telling you that I did not have a choice or thought I didn't. I have been searching my heart and wondering if somehow I did it for selfish reasons. Maybe I wanted the glitz and glamor of my chosen career."

"And?" He stared at her tensely.

"I love you." The tears were coming again. "I love you, Rylan. I was fifteen and did not know what the hell I was feeling. I was frightened- I was scared out of my wits because it was too much - I lived and breathed you.

My heart would break each time you had to leave. And it scared the living daylights out of me. But I love you-" Tilting her head back, she gazed at him. "If you never believe anything else I say, believe I love you completely."

Tossing back the rest of his drink, he walked over, bent at the waist, took her hands, and pulled her up into his arms.

He cupped her face, thumbs wiping away the tears, his eyes glittering and stormy with emotions.

"I want to believe you. I am dying to let go and just jump right in."

"But you need time."

"Yes." Bending his head, he brushed his lips against hers. "You are right. What we had all those years ago threatened to destroy us.

It was as if we were melded together. Whenever I had to leave you, I panicked. I was prepared to throw away everything to be with you." His expression softened as he stared at her spiky lashes. "So, I will insist on us taking it slower this time."

She nodded. "How slow?" her enchanting smile peeked out, and he felt his heart swelling.

"Snail slow or a slow jog in the park?"

He grinned at her. "A slow jog in the park. Speaking of which, I hope you are sticking close to home."

"I am using the well-equipped gym at the apartment."

"Good. Tired?"

"No."

"What would you like to do?" He laughed at the naked desire on her face. "We can do that." He swung her into his arms and carried her to bed.